The Living Age, Volume 160 (Google Books)


It may be assumed as a fact which scarcely requires to be more than stated that there are few subjects which the great mass of Englishmen are so curiously ignorant of as the history of monasticism, of the constitution of the various orders, of the fortunes of any single religious house, or the discipline to which its members were, in theory at least, compelled to submit. The assumption being granted, it may naturally be asked, How is such ignorance to be accounted for? It is due to more causes than one, but chiefly and primarily to the vastness of the subject itself.

When the monasteries were suppressed by Henry VIII. there was an utter obliteration of an order of things which had existed in our island certainly for more than a thousand years, and how much longer it is impossible to say. The names of religious houses which are known to have existed before the Norman Conquest count by hundreds; the names of men and women who presided over such houses during the centuries preceding that event count by thousands. Some of these religious orders had passed through the strangest vicissitudes; they had been pillaged again and again; they had been burnt by Danish marauders; their inmates driven out into the wilderness or ruthlessly put to the sword; their lands given over to the spoiler or gone out of cultivation; their very existence in some cases almost forgotten; yet they had revived again and again from their ashes. When William the Conqueror came among us, and that awful rule of his began, there was scarcely a county in England and Wales in which one or more religious houses were not to be found, and during his reign of twenty-one years about thirty new monasteries of one sort or another were added to those already existing.

To begin with, the very word monastery is a misnomer: the word is a Greek word, and means the dwelling-place of a solitary person, living in seclusion. But, misnomer though it be, the employment of j a resting-place for their bones. When I

the word in a sense so widely different from that which it first bore, until it got to designate the dwelling-place of a corporate body, among whom no solitude was allowed and privacy was almost impossible, is of itself very significant as indicating the stages through which the original idea of monasticism passed.

It was natural enough, when society was in a condition of profound disorganization, and sensuality and violence were in the ascendant, that men and women of gentle nature should become convinced that the higher life could only be lived in lonely retirement, far from the sound of human voices and the contact of human creatures, whose very nearness almost implies sin. But what a vast step from this to that other conviction which the developed form of monasticism expresses, when experience has convinced the devout searcher after God that no great work can be done in improving the world, or raising the tone of society, or in battling with our own weaknesses and vices, except by earnest, resolute, and disciplined co-operation! It is when we draw together that we are strong, and strongest when we are laboring shoulder to shoulder for some common object, and that no mean and sordid one; it is then that we best find deliverance from our self-deception and most inveterate delusions, whilst living in the light of others’ eyes, and subjected to the influence and control of a healthy and well-instructed public opinion.

In the thirteenth century (and I shall as much as possible confine myself to the limits of that period), a monastery meant what we now understand it to mean —viz. the abode of a society of men or women who lived together in common — who were supposed to partake of common meals; to sleep together in the common dormitory; to attend certain services together in the common church; to transact certain business or pursue certain employments in the sight and hearing of each other in the common cloister; and, when the end came, to be laid side by side in the common graveyard, where in theory none but members of the order could find

say ” societies of men and women” I am again reminded that the other term, “convent,” has somehow got to be used commonly in a mistaken sense. People use the word as if it signified a religious house tenanted exclusively by women. The truth is that a convent is nothing more than a Latin name for an association of persons who have come together with a 1 view to live for a common object and to submit to certain rules in the conduct of their daily lives. The monastery was the common dwelling-place: the convent was the society of persons inhabiting it; and the ordinary formula used when a body of monks or nuns execute any corporate act — such as buying or selling land — by any legal instrument is, “The Prior and Convent of the Monastery of the Holy Trinity at Norwich;” “the Abbot and Convent of the Monastery of St. Peter’s, Westminster;” “the Abbess and Convent of the Monastery of St. Mary and St. Bernard at Lacock,” and so on.

Bearing in mind, then, that the term convent has to do with a corporation of men or women united into an organized society, and that the term monastery can strictly be applied only to the buildings — the domus — in which that society had its home, it will be well at starting that we should endeavor to gain some notion of the general plan of these buildings first, and when we have done that, that we should proceed to deal with the constitution of the society itself and the daily routine of conventual life.

A monastery in theory, then, was, as it was called, a religious house. It was supposed to be the home of people whose jives were passed in the worship of God, and in taking care of their own souls, and making themselves fit for a better world than this hereafter. As for this world, it was lying in wickedness; if men remained in this wicked world they would most certainly become contaminated by all its pollutions; the only chance of ever attaining to holiness lay in a man’s turning his back upon the world and running away from it. It was no part of a monk’s duty to reform the world; all he had to do was to look after himself, and to save himself from the wrath to come. It is

hardly overstating the case if I say that a monastery was not intended to be a benevolent institution; and if a great religious house became, as it almost inevitably did become, the centre of civilization and refinement, from which radiated light and warmth and incalculable blessings far and wide, these results flowed naturally from that growth and development which the original founders had never looked forward to or could have foreseen, but it was never contemplatsd as an end to be aimed at in the beginning. Being a home for religious men, whose main business was to spend their days and nights in worshipping God, the first requisite, the first and foremost, the sine qua nan was, that there should be a church.

On the church of a monastery, as a rule, no amount of money spent, no amount of lavish ornament or splendor of decoration, was grudged. Sculpture and painting, jewels and gold, gorgeous hangings, and stained glass that the moderns vainly attempt to imitate, the purple and fine linen of the priestly vestments, embroidery that to this hour remains unapproachable in its delicacy of finish and in the perfect harmony of colors — all these were to be found in almost incredible profusion in our monastic churches. You hear some people work themselves into a frenzy against the idolatrous worship of our forefathers; but to a monk of a great monastery his church was his one idol — to possess a church that should surpass all others in magnificence, and which could boast of some special unique glory — that seemed to a monk something worth living for. The holy rood at Bromholm, the holy thorn at Glastonbury, were possessions that brought world-wide renown to the monasteries in which they were found, and gave a lustre to the churches in which they were deposited; and the intense esprit de corps, the passionate loyalty, of a monk to his monastery is a sentiment which we in our time find it so extremely difficult to understand that we can hardly bring ourselves to believe that it could exist and did exist without some subtle intermixture of crafty selfishness as its ruling force and motive.

Tbe church of a monastery was the heart of the place. It was not that the church was built for the monastery, but the monastery existed for the church; there were hundreds and thousands of churches without monasteries, but there could be no monastery without a church. The monks were always at work on the church, always spending money upon it, always adding to it, always “restoring” it; it was always needing repair. We are in the habit of saying, ” Those old monks knew how to build; look at their work — see how it stands!” But we are very much mistaken if we suppose that in the twelfth or the thirteenth or the fourteenth century there was no bad building. On the contrary, nothing is more common in the monastic annals than the notices of how this and that tower fell down, and how this and that choir was falling into ruins, and how this or that abbot got into debt by his mania for building. There was an everlasting tinkering going on at the church; and the surest token that a monastery was in a bad way was if its church was in a shabby condition.

The church was, almost invariably, built in the form of a cross, facing east and west, the long limb of the cross being called the nave, the cross limbs being called the transepts, and the shorter limb, or head of the cross, being called the choir. The choir, as a rule, was occupied exclusively by the monks or nuns of the monastery. The servants, workpeople, and casual visitors who came to worship were not admitted into the choir; they were supposed to be present only on sufferance. The church was built for the use of the monks; it was their private place of worship.

Almost as essential to the idea of a monastery as the church was the cloister or great quadrangle, inclosed on all sides by the high walls of the monastic buildings. Its usual position was on the south of the church, to gain as much of the sun’s rays as possible, and to insure protection from the northerly and easterly winds in the bttter season. All round this quadrangle ran a covered arcade, whose roof, leaning against the high walls, was supported on the inner side by an open trellis work in stone — often exhibit

ing great beauty of design and workmanship— through which light and air was admitted into the arcade.* The open space not roofed in was called the garth, and was sometimes a plain grass-plat and sometimes was planted with shrubs, a fountain of running water being often found in the centre, which afforded a pleasant object for the eye to rest on. The cloister was really the living-place of the monks. Here they pursued their daily avocations, here they taught their school, they transacted their business, they spent their time and pursued their studies, always in society, co-operating and consulting, and, as a rule, knowing no privacy. “But a monk always lived in a cell!” I think you will be inclined to object. The sooner you get rid of that delusion the better. Until Henry II. founded the Carthusian Abbey of Witham, in 1178, there was no such thing known in England as a monk’s cell, as we understand the term. It was a peculiarity of the Carthusian order, and when it was first introduced it was regarded as a startling novelty for any privacy or anything approaching solitude to be tolerated in a monastery. The Carthusian system never found much favor in England. The Carthusians never had more than nine houses, all told; the discipline was too rigid, the rule too severe, the loneliness too dreadful for our tastes and for our climate. In the thirteenth century, if I mistake not, there were only two monasteries in England in which monks or nuns could boast of having any privacy, any little corner of their own to turn into, any place where they could enjoy the luxury of retirement, any private study such as every boy nowadays, in a school of any pretension, expects to have provided for himself, and without which we assume that nobody could read and write for an hour.

• In other words the thirteenth-century monk passed far the greater portion of his time in the open air, except that there was a roof over his head. As time went on, and monks became more self-indulgent, they Jid not by any means like the draughts and exposure in the cloister, and the old-fashioned open arcades were glazed, and the old open walks were turned into «.plendid lounges, comfortable and luxurious, such as the glorious cloisters of Gloucester could be made into, at a small outlay, at the present day.

The cloister arcade was said to have four walks. The south walk ran along the south wall of the nave, the north walk was bounded by the refectory or great dining hall, the east walk extended along the south transept, and where the transept ended there usually came a narrow passage called a slype, passing between the end of the transept and the chapterhouse, which may be described as the council-chamber of the convent. Beyond the chapter-house, and abutting partly upon the east wall of the cloister, but extending far beyond it till, in some cases, it made with the refectory a block of buildings in the form of a T, ran the dormitory or common sleeping-place for the fraternity. The dormitory was always approached by steps, for it was invariably constructed over a range of vaulted chambers, which served for various purposes; one of these chambers was set apart for the reception of those monks who had been subjected to the monthly bleedings which all were supposed to require, and which all were compelled to submit to, that so by a mechanical process, if in no other way, the flesh might be subdued. The beds of the monks were arranged along the walls of the dormitory, at regular intervals: and in some monasteries a wainscot partition separated the sleepers from each other, thus making for each a little cubicle, with a low door leading into it. The broad passage, running from end to end, between the sleeping-places in the dormitory was strewn with rushes ; and at the end opposite to the flight of stairs were the latrines or washing-places, which were open to the air, and under which was always a sewer that could be flushed by a watercourse hard by.

In the dormitory and the latrines lights were kept burning through the night; a provision necessary, if for no other reason, because the services in the church at night-time had to be kept up and attended bv the whole house. In going from the dormitory to the church the monks always passed undercover — sometimes by going through the cloister, sometimes by passing straight into the transept.

We have been round three sides of the cloister: on the north the church; on the east the chapter-house and dormitory; on the south the refectory. There remain the buildings abutting on the west wall. In the arrangement of these no strict rule was observed. But generally the western buildings were dedicated to the cellarer’s hall with cellars under it, the pitanciar’s and kitchener’s offices, or chequers as they

were called, and a guest-chamber for the reception of distinguished strangers and for the duties of hospitality, to which great importance was attached.

These were the main buildings, the essential buildings of a monastery great or small. Where a monastery was rich enough to indulge in luxuries of ” modern improvements and all the best appliances,” there was hardly any limit to the architectural freaks that might be indulged in. There were the infirmary and the hospital; the calefactory or warming apparatus, the recreation hall and the winter hall, the locutorium and the common hall, and I know not what besides. You observe I have as yet said nothing about the library. I must remind you that in the thirteenth century the number of books in the world was, to say the least, small. A library of five hundred volumes would, in those days, have been considered an important collection, and, after making all due allowances for ridiculous exaggerations which have been made by ill-informed writers on the subject, it may safely be said that nobody in the thirteenth century — at any rate in England — would have erected a large and lofty building as a receptacle for books, simply because nobody could have contemplated the possibility of filling it. Here and there amongst the larger and more important monasteries there were undoubtedly collections of books, the custody of which was intrusted to an accredited officer; but the time had not yet come for making libraries well stored with such priceless treasures as Leland, the antiquary, saw at Glastonbury, just before that magnificent foundation was given as a prey to the spoilers. A library, in any such sense as we now understand the term, was not only no essential part of a monastery in those days, but it may almost be said to have been a rarity.

But if the thirteenth-century monastery possessed necessarily no great readingroom, the scriptorium, or writing-room, was almost an essential adjunct. In the absence of the printing-press, the demand for skilled writers and copyists throughout the country was enormous. In the scriptorium all the business, now transacted by half-a-dozen agents and their clerks, was carried on. The land of the country in those days was subdivided to an extent that it is now almost impossible for us to realize, and the tenure under which the small patches of arable or meadow land were held was sometimes very complex and intricate. The small patches were perpetually changing hands, being

bought or sold, settled upon trustees, or let out for a term of years, and every transaction would be registered in the books of the monastery interested, while the number of conveyances, leases, and enfeofments made out in the course of the year was incalculable. In such an abbey as that of Bury St. Edmunds a small army of writers must have been constantly employed in the business department of the scriptorium alone. Obviously it became a great writing-school, where the copyists consciously or unconsciously wrote according to the prevailing fashion of the place ; and there have been, and there are experts who could tell you whether this or that document was or was not written in this or that monastic scriptorium. Paper was very little used, and the vellum and parchment required constituted a heavy item of expense. Add to this the production of school-books and all materials used for carrying on the education work, the constant replacement of church service books which the perpetual thumbing and fingering would subject to immense wear and tear, the great demand lor music which, however simple, required to be written out large and conspicuous, in order to be read with ease, and you get a rather serious list of the charges upon the stationery department of a great abbey. But though by far the greater portion of work done in the scriptorium was mere office work, the educational department, if 1 may so term it, being subsidiary, it must not be forgotten that the literary and historical department also was represented in the scriptorium of every great monastery. In the thirteenth century men never kept diaries or journals of their own daily lives, but monasteries did. In theory, every religious house recorded its own annals, or kept a chronicle of great events that were happening in Church and State. Where a monastery had kept its chronicle going for a long time, it got to be regarded almost as a sacred book, and was treated with great veneration: it lay in a conspicuous place in the scriptorium, and was under the care of an officer who alone was permitted to make entries in it. When any great piece of news was brought to the monastery that seemed worth putting on record, the person giving the information wrote out his version of the story on a loose piece of parchment, and slipped his communication into the book of annals for the authorized compiler to make use of in any way that seemed best to him, after due examination of evidence. This was the

rule in all monastic houses. Unfortunately, however, as it is with the journals or diaries of men and women of the nineteenth century, so it was with the journals and diaries of monks of the thirteenth, they evidently were kept by fits and starts; and before the fourteenth century was half out, the practice of keeping up these diaries in all but the larger monasteries had come to an end.

Before passing on from the library and scriptorium, on which a great deal more might easily be said, it is necessary that one caution should be given; I know not how the notion originated or how it has taken such hold of the minds of ninetynine out of a hundred, that the monks as a class were students or scholars or men of learning; but, as far as the English monasteries of the thirteenth century are concerned, I am sure that it is altogether erroneous. If we except some few of the larger and nobler monasteries, which from first to last seem always to have been centres of culture, enlightenment, and progress, the monks were no more learned than the nuns. As a class, students, scholars, and teachers they were not. When King John died, in 1216, a little learning went a long way, and whatever the Norman Conquest did for England (and it did a great deal), it certainly was not an event calculated to increase the love of study, or likely to make men bookish pundits.

I should only confuse my readers if I dwelt more at length upon the buildings of a monastery. It is enough for the present that we should understand clearly that the essential buildings were (1) the church, (2) <he cloister, (3) the dormitory, (4) the refectory, (5) the chapter-house. In these five buildings the life of the convent was carried on. Having said thus much we will pass on to the corporation itself — that which strictly was called the convent; and for convenience and distinctness it will be as well if we use that word convent in the more accurate sense, and employ it only as signifying the corporate body of persons occupying those buildings of which I have been speaking, and which in their aggregate were called a monastery.

Once more I think it necessary to start with a caution. Not only do 1 propose to take no account here of that large class of conventuals which comprehended the mendicant orders, or friars as they are called, but 1 must needs pass by with little or no notice the various orders of regular canons — i.e. canons living under a rule. The friars came into England first in 1220. During the thirteenth century they were, so to speak, upon their trial; but from the first the monks and the friars were almost essentially opposed in the ideal of their daily lives ; the monk’s ideal was that he must live to save his own soul: the friar’s ideal was that he must live to save the soul of others. So with the very numerous houses of canons regular up and down the land. They and the monks did not love one another, and when I speak of monks and their houses it will be advisable to exclude from our consideration the friars on the one hand and the canons on the other, and, in fact, to limit ourselves to that view of conventual life which the great English monasteries under the rule of St. Benedict afford.

At the time of the Norman Conquest it may be said that all English monks were professedly under one and the same rule — the famous Benedictine rule. The rule of a monastery was the constitution or code of laws, which regulated the discipline of the house, and the rule of St. Benedict dates back as far as the sixth century, though it was not introduced into England for more than a hundred years after it had been adopted elsewhere. Four hundred years is a very long time for any constitution or code of law to last unchanged, and though the English monasteries professedly were living according to the Benedictine rule during all the Saxon and the Danish times, yet there is too much reason to believe that if St. Benedict could have risen from the dead in the days of Edward the Confessor and made a visitation of many an English house, he would have been rather astonished to be told that the monks were living according to his rule.

About one hundred and fifty years before the Conquest, a great reformation had been attempted of the French monasteries, which it was said had fallen into a state of great decay so far as discipline and fervor were concerned, and a revision of the old rule had been found necessary, the reformers breaking away from the old Benedictines and subjecting themselves to a new and improved rule. These first reformers were called Cluniac monks, from the great Abbey of Clugni, in Burgundy, in which the new order of things had begun. The first English house of reformed or Cluniac monks was founded at Lewes, in Sussex, eleven years after the Conquest, by Gundrada, a step-daughter of William the Conqueror, and her

husband, William, Earl of Warrene and Surrey. The Cluniacs were at first famous for the simplicity of their lives and the strictness of their discipline, but as time went on they became too rich and so too luxurious, and at last they too needed reforming, and a new reformer arose. In this case the real moving spirit of reformation was an Englishman, one Stephen Harding, probably a Dorsetshire man, who was brought up at the Benedictine monastery of Sherborne, but in the course of events chosen abbot of the Monastery of Citeaux, where St. Bernard became his ardent disciple, and where the two enthusiasts, working cordially together, brought about that second reform of the Benedictines which resulted in the founding of the great Cistercian order.

Thus, without looking too minutely into the matter, we find that when the thirteenth century opens, or, if you will, when Henry III. came to the throne, in 1216, there were three great orders of monks in England — the old Benedictines, who had held houses and lands for centuries; the Cluniacs, who were the reformed Benedictines; and the Cistercians, who may be styled the reformed Cluniacs. But inasmuch as the architectural and other reforms among the Cistercians were many and peculiar, it will again be advisable to pass by these peculiarities for the present without remark.

The constitution of every convent, great or small, was monarchical. The head of the house was almost an absolute sovereign, and was called the abbot. His dominions often extended, even in England, over a very wide tract of country, and sometimes over several minor monasteries which were called cells. Thus the abbot of St. Alban’s had under himself the cell of Tynemouth in Northumberland and two others in Norfolk — viz., Binham and Wymondham, the latter of which eventually became an independent abbey — and the heads of these cells or subject houses were called priors. An abbey was. a monastery which was independent. A priory was a monastery which in theory or in fact was subject to an abbey. All the Cluniac monasteries in England were thus said to be alien priories, because they were mere cells of the great Abbey of Clugni in France, to which each priory paid heavy tribute; while the priors were almost always foreigners, and always appointed by the abbot of Clugni, and responsible to him much in the same way as a pacha is to his suzerain the sultan. On the other hand, the Cistercian houses were all abbeys, and their abbots sovereigns in alliance or confederation with one another, and exercising over their several convents supreme jurisdiction, though recognizing the abbot of Citeaux as their over-lord. The abbot not only had a separate residence within the monastery and lived apart from his monks, but he had his separate estate for the maintenance of his dignity, and to bear the very heavy expenses which that dignity necessitated, and he had the patronage of every office in the convent. The officers were numerous. The first of them was the prior, who was the abbot’s prime minister and head of the executive and the abbot’s representative in his absence. Under him was the sub-prior, sometimes a third prior, and then a number of functionaries, to whom, as in the case of the abbot, separate estates were assigned out of which they were bound to provide for certain charges which they were called upon to meet as best they could, and a complicated system of finance provided for the surplus of one office being applied when necessary for the deficiency of another.

In the great Abbey of Evesham a very elaborate constitution was drawn up and agreed to in the year 1214, after a long dispute between the abbot and convent which had lasted for several years, and this scheme has come down to us.

From it we find that certain officers (obedientiaries was their technical name) were charged with providing certain articles out of the revenue of the office. The prior, to whom no mean share of the revenues was assigned, had to provide the Earchment that might be required for usiness purposes or for legal instruments and all other materials for the scriptorium, except ink. The manciple was to provide all wine and mead, the keeping up the stock of earthenware cups, jugs, basins, and other vessels, together with the lamps and oil. The precentor had to find all the ink used, and all color required for illumination, the materials for book-binding, and the keeping the organ in repair. To the chamberlain were assigned certain revenues for providing all the clothing of the monks, it being stipulated that the abbot’s dress was not to be paid for out of the fund. In the same way certain small tithes were apportioned for buying basins, jugs, and towels for the guests’ chamber; while all rents levied from the various tenants paid not in money, but in kind — as, e.g., capons, eggs, salmon, eels,

herrings, etc. — were to be passed to the account of the kitchener. Every monk bearing office was bound to present his accounts for audit at regular intervals, and the rolls on which these accounts were inscribed exist in very large numbers, and may still be consulted by those who are able to read them.

It looks as if it were the policy of the Benedictines to give as many monks as possible some special duty and responsibility— to give each, in fact, a personal interest in the prosperity of the house to which he belonged — and the vacancies occurring from time to time in the various offices gave everybody something to look forward to. There was room for ambition, and, I am bound to add, room for a good deal of petty scheming, on the one hand, and truckling to the abbot, on the other; but it all went towards relieving the monotony of the life in the cloister — a monotony which has been very much overstated by those who have never studied the subject. To begin with, it does not follow that what would be very dull to us would be dull and insipid to the men of the thirteenth century. Before a man offered himself for admission to a monastery, he must have had a taste for a quiet life, and in many instances he had grown tired of the bustle, the struggle, and all the anxious wear of the work-day world. He wanted to be rid of bothers, in fact; he was pretty sure to have had a fair education, and he was presumably a religious man, with a taste for religious exercises; sometimes, and not unfrequently, he was a disappointed man, who had been left wifeless and childless ; sometimes, too, he was one whose career had been cut short suddenly by some accident which incapacitated him for active exertion and made him long only for repose and obscurity. Moreover, in those distant times the instinct of devotion was incomparably stronger than it is now, and people found a real and intense delight in the services of the sanctuary, to say nothing of their entire belief in the spiritual advantages to be derived from taking part in those services. Add to this that a monk had to pass through rather a long training before he was regularly admitted to full membership. He had to submit to a term of probation, during which he was subject to a somewhat rigorous ordeal. A novice had the pride taken out of him in a very effectual way during his novitiate — he was pretty much in the position of afag at a great school nowadays, and by the time that he had passed through his novitiate he was usually very well broken in, and in harmony with the spirit of the place in which he found himself. It was something to have a higher place assigned him at last in the church and the dormitory, to have some petty office given him, and to have a chance of being promoted byandby. There was Brother So-and-So, who was getting infirm, and he could not do the pitanciar’s work much longer; the precentor was getting as hoarse as a raven, and the sacrist was gouty, or the cellarer was showing signs of breaking up. Nay, the prior’s cough gave unmistakable signs of his lungs being wrong, and if he were to drop off, which we should of course all of us deplore — there would be a general move up, it might be; unless, indeed. Father Abbot should promote his chaplain over the heads of all of us — for such things have been!

But, when we come to look a little closer, we find that the monotony of monastic life was almost confined to the frequent services in the church. There were six services every day, of one kind or another, at which the whole convent was supposed to be present, and one service at midnight. The lay brethren among the Cistercians, and the servants engaged in field labor, were excused attendance at the nocturnal service, and those officials of the convent whose business required them to be absent from the precincts were also excused. Indeed, it would have been simply impossible for the whole brotherhood to assemble at all these services; there would have been a dead-lock in twenty-four hours if the attempt had ever been made in any of the large monasteries, where the inmates sometimes counted by hundreds, who all expected their meals punctually, and for whom even the simplest cookery necessitated that fires should be kept up, the porridge boiled, the beer drawn, and the bread baked. Hence, they whose hands were full and their engagements many really had no time to put in an appearance at church seven times in twenty-four hours. While, on the other hand, the monk out of office, with nothing particular to do, was all the better for having his time broken up; going to church kept him out of mischief, and singing of psalms saved him from idle talk, and if it did him no good certainly did him very little harm.

The ordinary life of the monastery began at six o’clock in the morning, and when the small beil, called the skilla, rang, all rose, washed themselves at the latrines, put on their day habit, and then presented

themselves at the matin mass. Miriam, or breakfast, followed, and that over, the convent assembled in chapter for consultation. After chapter the officials dispersed: the kitchener to arrange for the meals, and not unfrequentlv to provide hospitality for distinguished guests and their retinue; the precentor to drill his choir-boys, to tune the organ, to look after the music, or to arrange for some procession in the church, or some extraordinary function : the infirmarer to take his rounds in the hospital ; the cellarer to inspect the brewhouse and bakeries; and each or all of these officers might find it necessary to go far afield in looking after some bailiff or tenant who could not safely be left alone. At Evesham the sacristan, the chamberlain, and the infirmarer were allowed forage and the keep of one horse. Meanwhile in the cloister all was stir and movement without noise. In the west alley the schoolmaster was teaching his little pupils the rudiments of Latin, or it might be the elements of singing; in the south alley, where the light was best, a monk with a taste for art was trying his hand at illuminating a MS. or rubricating the initial letters ; while on the other side, in the north alley, some were painfully getting by heart the psalms, or practising meditation—alone in a crowd. Within the retirement of that cloister, fenced all round, as I have said, with the high walls and the great buildings, there the monks were working, there the real conventual life was going on ; but outside the cloister, though yet within the precincts, it is difficult for us now to realize what a vast hive of industry a great monastery in some of the lonely and thinly populated parts of England was. Everything that was eaten or drunk or worn, almost everything that was made or used in a monastery, was produced upon the spot. The grain grew on their own land; the corn was ground in their own mill; their clothes were made from the wool of their own sheep; they had their own tailors and shoemakers, and carpenters and blacksmiths, almost within call; they kept their own bees; they grew their own garden stuff and their own fruit; I suspect they knew more of fish-culture than, until very lately, we moderns could boast of knowing; nay, they had their own vineyards and made their own wine. The commissariat of a large abbey must have required administrative ability of a very high order, and the cost of hospitality was enormous. No traveller, whatever his degree, was refused food and shelter, and every monastery was a vast hotel, where nobody need pay more than he chose for his board and lodging. The mere keeping the accounts must have employed no small number of clerks, for the minuteness with which every transaction was recorded almost passes belief. Those rolls I spoke of, the sacrist’s, cellarer’s, and so on, were, it must be remembered, periodical balance-sheets handed in at audit day. They deal, not only with pence and halfpence, but with farthings and half-farthings, and were compiled from the tablets or small account-books posted up from day to day and hour to hour. They give the price of every nail hammered into a wall, and rarely omit the cost of the parchment on which the roll itself is written. The men must have been very busy, or, if you prefer it, very fussy — certainly they could not have been idle to have kept their accounts in this painfully minute manner, even to the fraction of a farthing.

In the natural course of events, as a monastery grew in wealth and importance, there was one element of interest which added great zest to the conventual life, in the quarrels that were sure to arise.

First and foremost, the most desirable person to quarrel with was a bishop. In its original idea, a monastery was not necessarily an ecclesiastical institution. It was not necessary that an abbot should be an ecclesiastic, and not essentially necessary that any one of his monks should be in holy orders. Long before the thirteenth century, however, a monk was almost invariably ordained, and being an ordained person, and having his local habitation in a bishop’s diocese, it was only natural that the bishop should claim jurisdiction over him and over the church in which he and the fraternity ministered j but to allow a power of visitation to any one outside the close corporation of the convent was fraught with infinite peril to the community. Confessing their faults one to another, and asking pardon of the lord abbot or his representative, the prior, was one thing; but to have a querulous or inquisitive or even hostile bishop coming and intruding into their secrets, blurting them out to the world and actually pronouncing sentence upon them — that seemed to the monks an absolutely intolerable and shocking condition of affairs. Hence it seemed supremely desirable to a convent to get for itself, by fair means or foul — and I am afraid the means were not always fair means, as we should consider them — the exemption of

their house from episcopal visitation or control. I believe that the earliest instance of such an exemption being granted in England was that of the Conqueror’s Abbey of Battle. The precedent was a bad one, and led to all sorts of attempts by other houses to procure for themselves the like privilege. Such attempts were stoutly resisted by the bishops, who foresaw the evils that would inevitably follow, and which, in fact, did follow; and, of course, bishop and abbey went to law. Going to law in this case meant usually, first, a certain amount of preliminary litigation before the Archbishop of Canterbury; but sooner or later it was sure to end in an appeal to the pope’s court, or, as the phrase was, an appeal to Rome.

Without wishing for a moment to defend or excuse a state of things which was always vexatious, and at last became intolerable, it is impossible to deny that a great deal of nonsense has been talked and written about these appeals. Almost exactly the same state of things exists in the present day both in civil and ecclesiastical matters. Parsee merchants fall to loggerheads in Bombay or Calcutta, and bring their disputes before the courts in India; one side feels aggrieved by the sentence, and straightway he removes the case to a court of appeal in London. Or some heretical person in Asia or Africa or somewhere else gets into hot water with an orthodox society for the promotion of religious persecution, and sooner or later the archbishop is appealed to, and the ecclesiastical lawyers have a most delightful time of it. It all costs a great deal of money nowadays, and leading advocates on this side or that are actually so extortionate that they will not do anything for nothing, and insist on receiving the most exorbitant fees. So it was in the old days. The final court of appeal in all matters ecclesiastical was before the pope at Rome or Avignon, and the proctors and doctors, and all the canonists and officials, actually required to be paid for their work.

When a monastery was in for a great fight with a bishop, it was a serious matter for both parties. But it was much more serious for the bishop than for the convent. The bishop had always his state to keep up and his many houses to maintain, and his establishment was enormously costly. His margin for law expenses was small; and I suspect that a bishop in England during the thirteenth century who had no private fortune outside of his mere episcopal revenues would

have been likely sooner or later to find himself in serious difficulties. On the other hand, in a great monastery all sorts of expedients could be resorted to in order to effect a salutary retrenchment — as when the monks of St. Albans agreed to give up the use of wine for fifteen years, and actually did so, that they might be able to rebuild their refectory and dormitory in the days of John the twenty-first abbot. Moreover, inasmuch as a corporation never dies, the convent could raise very heavy sums on the security of its estates, and take its own time to repay the loans. A bishop could not pledge his episcopal estates beyond his own lifetime, and the result was that, in the days when life assurance was unknown, a bishop who had to raise money for a costly lawsuit would have to pay a rate of interest which would make our blood run cold if we had to pay it, or our hearts leap for joy if we could get it in these days of two and three per cent. The bishop was always at a disadvantage in these appeal cases; he stood to lose everything, and he stood to win nothing at all except the satisfaction of his conscience that he was struggling for principle and right. And thus it came to pass that the monks enjoyed this kind of warfare, and rarely shrank from engaging in it. Indeed, an appeal to Rome meant sending a deputation from the convent to watch the case was going on, and there was all the delight of a foreign tour and a sight of the world — a trip, in fact, to the Continent at the expense of the establishment. But when there was no appeal case going on — and they were too expensive an amusement to be indulged in often — there was always a good deal of exciting litigation to keep up the interest of the convent, and to give them something to think about and gossip about nearer home. We have the best authority — the authority of the great pope Innocent III. — for believing that Englishmen in the thirteenth century were extremely fond of beer; but there was something else that they were even fonder of, and that was law. Monastic history is almost made up of the stories of this everlasting litigation; nothing was too trifling to be made into an occasion for a lawsuit. Some neighboring landowner had committed a trespass or withheld a tithe pig. Some audacious townsman had claimed the right of catching eels in a pond. Some brawling knight pretended he was in some sense patron of a cell, and demanded a trumpery allowance of bread and ale, or an equivalent. As we

read about these things we exclaim, “Why in the world did they make such a fuss about a trifle?” Not so thought the monks. They knew well enough what the thin end of the wedge meant, and, being in a far better position than we are to judge of the significance and importance of many a casus belli which now seems but trivial, they never dreamed of giving an inch for the other side to take an ell. So they went to law, and enjoyed it amazingly! Sometimes, however, there were disputes which were not to be settled peaceably; and then came what university men in the old days used to know as a ” town and gown row.”

Let it be remembered that a Benedictine monastery, in the early times, was invariably set down in a lonely wilderness. As time went on, and the monks brought the swamp into cultivation, and wealth flowed in, and the monastery became a centre of culture, there would be sure to gather round the walls a number of hangers-on, who gradually grew into a community, the tendency of which was to assert itself, and to become less and less dependent upon the abbey for support. These towns (for they became such; were, as a rule, built on the abbey land, and paid dues to the monastery. Of course, on the one side, there was an inclination to raise the dues; on the other, a desire to repudiate them altogether. Hence bad blood was sure to arise between the monks and the townsmen, and sooner or later serious conflicts between the servants of the monasteries and the people outside. Thus in 1223 there was a serious collision between the Londoners and the Westminster monks, the mob rushed into the monastery, and the abbot escaped their violence with difficulty by slipping out at a back door and getting into a boat on the Thames. On another occasion there was a very serious fray between the citizens of Norwich and the priory there, in 1272, when the prior slew one man with his own hands, and many lives were lost. At a later time there was a similar disturbance at Bury St. Edmunds, and in the year 1314 the great abbey of St. Albans was kept in a state of siege for more than ten days by the townsmen, who were driven to frenzy by not being allowed to grind their own corn in their own handmills, but compelled to get it ground by the abbey millers, and, of course, pay the fee.

Thirty years later, again, that man of sin, Sir Philip de Lymbury, lifttd up his heel’against the Abbey of St. Alban’s, and actually laid hands upon brother John Moote, the cellarer; and on Monday, being market day at Luton in Beds, did actually clap the said cellarer in the pillory, and kept him there, exposed to the jeers and contempt of the rude populace, who, we may be sure, were in ecstasies at this precursor of Mr. Pickwick in the pound. But the holy martyr St. Alban was not likely to let such an outrage pass; and when the rollicking knight came to the abbey to make it up, and was for presenting a peace-offering at the shrine, lo, the knightly nose began to bleed profusely, and, to the consternation of the beholders, the offering could not be made, and Sir Philip had to retire, holding his nose, and shortly after he died — and, adds the chronicler, was speedily forgotten, he and his.

Such milling of the peace and quiet of conventual life was, there is reason to believe, not uncommon. But inside the cloister itself there was not always a holy calm. When the abbot died there came all the canvassing and excitement of a contested election, and sometimes a convent might be turned for years into a house divided against itself, the two parties among the monks fighting like cat and dog. Nor did it at all follow because the convent had elected their abbot or prior unanimously that therefore the election was allowed by the king, to whom the elect was presented.* King John kept monasteries without any abbot for years, sequestrating the estates in the mean time, and leaving the monks to make the best of it. Sometimes an abbot was forced upon a monastery in spite of the convent, as in the case of Abbot Roger Norreys at Evesham, in 1191 — a man whom the monks not only detested because of his gross mismanagement, but whom they denounced as actually immoral. Sometimes, too, the misconduct of a prior was so abominable that it could not be borne, and then came the very difficult and very delicate business of getting him deposed: a process which was by no means easily managed, as appeared in the instance of Simon Pumice, prior of Worcester, in 1319, and in many another case.

Such hopes and fears and provocations as these all contributed to relieve the monotony which it has been too readily assumed was the characteristic of the cloister life. The monks had a world of their

* See a notable instance in Carlyle’a Past and Present .

own within the precincts, but they were not so shut in but that their relations with the greater world outside were very real. Moreover, that confinement to the monastery itself, which was necessarily very greatly relaxed in the case of the officers or obedientiaries, as they were called, was almost as easily relaxed if one of the brethren could manage to get the right side of the abbot or prior. When Archbishop Peckham was holding his visitations in 1282 he more than once remarks with asperity upon a monk farming a manor of his convent, and declares that the practice must stop. The outlying manors must have somebody to look after them, it was assumed, and if one of the brethren was willing to undertake the management for the convent, why should he not? Nor, again, must we suppose that the monks were debarred all amusements. On August 29, 1283, there was a great wrestling-match at Hockliffe, in Beds, and a huge concourse of people of all sorts were there to see the fun. The roughs and the “fancy” were present in great force, and somehow it came to pass that a free fight ensued. I am sorry to say that the canons of Dunstable were largely represented upon the occasion. We are left to infer that the representatives were chiefly the servants of the canons, but I am afraid that some at least of their masters were there too. In the fight one Simon Mustard, who appears to have been something like a professional prize-fighter, “a bully exceeding fierce,” says the annalist, got killed; but thereon ensued much inquiry and much litigation, and Dunstable and its ” religious ” had to suffer vexations not a few. In fairness it should be remembered that these Dunstable people were not monks but canons — regular or irregular — and those canons, we all know, would do anything. We protest against being confounded with canons!

The amusements of monks were more innocent. The garden was always a great place of resort, and gardening a favorite pastime. We may be sure there was much lamentation and grumbling at St. Alban’s when Abbot John de Maryns forbade any monk, who from infirmity could only be carried on a litter, from entering the garden at all. Poor old fellows! had their bearers been disorderly and trodden upon the flower-beds? Bowls was the favorite and a very common diversion among them; but in the opinion of Archbishop Peckham, as appears by his letters, there were other diversions of a far more reprehensible character. Actually at the small priory of Coxford, in Norfolk, the prior and his canons were wholly given over to chess-playing. It was dreadful! In other monasteries the monks actually hunted ; not only the abbots, but the common domestic monks! Nay, such things were to be found as monks keeping dogs, or even birds, in the cloister. Peckham denounces these breaches of decorum as grave offences, which were not to be passed over and not to be allowed. What! a black monk stalking along with a bullpup at his heels, and a jackdaw, worse than the jackdaw of Rheims, using bad words in the garth, and showing an evil example to the chorister boys, with his head on one side!

But, after all, it must be confessed that the greatest of all delights to the thirteenth-century monks was eating and drinking. “Sir, I like my dinner!” said Dr. Johnson, and I don’t think any one thought the worse of him for his honest outspokenness. The dinner in a great abbey was clearly a very important event in the day — I will not say it was the important event, but it was a iiery important one. It must strike anyone who knows much of the literature of this age that the weak point in the monastic life of the thirteenth century was the gormandizing. It was exactly as, I am told, it is on board ship on a long voyage, where people have little or nothing to do, they are always looking forward to the next meal, and the sound of the dinner-bell is the most exciting sound that greets the ear in the twenty-four hours. And so with the monks in a great monastery which had grown rich, and in point of fact had more money than it knew what to do with: the dinner was the event of the day. It is not that we hear much of drunkenness, for we really hear very little of it, and where it is spoken of it is always with reprobation. Nor is it that we hear of anything like the loathsome and disgusting gluttony of the Romans of the empire, but eating and drinking, and especially eating, are always cropping up; one is perpetually being reminded of them in one way or another, and it is significant that when the Cistercian revival began, one of the chief reforms aimed at was the rigorous simplification of the meals and the curtailing the luxury of the refectory. But the monks were not the only people in those times who had a high appreciation of good cheer. When a man of high degree took up his quarters in a monastery he by no means wished to be put off with salt-fish

and-toast-and-water cheer. Richard de Marisco, one of King John’s profligate councillors, who was eventually foisted into the see of Durham, gave the Abbey of St. Alban’s the tithes of Eglingham, in Northumberland, to help them to make their ale better — “taking compassion upon the weakness of the convent’s drink,” as the chronicler tells us. The small beer of St. Alban’s, it seems, was not as much improved as was to be desired, notwithstanding this appropriation of Church property, for twice after this the abbey had the same delicate hint given to it that its brewing was not up to the mark, when the rectory of Norton, in Hertfordshire, and two-thirds of the tithes of Hartburn, in Northumberland, were given to the monastery that no excuse might remain for the bad quality of the malt liquor.

And here let me remark in passing that another widespread delusion needs to be removed from the popular mind with regard to the relations between the monks and the clergy. We have again and again heard people say, ” Wonderfully devoted men, those monks! Look at the churches all over the land! If it had not been for the monks how could all the village churches have been built? The monks built them all!” Monks build parish churches! Why, the monks were the greatest church-robbers that the world has ever known; they were always robbing the country parsons, and the town parsons, too, for that matter. Every vicarage in England represents a spoliation of the church, whose rectorial tithes had been appropriated by a religious house, the parson being left with the vicarial tithes, and often not even with them, but thrown for his daily bread upon the voluntary offerings of his parishioners. The monks build churches! I could not from my own knowledge bring forward a single instance in all the history of England of a monastery contributing a shilling of money or a load of stone for the repair, let alone the erection of any parish church in the land. So far from it, they pulled down the churches when they had a chance, and they were always on the look-out to steal the rectory houses and substitute for them any cheap-and-nasty vicarage unless the bishop kept a sharp look-out upon them and came to the help of his clergy. Of all the sins that the monks had to answer for, this greedy grasping at Church property, this shameless robbery of the seculars, was beyond compare the most inexcusable and the most mischievous. To the credit of the Cistercians it must be told that they at first set themselves against the wholesale pillage of the parochial clergy. I am not prepared to say they were true to their first principles — no corporate society ever was, and least of all a religious corporation — but at starting the Cistercians were decidedly opposed to the alienating of tithes and appropriating them to the endowment of their abbeys, and this was probably one among other causes why the Cistercians prospered so wonderfully as they did during the first hundred years or so after their first coming here; people believed that the new order was not going to live by robbing parsons, as the older orders had done without remorse. The swindler always thinks his victim a fool, and the victim never forgives the smarter man who has taken him in. Accordingly the monks always pretended to think scorn of the clergy, and when the monasteries fell the clergy were the very last people to lament their fall.

And this brings us to the question of the moral condition of the monasteries. Professor Stubbs has called the thirteenth century “the golden age of English Churchmanship.” Subject to correction from that greatest of England’s great historians — and subject to correction too from others, who, standing in a rank below his unapproachable eminence, are yet very much my superiors in their knowledge of this subject—I venture to express my belief that the thirteenth century was also the golden age of English monachism. Certainly we know much more about the monasteries and their inner life during this period than at any other time. The materials ready to our hand are very voluminous, and the evidence accessible to the inquirer is very various. I do not believe that any man of common fairness and candor who should give some years to the careful study of those materials and that evidence could rise from his examination with any other impression than that, as a body, the monks of the thirteenth century were better than their age. Vicious and profligate, drunken and unchaste, as a class, they certainly were not. Of course there were scandalous brethren. Here and there — but rarely, very rarely — there was a wicked abbot or prior. Of course there were instances of abominations on which one cannot dwell; of course there are stories which are bad to read; stories which find their way into the chronicles because they were strange or startling; but these stories are always told with hor

ror, and commented upon with severity and scorn. Excuse for wickedness or any palliation of it you simply never find.

On the other hand, the intense espritde corps of a convent of monks went beyond anything that we can now realize, and led to grave sins against truth and honesty. The forgeries of charters, bulls, and legal instruments of all kinds for the glorification of a monastery by its members was at least condoned only too frequently. It can hardly be doubted that the scriptorium of many a religious house must have been turned to very discreditable uses by unscrupulous and clever scribes, with the connivance if not with the actual knowledge of the convent, for such things were not done in a corner. If the forgeries succeeded—and that they often did succeed we know — the monastery got all the advantage of the rascality; no inquiry was made, and it was tacitly assumed that where so much was gained, and the pride of ” our house ” was gratified, the end justified the means.

There remains one question which may suggest itself to our minds as it has often suggested itself to others. From what class or classes in society were the monks for the most part taken? This is one of the most difficult questions to answer. The late Dr. Maitland, who perhaps knew more, and had read more, about monks and monasteries than any Englishman of his time, professed himself unable to answer it; and my friend Dr. Luard — whose labors in this field of research have gained for him a European reputation, and whose wonderful industry, carefulness, and profound knowledge qualify him to speak with authority on such a point, if anyone might pronounce upon it — hesitates to give a decided opinion. The impression that is left upon my own mind is, that the thirteenth-century monk, as a rule, was drawn from the gentry class, as distinguished from the aristocracy on the one hand, or the artisans on the other — in fact, mutatis mutandis, that the representatives of the monks of the thirteenth century were the fellows of colleges of the nineteenth before the recent alteration of university and college statutes came into force. An ignorant monk was certainly a rarity, an absolutely unlettered or uneducated one was an impossibility, and an abbot or prior who could not talk and write Latin with facility, who could not preach with tolerable fluency on occasion, and hold his own as a debater and man of business, would have found himself sooner or later in a very ridiculous and very uncomfortable position, from which he might be glad to escape by resignation.

Three centuries after the time we have been considering, the religious houses were suppressed — to use that euphonious term which has become universally accepted— only after they had existed in these islands in one form or another for at least a thousand years. Century after century monasteries continued to spring up, and there never was much difficulty in finding devout people who were ready to befriend a new order, to endow it with lands, and to give it a fair start. In other words, there was always a demand for new monasteries, and the first sure sign that that demand had been met, and more than met, was when the supply of monks began to fall short, and when, as was the case before the end of the fifteenth century, the religious houses could not fill up their full complement of brethren. Is it conceivable that this constant demand could have gone on, if the common sense of the nation had not been profoundly convinced, and continuously convinced, that the religious orders gave back some great equivalent for all the immense surrenders of wealth which generation after generation of Englishmen had made—some equivalent for all the vast stream of benefactions which flowed on from age to age so strongly that kings and statesmen had to interfere and check, if it might be, the dangerous prodigality of lavish benefactors? What that equivalent was, what the real work of the monasteries was, what great functions they discharged in the body politic, what the nation at large gained by their continuance and lost by their fall — these are questions which on this occasion I am not concerned with, and with which I scrupulously forbear from dealing. But there are moments when a great horror comes upon some men’s minds, and a vision of a lonely and childless old age rises before them in the gloom of a dreary twilight, or when the mists of autumn hide the sunbeams, and they think, ” If desolation were to come upon our homes, where could we hide the stricken head and broken heart?” To that question — a morbid question if you will—1 have never found an answer. The answer was possible once, but it was in an age which has passed away.

Yes, that age has passed away forever. History repeats itself, it is true, but history will not bear mimicry. In every melody that wakes the echoes there is repetition of this note and that, the same

single sound is heard again and again; but the glorious intertwinings of the several parts, the subtle fingers and merry peals of laughter that “flash along the chords and go,” the wail of the minor, as if crying for the theme that has vanished and yet will reappear — “like armies whispering where great echoes be”—these things are not mere repetition; they are messages from the Eternal Father to the sons of men, reminding them that the world moves on. Merely to ape the past, and to attempt to reproduce in the nineteenth century the tree that had taken a millennium to grow into its maturity in the thirteenth and was rudely cut down root and branch in the sixteenth, is about as wise as it would be to try and make us sing the Hallelujah Chorus in unison! Let the dead bury their dead. Meanwhile the successors of the thirteenth-century monasteries are rising up around us each after their kind; Pall Mall swarms with them, hardly less splendid than their progenitors, certainly not less luxurious. Our modern monks look out of the windows of the Carlton and the Athenaeum with no suspicion that they are at all like the monks of old. Nor are they. They lack the old faith, the old loyalty to their order, and with the old picturesqueness something else that we can less afford to miss — the old enthusiasm. We look back upon the men of the thirteenth century with much complacency. A supercilious glance at the past seems to give the moderns an excellent opinion of themselves. But suppose the men of the thirteenth century could turn the tables upon us, and, from their point of view, pass their judgment upon the daily life of the conventuals of St. James’s, who are, after all, only survivals, but just conceivably not quite survivals of the fittest; would the monks of old find all things quite up to the highest ideal? or would they hide their heads in shame and confusion of face compelled to acknowledge that the new was in all things so much better than the old? Augustus Jessop.

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Once upon a time—on or aboot the 13th of August, 1819; it might have bets a few or many days before or after that day, or a month or so before or after that month—the day or month is of less coosequence to the reader, than to the editor, who desires to ” bring in” an interesting anecdote or two on the 13th day of August. Once upon a time, a cat—it is a feet —for it is in The Scotsman newspaper of the 23d of October, 1819—ocee upon a time, a cat, belonging to a shipmaster, was left on shore, by accident, when his vessel sailed from the harbocr of Aberdour, Fifeshire, which lies aboc: half a mile from the village. The vessel was absent about a month, and, on her return, to the astonishment of the shipmaster, puss came on board with a fist stout kitten in her mouth, apparently about three weeks old, and went directly down to the cabin. Two others of her young were afterwards caught, quite wild, in a neighbouring wood, where she mm: have remained with them till the return of the vessel. The shipmaster did not allow her again to go on shore, otherwise it is probable she would have brought the whole litter on board. What is more remarkable, vessels were daily entering and leaving the harbour, none of which she ever thought of visiting till the one she had left returned.* This extraordinary instance of feline sagacity, on the day before mentioned or imagined, is paralleled by another:—

A lady lately living at Potsdam, wbea a child of six years, ran a splinter into her foot, sat down upon the floor, and cried most violently. At first her cries were not regarded, as they were considered to be more the effect of a pettish and obstinate temper, than of any great pain which the accident could have occasioned her. At length the elder sister of the child, who had been lying asleep in bed, was roused by her cries, and as she was just about to get out of bed, in order to quiet her sister, she observed a cat, who was a favourite playmate of the children, and otherwise of a very gentle disposition, leave her seat under the stove, go to the

• Zoological Anecdote*.

crying girl, and having given her with one of her paws so smart a blow upon the cheek as to draw blood, walk back again with the utmost gravity to her place under the stove. As this cat was by no means of a malicious disposition, for she had grown up together with the younger children of the family, and never designedly scratched any of them, it seems that her intention upon this occasion was to chastise the pettish girl, and put an end to her troublesome cries, in order that she might herself be able to finish her morning nap without further interruption.*

* Zoological Anecdotes.

In the ” Orleans Collection” of pictures there was a fine painting of a ” Concert of Cat;” by F. Breughel, from whence there is a print, among the engravings of that gallery, sufficiently meritorious and whimsical to deserve a place here; and therefore it is represented in the sketch on the present page. In justice, to the justice done to it, Mr. Samuel Williams must be mentioned as the artist who both drew and engraved it. The fixed attention of the feline performers is exceedingly amusing, and by no means unnatural; for it appears by the notes that mice is their theme, and they seem engaged in a catch.

Brtugfrl’0 Contert of Cats.

Ye rats, in triumph elevate your ears!

Exult, ye mice 1 tor fate’s abhorred shears

Of Dick’s nine lives have slit the cat-guts nine;

Henceforth he mews midst choirs of cats divine!

cat in the caterie of an old woman, who was tried for bewitching a daughter of the countess of Rutland in the beginning of the sixteenth century.” The monodist connects him with cats of great renown in the annals of witchcraft; a science whereto they have been allied as closely as poor old women, one of whom, i,t appears, on the authority of an old pamphlet entitled “Newes from Scotland,” fie. printed

So sings Mr. Huddesford, in a “Monody on the Death of Dick, an Academical Cat,” with this motto,—

“MI-CAT inter orones.”

Hor. Carm. Lib. i. Ode 12.

He brings his cat Dick from the Hood, and consequently through Rutterkin, a cat who was “cater-cousin to the greatgreat-great-great- great-great- great-greatgreat-grandmother of Grimalkin, and first

in the year 1591,” confessed that she took rest of the shippes then being in his com-a cat and christened it, Sec. and that in panie, which thing was most straunge and the night following, the said cat was con- (rue,as the kingesmajestieacknowledged,

veyed into the middest of the sea by all for when the rest of the shippes had a fair these witches sayling in their Riddles, or and good winde, then was the winde con- Cives, and so left the said cat right before trarie, and altogether against his ma

the towne of Leith in Scotland. This jestie,” &c.

done, there did arise such a tempest at All sorts of cats, according to Huddes

sea as a greater hath not been seen, &c. ford, lamented the death of his favourite,

Againe it is confessed, that the said chris- whom he calls “premier cat upon the cata

tened cat was the cause of the kinges ma- logue,” and who, preferring sprats to all

jestie’s shippe, at his coming forthe of other fish,—
Denmarke, had a contrarie winde to the

“Had swallow’d down a score without remorse,
And three fat mice slew for a second course,
But, while the third his grinders dyed with gore,
Sudden those grinders clos’d—to grind no more!
And, dire to tell! commission’d by Old Nick,
A catalepsy made an end of Dick.

“Calumnious cats who circulate faux pas,
And reputations maul with murd’rous claws;
Shrill cats whom fierce domestic brawls delight,
Cross cats who nothing want but teeth to bite,
Starch cats of puritanic aspect sad,
And learned cats who talk their husbands mad;
Confounded cats who cough, and croak, and cry,
And maudlin cats who drink eternally;
Fastidious cats who pine for costly cates,
And jealous cats who catechise their mates;
Cat-prudes who, when they’re ask’d the question, squall,
And ne’er give answer categorical;
Uncleanly cats, who never pare their nails,
Cat-gossips full of Canterbury tales,
Cat grandams vex’d with asthmas and catarrhs,
And superstitious cats who curse their stars;
Cats of each class, craft, calling, and degree
Mourn Dick’s calamitous catastrophe!

“Yet, while I chant the cause of Richard’s end,
Ye sympathizing cats, your tears suspend’
Then shed enough to float a dozen whales,
And use, for pocket-handkerchiefs, your tails !—
“Ah! tho’ thy bust adorn no sculptur’d shrine,
■<Jo vase thy relics rare to fame consign,
Vo rev’rend characters thy rank express,
Nor hail thee, Dick! D.D. nor F.R.S.
Tho’ no funereal cypress shade thy tomb
For thee the wreaths of Paradise shall bloom.
There, while Grimalkin’s mew her Richard greets,
A thousand cats shall purr on purple seats:
E’en now I see, descending from his throne,
Thy venerable cat, O Whittinglon!
The kindred excellence of Richard hail,
And wave with joy his gratulating tail!
There shall the worthies of the whisker’d race
Elysian mice o’er floors of sapphire chase,
Midst beds of aromatic maruiu stray,
Or raptur’d rove beside the Milky Way.
Kittens, than eastern houris fairer seen,
Whose bright eyes glisten with immortal green,

Shall smooth for tabby swains their yielding fur,
And to their amorous mews assenting purr.—
There, like Alcmena’s, shall Grimalkin’s Son
In bliss repose,—his mousing labours done,
Fate, envy, curs, lime, tide, and traps defy,
And caterwaul to all eternity.”


Cats neither like to be put out of their way, nor to be kept out of their food :— In cloisters, wherein people are immured in Roman catholic countries, to keep or make them of that religion, it is customary to announce the hours of meals by ringing a bell. In a cloister in France, a cat that was kept there was used never to receive any victuals till the bell rung, and she therefore never failed to be within hearing of it. One day, however, she happened to be shut up in a solitary apartment, and the bell rang in vain, as far as regarded her. Being some hours after liberated from her confinement, she ran, half famished, to the place where a plate of victuals used generally to be set for her, but found none this time. In the afternoon the bell was heard ringing at an unusual hour, and when the people of the cloister came to see what was the cause of it, they found the cat hanging upon the bell-rope, and setting it in motion as well as she was able, in order that she might have her dinner served up to her*

There is a surprising instance of the sensibility of cats to approaching danger:— In the year 1783, two cats, belonging to a merchant at Messina, in Sicily, announced to him the approach of an earthquake. Before the first shock was felt, these two animals seemed anxiously to endeavour to work their way through the floor of the room in which they were. Their master observing their fruitless efforts, opened the door for them. At a second and third door, which they likewise found shut,they repeated theirefforts, and on being set completely at liberty, they ran straight through the street, and out of the gate of the town. The merchant, whose curiosity was excited by this strange conduct of the cats, followed them into the fields, where he again saw them scratching and burrowing in the earth. Soon after there was a violent shock of an earthquake, and many of the

houses in the city fell down, of which the merchant’s was one, so that he was indebted for his life to the singular forebodings of his cats.* Few who possess the faculty of hearing, and have heard the music of cats, would desire the continuance of their “sweet voices,” yet a concert was exhibited at Paris, wherein cats were the performers. They were placed in rows, and a monkey beat time to them. According as he beat the time, so the cats mewed; and the historian of the fact relates, that the diversity of the tones which they emitted produced a very ludicrous effect. This exhibition was announced to the Parisian public by the title of Concert Miaulant.f

Cats were highly esteemed by the Egyptians, who under the form of a cat symbolized the moon, or Isis, and placed it upon their systrum, an instrument of religious worship and divination. Count Caylus engraved a cat with two kittens, which, while he supposes one of the kittens to be black and the other white, he presumes to have represented the phases of the moon.

Cats are supposed to have been brought into England from the island of Cyprus, by some foreign merchants who came hither for tin. In the old Welsh laws, a kitten from its birth till it could see was valued at a penny; when it began to mouse at twopence; and after it had killed mice at fourpence, which was the price of a calf. Wild cats were kept by our ancient kings for hunting. The officers who had the charge of these cats seem to have had appointments of equal consequence with the masters of the king’s hounds; they were called catatoret

Gray’s elegy on a cat drowned in a globe of water with gold fishes is wellknown. Dr. Jortin wrote a Latin epitaph on a favourite cat.

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Jortin’s Epitaph On His Cat

Imitated m English

Worn out with age and dire disease, a cat,
Friendly to all, save wicked mouseand rat:
I’m sent at last to ford the Stygian lake,
And to the infernal coast a voyage make.
Me Proserpine receiv’d, and smiling said,
“Be bless’d within these mansions of the dead;
Enjoy among thy velvet-footed loves,
Elysium’s sunny banks and shady groves.”
“But if I’ve well deserv’d, (O gracious queen,)
If patient under sufferings I have been,
Grant m •at leastone night to visit home again
Once m>rc to see my home, and mistress dear,
And purr these grateful accents in her ear.
Thy faithful cat, thy poor departed slave,
Still lovesher mistress ev’n beyond the grave.”•


MarshGrounsel. Senecio paludottu.
Dedicated to St. Radigundes.

Stagusft 14.

S. Eusebius, 3rd Cent. 5*. Eusebius,

It is stated in The Times,on the authority of an ” Evening Paper,” that two beautiful old trees in Nottingham park during the hot weather (of July and August, 1825,) shed all their leaves, and were as completely stripped as they are usually in November. Their appearance afterwards was more surprising. Wet weather came, they put forth new leaves and were as fully clothed in August as they were before the long season of the dry hot weather.

Southern Magazine, Volume 7

Southern Magazine, Volume 7


For The New Eclectic Magazine.

IN one of our flourishing Western cities a curious will was recently offered for probate. The testator, a rich and eccentric business man, disinherits all his natural heirs, and devises the entire property in trust for the establishment of an Infirmary for Cats. ” It provides areas for that sweet amatory converse so dear to the -feline heart, and rat-holes of the most ravishing nature are to be kept constantly stocked. The most ingenious contrivances are provided for securing to the rat a chance for escape, so that the cats may not lose the pleasure of the chase by finding their prey come too easily. High walls are to be built with gentle sloping roofs, for the moonlight promenade and other nocturnal amusements of the cats.” Aware of the greater partiality of the tender sex for his favorites, he provides that no male person is to be admitted to the hospital under any pretext whatever. Finally, he orders his body to be disposed of and the proceeds to be applied to the purchase of an accordeon, ” which shall be played in the auditorium of the cat infirmary by one of the regular nurses, to be selected for that purpose exclusively, the playing to be kept up forever and ever, without cessation day or night, in order that the cats may have the privilege of always hearing and enjoying that instrument which is the nearest approach to their natural voice.” Of course his heirs contest the will. Be the result of this litigation what it may, it has suggested some reflections as to the partiality with which the cat has ever been regarded by mankind. Personally I have no sympathy with the animal. I have always believed with Buffon that ” the cat is a treacherous servant, only retained from necessity in order to keep away another less domestic and still more treacherous ; ” and hence I never could understand how any one could pet and fondle so malicious a creature. Yet this latter treatment has been accorded it from the earliest times. Among the Greeks, for example, the cat was consecrated to the chaste Diana, which may serve to explain in some degree why he is even now so great a favorite with our maiden friends. The Egyptians went still further ; they had a goddess named Bast, who is represented as having the head of a cat, and bearing in her hand the sistrum, symbol of universal harmony. The animal was worshipped in the temple of the goddess as her living image, and after its death was embalmed and buried with ceremonial pomp. Several monuments of deceased wives bear the inscription Techan (Cat) as a mark of this goddess’s patronage, and to this day many husbands, not even dreaming of this ancient custom, ” kitten ” their wives as a term of affectionate endearment.

Cat-worship, though hardly a religion in modern Christian society, has not been wholly interrupted since those old Egyptian times ; for although no longer bandaged up and transformed into a mummy after

Something About Cats. 605

death, the animal is now petted and surrounded by attentions and caresses during life, which it must certainly prefer to post-mortem deification.

Curiously enough, the conflict of ancient authorities leaves the symbolism of the cat enveloped in mystery. One author says that the cat was worshipped in the Temple of the Sun because the pupil of the animal’s eye follows in its proportions the height of the sun above the horizon, and in this respect represents that wonderful luminary. On the other hand, Plutarch in his treatise of Iris and Osiris says that ” the image of the cat was placed on the top of the sistrum as an emblem of the moon, because of the variety of its skin, and because it favors the night, and because the pupil of its eye dilates and enlarges during the full moon, while it contracts and diminishes when the moon is on the wane.” Not being able to reconcile these differences, we can only assume that the cat was accepted as a symbol of both luminaries.

A distinguished Eastern traveller and scholar says it is a prevailing belief among the Arabs that the Djinns assume this form in order to haunt their houses ; and on this subject they tell the most extravagant stories worthy of the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments. The inhabitants of Thebes are still more superstitious, and their fervid imagination poetises the lethargic sleep occasioned by catalepsy. They pretend that when a woman gives birth to twins, the last born (called by them baracy) experiences during certain periods of its life an irresistible desire for certain dishes, and in order the more easily to satisfy its appetite, assumes the forms of different animals, most frequently that of the cat. During this transmigration of the soul into another body, the human being remains as inanimate as a corpse ; but as soon as the soul has satisfied its desires, it returns to restore its habitual form to life. He continues : — ” Having one day killed a cat which was committing many depredations in my kitchen at Longsor, a neighboring druggist came, almost dead with alarm, and implored me to spare these animals in future, telling me that his daughter, having the mis fortune to be baracy, often adopted the form of a cat to eat my dessert.”

But our modern Dianas need not seek a justification for their preference in the high estimation accorded their favorite in the super stitions and worship of ancient and modern heathens. Many men of mighty minds, who in all times have engraved their names on the world’s history, have displayed an unaccountable fondness for the cat — a partiality that was frequently evidenced in a peculiar manner. The memory of the Sultan El-Daher-Beybars, who reigned over Egypt and Syria about the year 1260 of our era, and who has been compared to Caesar in bravery and to Nero in cruelty, should be held in especial veneration by the entire feline race ; for at his death, like our modern testator, he bequeathed a garden, called in the Egyptian tongue by a name signifying ‘.’ The Cat’s Vineyard,” and situated near his mosque, just outside of the city of Cairo, as a refuge and support for needy and ownerless cats. Unfortunately, the hard-hearted Cadis who had charge of this bequest have attended to their duty so negligently that the garden was sold and resold under various pretexts, until finally it only yielded a pitiful revenue of a few piastres, which, however,

606 Something About Cats.

is still invested in the purchase of such food as cats are supposed to relish most, and which is doled out to them at a certain hour every day. A similar instance occurs in Italy. A cloister still exists near the church of San Lorenzo, in Florence, which is used as an asylum for cats. Whoever cannot or will not keep his cat, carries it to this cloister, where it is well cared for ; while any one desiring to procure one of these animals, can go there and select any that suits him, as they have them of all kinds, ages, and colors.

Mahomet, too, one of the world’s great reformers, the founder of a creed that after the lapse of twelve centuries not only lives and flourishes but actually numbers more disciples than any other of the numerous sects into which mankind is divided, was devoted to a cat which was made immortal by the following legend : — One day he was in his study meditating upon his philosophic theories ; his cat, Muezza, was lying on the skirts of his robe. The prophet sat meditating a long while ; the cat fell asleep. The hour arrived when Mahomet must go to his devotions ; so he took a pair of scissors, cut off the ends of his skirt on which Muezza was sleeping, and arose, happy at not having disturbed the animal’s slumbers.

In more modern times, the famous Lord Chesterfield showed his affection for the race by bequeathing pensions to his cats and their descendants ; and not many years since a law-suit created some commotion in French society. A brother attacked his sister’s sanity, adducing as an evidence of it the fact that she wore the tooth of a deceased cat set in a ring. M. Cremieux, the celebrated advocate, pleaded the lady’s cause. After citing several instances of famous characters who in our own day had exhibited a similar attachment to the feline race, he related the following anecdote of a distinguished soldier: — “The name of General Houdaille is known to you all, brave as his sword, who rose from the rank of lieutenant to that of General of Artillery. He preserved even to his death a true tenderness for cats. He kept three of them always with him in his bachelor apartments. Forced to lead the regiment, of which he was then Colonel, from Toulouse to Metz, and accidentally leaving his cats behind, he returned to Toulouse for the sole purpose of getting them, and carried them to his new garrison.”

Cardinal Richelieu is said to have been constantly surrounded in his study by kittens, whose gambollings amused him. But he can scarcely be claimed as a lover of cats, for so soon as the poor kittens reached the age of three months, he would send them away and supply their place with younger ones. And Cardinal Wolsey during his audiences of State, always had his cat seated on a bench beside him.

Every one has heard of Sir Isaac Newton’s cat, to facilitate whose comings and goings a hole was cut in the door of his study ; and when she had kittens, we all know that the great philosopher caused another and a smaller hole to be cut in the door for the accommodation of the little ones. And who is not familiar with the history of the famous Lord Mayor of London, Whittington, and his no less famous cat ? I am aware that certain restless, irreverent spirits, following the iconoclastic tendencies of the age, have sought to throw discredit upon this story, by asserting that ” cat ” is a corruption of a Scandinavian

Something About Cats. 607

word signifying “cargo,” and that the future Lord Mayor was an enterprising tradesman who brought a full-freighted vessel to London. But I am too devout a worshipper of my youthful idols to suffer this one to be broken by any such ruthless etymologists.

M. Champfleury, a distinguished French litterateur, describing a visit to Victor Hugo, says : — ” I was received in a room decorated with tapestries and Gothic monuments. In the centre of it was a large red dais, on which a cat was throned that seemed proudly to await the homage of visitors. It was Victor Hugo’s cat ; the same, perhaps, whose idleness and indolence earned for it the name of ‘ Chanoine ‘ in the Lettres sur le Rhin.”

Theophile Gautier, one of the only three living Frenchmen who in the opinion of Alexander Dumas ” write French correctly,” curiously enough divided his affections between cats and white mice. Sainte- Beuve allowed his cat to roam at will over his desk in the midst of papers and memoranda that no servant would have dared to disarrange. And so we might go on citing innumerable instances of this infatuation in distinguished living authors.

Surely, after such illustrious examples, we cannot blame the poor lone woman who, doomed to a life of hopeless celibacy, neither husband nor child nor family, but needing some object on which to vent the sentiments of affection and love with which her breast naturally over flows, lavishes her caresses on the head of a cat, her only friend.

Emblazoned in heraldry, worshipped by the ancients, petted by old maids, object of the warrior’s solicitude and sharer of the statesman’s cabinet, it would be strange indeed if the cat had not been immortal ised by the poet’s pen or the painter’s pencil. Happily, the most famous poets have not disdained to sing his praises. Petrarch loved his cat almost as devotedly as he did the lovely Laura, sang sonnets to its charms, and when it died, had it embalmed after the Egyptian custom. Tasso addressed one of his most beautiful sonnets to his cat. The pure and gentle Cowper, and the bitter and cynical Baudelaire, have alike attuned their lyre to its praise ; and most of us have read Gray’s humorous lines ” On the death of a favorite cat drowned in a tub of gold fishes.”

Painters too, like Godfrey Mind, the Raphael of cats, Eugene Delacroix, and others of large reputation, have devoted time and talent to transferring its image to immortal canvass ; while romancists like Poe in America, and Hoffman in Germany, have either made it the subject of, or interwoven its pranks in some of their most fantastic and highly- wrought stories.

Henceforward, therefore, I shall not ridicule my young lady friends when I see them bestow affectionate caresses on cats, however much I may envy the latter their good fortune. And here a reflection suggests itself. When the love-stricken Romeo sees the fair Juliet ” lean her cheek upon her hand,” he exclaims : —

” Oh ! that I were a glove upon that hand That I might kiss that cheek ! ”

And so lovers innumerable have sighed to be pet birds, poodles, rings, girdles, even the breeze that fans the loved one’s cheek — anything

608 Something About Cats.

to obtain the caresses lavished upon these. Indeed, one sentimental youth very modestly limited his aspirations as follows : —

” I wish I was the looking-glass

That hangs upon your parlor wall, For then I know whene’er you pass You’d look at me — that’s all ! ”

But no one, so far as my researches extend, has ever yet aspired to be his fair one’s cat, the object of so many tender and affectionate caresses.

But alas ! the cat has not always found admirers. Many have been its detractors. Buffon says some very disparaging things about it, and so does Cuvier. Chateaubriand (who was so noted for his devotion to the feline race that Pope Leo XII. presented him with his cat Micetto as a mark of esteem) was often compelled to maintain the cause of his favorites against the denunciations and aspersions of his learned friends ; while the academician Moncrieff was heartily ridiculed by his compeers for having allowed his partiality for these animals to betray him into publishing a book on cats. Songs, pamphlets, squibs, and epigrams were showered upon his devoted head, all satirising the “historian of cats.” In this attack Voltaire and Grimm were particu larly prominent.

I might prolong this article indefinitely by giving descriptions of the cat, its supple, graceful form, its many-colored furry skin, its velvety paws, in which lie concealed but ever ready for use its sharp claws, effective weapons of attack and defence. I might relate numerous anecdotes of its sagacity, or as some philosophers hold, intelligence ; its devotion to those who show it kindness, its maternal affection and care for its young, its usefulness in the household, and the various good qualities claimed for it by its admirers. But to what purpose ? Nothing I could add would increase the attachment of those who already befriend it ; while as to those who, like myself, have always had a prejudice against the race, I trust sufficient has been said to take away the sharp edge of that prejudice, and to induce a kindlier feeling for the poor little animal.

Jos. Winthrop Moses.

The Churches of London: A History and Description of the …, Volume 1 (Google Books)

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The Churches of London: A History and Description of the …, Volume 1
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The interior of the church is very peculiar, displaying a most inappropriate mixture of debased pointed architecture, or “Gothic,” and the Corinthian order ; but nevertheless possesses a certain degree of richness and picturesque beauty. It is divided into a nave and ailes by Corinthian columns and ornamented arches, which support a clere-story. On the walls of the latter at certain distances are pilasters, resting on corbels of mixed style, and from these spring ribs which form a groined ceiling of peculiar aspect, the details of which, however, are coarse and ugly, resulting apparently from an attempt on the part of the architect, either to restore a previously existing ceiling, or to modify the forms of pointed architecture, so that they might accord with those of the Italian style, with which latter he was evidently best acquainted. In panels formed at the intersections of the ribs appear the arms of the city and of various companies. The ceiling of the ailes is nearly similar. The windows in the clerestory and side ailes which light the church, are of the pointed style, and have peculiarly flat transoms, or heads, with two knees, or breaks in each, as represented in the engraving of the exterior. At the eastern end of the church, above the altar-piece, is a large square-headed window, the upper portion of which is formed by stone mullions into a Catherine wheel, shewn in the accompanying engraving, and is filled with stained glass of brilliant colours, but tasteless design.’ An inscription upon one part of this window, records that it was the gift of the Right Hon. Sir Samuel Stainier, knt. who was Lord Mayor of the City of London in the first year of the reign of King George I.

and Holy Ghost, I pronounce it holy;” then throwing dust from the ground into the air, he bowed to the chancel, and went in procession round the church.

St. Catherine, to whom the church is dedicated, was a Christian virgin who was persecuted in the 4th century for the principles which she professed. Legends say that she was placed between wheels, to which were fastened knives and sword blades, with the intent that she might be lacerated

It has been stated by some writer that this church was restored under the direction of the celebrated architect, Inigo Jones ;’ and although we have not found any authority for this assertion, we are led to believe from the appearance of the church, remembering too the period of its erection, that this must have been the case.?

Among the monuments in the present church are some few which were originally placed in the former building. The chief among them are, a full length recumbent figure beneath a canopy affixed to the south wall of the church, in memory of Sir Nicholas Throkmorton, (one of the Chamberlains of England, and ambassador to France from Queen Elizabeth,) who died in 1570; and a small tablet supported by two figures of monks inscribed to Bartholomei Ellnor, and executed at the commencement of the 17th century. The former is of marble, or alabaster, but is now painted stone colour; in the latter, the figures are deserving of notice. On the same side of the church as those last mentioned is a tablet to “Richard Spenser,” who “ after he had seen prodigious changes in the state, the dreadful tryvmps of death by pestilence, the astonishand crushed, to death ; but that the wheels miraculously broke asunder, and the knives being scattered, wounded her enemies. Whether this story be true or false the form of wheel to which she was fastened received her name in consequence. The name of the pyrotechnic toy known corruptly as a “ Cat and Wheel,” has this origin.

See “ London Churches,” list. of St. Bene’t’s, Paul’s Wharf, for some particulars of his life.

The length of the church is 90 feet : the breadth 51 feet, the height 37 feet. The height of the steeple is 75 feet. “ New View of London.” The Rev. J. J. Gelling, is the present Incumbent.

ing conflagration of the city by fire, piously lamented the misery, and then in peace and charity, in the faith of Christ, in communion of the church, he finished his course, and left behinde him a good name, a deare wife, a vertuous example, and three daughters.” This was in 1667.

Among the more modern memorials, the last erected is a neat tablet of. statuary marble in the south aile, commemorative of James Bridger, Esq.’

The annexed engraving represents the exterior of the building, and shews the range of windows which light the south aile, the old stone tower, (now covered with composition, and surmounted by an ugly circular turret, formed by Tuscan columns and a cupola,) and a curious gateway at the east end of the church, which leads to the yard, and was built by William Avenon, in 1631.

“The inscription is as follows;” Sacred to the memory of James Bridger, Esq. who departed this life the 15th of December 1836, in the 81st year of his age ; having been for 67 years an inhabitant of this parish. His remains are deposited in a family grave in the middle aisle of this church.”


How wonderful and enduring is the power of genius ! A barren knoll of earth, a rugged cliff, a dilapidated dwelling, associated with its works, become objects almost of reverence, and remain in the memory of men long after the hillock has been covered by a town, the rock has disappeared before the action of the sea, and the site of the old house is matter for antiquarian dispute. Who for example can walk in Eastcheap, near which stands the church represented in the following engraving, without seeking for the “Boar’s Head” tavern, where, in the “Dolphin ” Chamber, Shakspeare assembled the careless, but noble, Prince Henry, the sensual, weak, but merry Falstaff, witty Poins, and blustering Pistol At the time when these meetings are supposed to occur, namely at the commencement of the 15th century, there was no tavern in Eastcheap, but it was noted as the residence of cooks, and such as sold meats ready dressed,” and was resorted to by those who desired to dine or sup. Stow mentions a tumult which was caused in 1410, by the retainers of Thomas and John, sons of King Henry IV, while their masters were regaling there ; and it is not improbable that this circumstance in conjunction with the known character of Eastcheap, may have induced the dramatist to adopt that locality for the merry-makings of Prince Henry and the jovial knight. Eastcheap was so called from the market which was kept there for the east part of the city; the Saxon word “cheap” signifying a market. Some, indeed, have supposed that it was one of the first established in London during the dominion of the Romans, inasmuch as it was near to the ferry over the Thames. A Roman roadway passed through it; and during the excavations which were made for the purpose of forming the approaches to new London Bridge in 1831, two Roman wells, and a massive architectural fragment which was supposed to have been part of an architrave of a Roman building of some importance, were found among many other remains,

* This is confirmed by a curious, but often quoted ballad, called “London Lyckpeny,” which was written by Lidgate, a monk of Bury St. Edmunds, in the reign of Henry V. and purports to be the adventures of a countryman in London, who for lack of money was unable to obtain food, clothes, or justice. “Then I hyed me into Estchepe,

One cryes rybbs of befe and many a pye ;

Pewter pots they clattered on a heape,

There was harpe, pype, and mynstrelsye.”

Upon a house on the south side of Eastcheap, previous to recent altera

tions, there was a representation of a boar’s head, to indicate the site of the tavern ; but there is reason to believe that this was incorrectly placed, insomuch as by the books of St. Clement’s parish it appears to have been situated on the north side. It seems by a deed of trust which still remains, that the tavern belonged to this parish, and in the books about the year 1710, appears this entry; “Ordered that the churchwardens doe pay to the Rev. Mr. Pulleyn, £20. for four years due to him at Lady-day next, for one moyetee of the ground rent of a house formerly called the Boar’s Head, Eastcheap, near the George alehouse.” Again, too; we find, “August 18, 1714. An agreement was entered into with William Usborne, to grant him a lease for 46 years, from expiration of the then lease, of a brick messuage or tenement on the north side of Great Eastcheap, commonly known by the name of the Lamb and Perriwig, in the occupation of Joseph Lock, barber, and which was formerly known as the sign of the Boar’s Head.” For this extract we are indebted to Mr. John Sharp, one of the churchwardens.

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A Memoir of the Rev. James Marshall, Late Incumbent of Christ Church … (Google Books)

CHAMOUNI, August 11.

On Tuesday morning, we set out on rather a long journey for the Pass and Hospice of S. Bernard. This mountain is one of the great thoroughfares (if so homely an expression may be applied to the Alps) between ltaly and Switzerland. Multitudes go over it in summer; not a few even in winter; and at the Hospice is a Brotherhood of Augustine monks, who for centuries have extended their hospitalities to all travellers standing in need of it;

and have also made most meritorious efforts to rescue them from the dangers to which, in that dreary Pass, they are exposed. We can bear witness to the self-denial connected with such exertions. We have seen great variety of scenery, the wild, the beautiful, the romantic, the grand; but anything so savagely dreary as the Pass of S. Bernard we had not seen before. For some miles there is not a tree or a shrub, and in the vicinity of the Hospice there is no variety to the grey rocks of the mountains, but masses of snow. The view from it is that of the depth of winter. Not a green leaf is to be seen, the only symptom of summer we could discover being the “Forget-me-not.” In our ascent, we first lost sight of everything deserving the name of a tree; then of all shrubs, however stunted ; then even the Rose des Alpes deserted us; the harebell, the forgetme-not, and some wintry-looking grass being the only representatives of the vegetable kingdom. At last, the harebell forsook us also, the forget-me-not alone sticking by us to the last, evincing its hardiness by not only existing in solitary beauty, but by the deep azure blue, for which it is in this country so remarkable. Nor is it merely the scene at S. Bernard that resembles winter; the temperature does so also. For the last four miles I had on three coats, and yet I was shivering. After reaching the
Hospice, we tried to warm ourselves by walking, but the piercing wind very soon obliged mama to return. I went on to the Italian side of the Pass, but I could not get warm. And if such was the temperature of the Great S. Bernard in the beginning of August, what must it be in the winter, what even in early spring, or late in the autumn ! and what must be the situation of a traveller, overtaken amidst such cold and dreariness by a drifting snow-storm; when every vestige of the path must soon disappear, and wild despair be almost simultaneous with the occurrence of the disaster | Such travellers, it is one office of the monks of S. Bernard to rescue. They have dogs called the S. Bernard dogs, a peculiar breed, and remarkable for the intensity of their scent. With them they go forth, and with the help of those guides they speedily become aware of the existence of any travellers in peril, and are also assisted in their efforts to release them. Now, however much we may differ from these monks on many points of great importance, yet it would be the very intolerance of bigotry, not to appreciate such self-denying exertions. Under the influence of such appreciation, Mount S. Bernard is visited every summer by hundreds of travellers from all parts of the world; and from the time I had serious intentions of visiting Switzerland, I was desirous to become one of these travellers, and I am happy to say we very comfortably accomplished our object. We arrived at the Hospice about five o’clock, mounted on mules, the only animal that can carry the traveller in safety. Very speedily one of the monks, dressed in the full costume of his order, made his appearance, and in the politest manner bid us welcome. He conducted us up two pair of stairs, and shewed us into a bed-room, inquiring if there was anything we needed. We were both shivering with cold, and, I believe, if we had given an honest expression to our wishes, we should have begged a fire as our greatest necessity. We then went out to take a survey, and never shall I forget how, even in bright sunshine, grim winter seemed to sit upon everything. We were scarcely outside the door when six of these noble dogs came leaping and caressing us, and certainly I never returned the caresses of dogs so heartily. The first place we happened to fall upon was, what is called the Morgue, a small house near the Hospice. The S. Bernard monks are not always successful in their efforts to save. Before the body can be extricated from its bed of snow, life is sometimes extinct; and for long such bodies have been wont to be put into this Morgue. There are there skulls and bones, and there are also bodies (on account of the lowness of the temperature) in a remarkable state of preservation,

their clothes still hanging about them, and their countenances retaining a remarkable amount of expression. After this, we took the walk so speedily ended by the cold. We returned to the Hospice, and in one of the corridors met the monk who received us on our arrival, and were conducted by him to the chapel. There is much in it that is interesting ; there is some very old carving in the stalls, and there is a splendid piece of statuary, erected by Bonaparte, in remembrance of one of his generals who fell in the battle of Marengo. But the beauty of all Roman Catholic churches is to me so much marred by the tinsel ornaments that are about their altars, and the gaudy dresses with which the Virgin Mary is attired; and, I am sorry to say, the chapel of S. Bernard forms no exception to this rule. We were now very hungry. Half-past six is the usual hour of dinner, but some parties arriving late, we did not get it till after seven o’clock. When it was served, it was found in every respect most excellent. We spent as pleasant an evening as people who were tired, and strangers to each other, could do. One of the monks played on a piano, which a lady some time ago sent them as a present, and sung very nicely; and soon after ten o’clock we were in bed, where we found it as difficult to get warm, and to keep warm, as on a frosty night in December.

The service at the chapel commencing at six o’clock in the morning, we were there at that hour and heard Mass performed. The whole body of monks being present, made the service very imposing; and the music was fine. Still how entirely it was a spectacle, a thing to be looked at, without any mental accompaniment on the part of the people being even intended, was manifest from the fact, that Mass was saying at three different altars at the same time; at the high altar, at the Virgin Mary’s, and at S. Bernard’s. We breakfasted at seven o’clock, deposited our contribution in the box of the chapel, and by eight we were on our mules.

On our way back to Martigny, I could not but feel it would be well if something of the devotedness of the monks of S. Bernard to their particular calling, were manifested by their brethren in the valleys, in seeking to elevate even the physical condition of the people.

The Church Herald, Volume 1, Issue 1 (Google Books)



Sir,—The deputation appointed at Sion College to see the Bishops of London. Winchester, and Rochester relative to the holding of another Mission in London, have received the following reply from their Lordships in answer to their communications to them on the subject:—

Although we are of opinion that such efforts as the “TwelveDays’ Mission” can be useful, or indeed justifiable, only when exceptional and rare, yet, considering that the Mission of 1869 was confessedly tentative, that there is adequate testimony to its beneficial effects, and that many Incumbents, convinced of its utility, are very anxious to make a similar effort in their own parishes, we shall be glad to encourage the holding of Mission Services in 1871 on the following conditions:—

1. That no religious Services shall be used in Church other than those which are contained in the Prayer Book, or consist of the very words of Scripture.

2. That no ritual shall be used in any Church in excess of, or in addition to, the ordinary ritual of such Church; and in particular that no unauthorised form be introduced as a renewal of the baptismal vow.

3. That, although every facility should be given for personal and private communications with the Clergy to those who are troubled in conscience, or who require further comfort, counsel, or instruction, these Services shall not be made the occasion of recommending the practice of habitual confession to the Priest as a duty of the Christian life.

To consider what shall be done in consequence of this, I propose to invite the Clergy of the metropolis to meet at Sion College on some day hereafter to be named. It will probably be about the end of October, as by that time most of the Clergy will be again at their posts.

Your obedient servant, Robert Greoort,

Lambeth, Aug. .”>, 1870. Chairman of the Committee.

suppose that the remarks of “M. D. A.” are the faithful expression of the feeling on this subject in the Catholic Church. Dr. Lee, in his few fitting words, has so clearly demonstrated the contumaciousness of Mr. Bennett in not appearing before the Arches Court, that no more need be said on that point; it is with regard to that gentleman’s conduct towards the Privy Council that I write to oppose the suggestions of “M. D. A.” The latter advises Mr. Bennett to appear before that tribunal—for five reasons, which should be carefully noticed, namely:

1. To avoid “the appearance of running away.”

2. To “gain more respect from the outsiders!”

3. To “win more adherents.”

i. To “render the chance of a concocted and sinister judgment but a poor one.”

5. To avoid causing damage to the Catholic cause.

Out of these five reasons four are utterly contemptible, the last only is well intentioned, but it is founded on a mistaken idea of what the Catholic cause is. As far as one can judge from the letter before me, “M. D. A.” considers that cause to consist in risking its divine and incontrovertible position on the chance of securing a favourable judgment from an incompetent and unjust tribunal, the argument seeming to proceed in this wise—To get a fair hearing before the Judicial Committee you must appear. Not to get a fair hearing would damage the cause; therefore you are morally bound to appear. As I am only assuming, on the strength of my common sense, that this is the argument which “M. D. A. ” proposes, and as I may be wrong I will not stay to consider the fallacies which it contains, but I assert without hesitation that the conclusion, which is certainly that of your correspondent, cannot be justified by any premises whatever, and this I believe to be the opinion of the Catholic party generally. The authority of the Privy Council in spiritual matters is a legal fiction, possessing no moral or religious justification whatever; the obligation to appear before it is consequently a technical one, and in no sense a moral one: in fact, if there is any moral obligation at all it is decidedly in favour of letting judgment go by default. I contend that the only tcnablo position for Catholics to adopt is to accept as binding all decisions of the Arches Court, and wholly to ignore those of the Court above. Here they would stand upon intelligible ground, whereas if no authority whatever is acknowledged but the private opinion or conscience of the individual, the position assumed is ludicrous and illogical. Assuming the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council to be wholly unbiassed, which is notoriously not the case; and, moreover, skilled in ecclesiastical law, of which it knows absolutely nothing—its decisions would not be a whit more binding on Churchmen than they are under present circumstances.

It has no moral jurisdiction, therefore Catholics need not blush though it should proclaim as law the most pernicious heresies which infest Christianity, and any advantage to the cause we all have at heart would be purchased most unworthily by a tacit recognition of its usurped authority. So much for reason No. 5; as to the first four, is it worth while trespassing on your space, so liberally afforded to your numerous correspondents, to expose the evils which they support and encourage? What does it matter if we “appear ” to run away, if we are conscious of doing our duty? What is “the respect of outsiders”—that is, I presume, those who do “not confess and practise the Catholic Faith—worth compared to the approval of our Master? And is it likely that He will bring “adherents” to His Church through so unworthy a means as truckling to an authority which we know He would despise? A “concocted and sinister judgment” is all we may expect from the Committee at any time; we know from its composition that the condemnation of Ritualism and Catholic doctrine is a foregone conclusion with its members, which, together with our knowledge of its lack of authority over the Church of Christ, should make us supremely indifferent to its decisions whatever they may be. Yours, &&,

J. Harry Buchanan, MA.

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THE ROMAN COUNCIL. Sir.—No doubt your readers will remember that quite recently in Convocation the Bishop of Gloucester, speaking of the Council of the Vatican, said that, on the subject of the Council, his Diocese manifested apathy and indifference. Well, I remember the Tablet last year noticing that three Masses had been said on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception in a Village Church in Gloucestershire for the intention of the Council: a Clergyman too in the same Diocese told me the other day that he remembered the Council at every Mass he said. No doubt at Clifton, Bristol, and other places the Council is not forgotten. At Frome I am informed there has been an additional Mass every Wednesday for the Council since December 8. P. K. Q.


Received with thanks from The Rev. J. B. White, £5; The Rev. A. W. F., £25; ditto, £1 13s.; F. Jones, Esq., £5; S. P., 10s.-, J. Davison, Esq., M.D., 12s.; Alfred Meadows, Esq., M.D., £1 Is.; Mrs. Hutchinson, £2; Mrs. Wright, 5s.; Miss Wright, 2s. Cd.; The Rev. Fr. Eliot, 10s.; Mrs. Denny, 2s.; Mrs. Gascoyne, os.; Mrs. Batty. Is.; E. J, Armytage, Esq., 5s.; also parcels of clothing, &c, from the Hon. Mrs.

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The Church Herald.

LONDON, AUGUST 10, 1870.

Thekk is at least no dearth of war news this week. With a suddenness which, though the constant characteristic of war, is never anticipated, and therefore always startles lookers on as belonging to the marvellous the whole aspect of the struggle between France and Prussia has become changed. Two rapid shiftings of the scenes and the first act of the drama is over. What does it reveal to us of the final issue of the play ? That the Prussian army is splendidly generalled and admirably led, that the French have been vacillating or at least indefinite in plan and tardy in action, is clear. But these are the early days of the war and there is time to leam. The issue of the struggle will depend on the valour and determination of the respective nations, and nothing has yet occurred to show one a whit inferior to the other. Indeed, the spirit in which the disastrous news has been received in Paris shows that it will be hard to beat the French people. It shows, also, that there is willingness still to trust the Emperor. The Times, of course, with the low-bred meanness which distinguishes that leader of public opinion, has been preparing for what it deems the imminent duty of kicking the Emperor when he is down, by a preliminary lunge or two by way of upsetting him. But the present may prove no exception to the rule, that the Times is always wrong in its political forecasts. In any case, we may infer from the First Act that the Drama is likely to be a long one.

As the Parliamentary Session draws to a close there are, of course, numerous Bills withdrawn. We greatly regret that the Lectionary Bill is one of these. That Parliament should withhold its sanction from the Table of Lessons drawn up by a Commission of Churchmen, in which the Bishops had so much power that Convocation accepted almost without discussing the revised Lectionary, is a state of matters far from honourable to the Church, or creditable to those Churchmen who aided in bringing it about. One satisfaction there is, that the delay will give time for many worthy Priests, who now stand in doubt, to convince themselves of the wisdom of the great majority of the changes proposed. The practical benefit of shorter Lessons and of having an arrangement by which, when Evensong is twice used, the Lessons may be varied, must soon be seen j and such changes as the substitution

of the Death of Abel as the first Lesson on St. Stephen’s Day for a chapter from Ecclesiastes, and for St. John the Evangelist, Moses’ vision of God instead of the fourth chapter of Proverbs, have only to be known to be approved.

On Thursday, the Ecclesiastical Titles Bill Eepeal Act passed the second reading in the House of Commons, with amendments, however, contrary to an understanding between certain Peers and the Government. As a consequence the Bill has been subsequently withdrawn. On Thursday, also, the Commons accepted, with a few verbal improvements, the Lords’ amendments on the Education Bill, excepting that they insisted on preserving to the School Board the power, if they thought it needful, to establish free schools. The Bill will, therefore, pass in its present form into law, but we cannot appreciate highly Mr. Cowper Temple’s laudation of the successes achieved in its improvement by the National Union. At the meeting for its dissolution he discoursed, after the manner of the Whigs, on the excellent measure which their exertions had obtained, through the improvements which the Union had effected. We incline to the opinion of Sir W. Denison and Mr. J. G. Talbot, and have all along held that the Union injured most seriously the Church’s cause by the ready acceptance they gave to Radical amendments which practically cut away the firm ground from under the feet of the Clergy, who now will find themselves in a quagmire of uncertain depth, not knowing whether they can have their schools to themselves as in time past, or may at any time be rated for the support of some secular school intended only for the gratification of a few political Dissenters living miles away.

On Monday the Lords’amendments to the Census Bill, adding a voluntary return as to religious belief, came before the Commons. The amendment was disagreed from a majority of 61. On the same day the Judicial Committee Bill was withdrawn in deference to the opposition it had excited. The Clerical Disabilities Bill has, as we anticipated, passed without further opposition, and, in all probability, will become 13W during the present month, affording a fresh opportunity for those who deny the indelibility of Holy Orders to blaspheme. The Act, which has passed through several stages, under the title of the Irish Marriage Law Amendment Bill, is one of those measures of scanty justice to Ireland which, it iB sad to find, have only been produced by the dire necessity arising from the infamous disestabbshment of the Church last Session.

There are very dreaded symptoms now that, however welcome to the Radicals the present Ministry were when they talked of e conomy, and starved our poor people, and the Services in the days of peace, now that war has begun, there is a profound mistrust of the glib assurances they give that all is in most efficient order and prepared for any emergency, though our ships are without stores, artillery and cavalry in need both of horses and men, the line regiments mere skeletons, and the Militia and Volunteers practically without arms. The Times plainly says that a Tory Ministry is the only one to be trusted to carry the country honourably and well through a time of war, and the Saturday Eevieiv reflects severely on Mr. Gladstone’s shortcoming in refusing information on Monday which Lord Granville freely afforded on Tuesday. The writer says one of two explanations must be right. Either Mr. Gladstone is unable to form a policy for a single day in advance, or there is very serious difference of opinion in the Cabinet. One comfort there is, the Government have been fairly compelled to belie their false assurances of everything being in the highest perfection, and are really making some exertion, though at the present rate we shall probably hardly have recovered from their pullingto pieces, starving treatment before the spring comes.

Two Prelates last week gave publicity to letters which they had written. In the one case, the Bishop of Gloucester and Bristol, on whom rests tbe chief infamy of profaning the Hoi) Eucharist in Westminster Abbey, inasmuch as he, being Chairman of the Company, is said to have invited the communicants, furnished a quibbling apology in reply to a manly remonstrance from a Priest of his Diocese. That he should find it difficult to apologise for himself does not surprise us, but it does produce both surprise and regret that a Prelate, not utterly callous to all first principles of religion, should think a defence, instead of an expression of deep remorse and contrition, the fitting utterance at such a time. The other Episcopal deliverance is widely different. It comes from Archbishop Tait, and is addressed to General Tate. The Archbishop writes in defence of his order against a charge of supineness brought against them by a pack of ill-conditioned petty tradesmen and adulterous winebibbers at Portsmouth, who, not content with the dense heathenism in which they themselves luxuriate, desire to put a stop to the Services with which the Christians miles off from them, at Wymering and Westbourne, worship God. Their whole character is so low, and the petition emanating, as it does, from men who profess the highest regard for liberty of conscience, so utterly unreasonable, that we should not have taken any note of it, but that the Archbishop touches on some points in reply which are worth noting. Firstly, he, notwithstanding the notorious apathy of the Bishops, stoutly denies that they are not fully alive to all that is going on. Then, after expressing, in a sentence of very doubtful grammar, his appreciation of the late Archbishop’s remarks on the point of ritual, he proceeds to inform his correspondent that English Priests are not to be arbitrarily dealt with, like Roman ones or Dissenting preachers, a fact which he rejoices in. This we beg our readers particularly to note. Some ten years ago the same Prelate, as Bishop of London, did his utmost, without regard to law or justice, to crush Mr. Poole, and soon after attained an evil notoriety by a series of sham monitions with which he was in the habit of harassing the unhappy Bector of St. George’s-in-the-East, sending them late on Saturday night, apparently in the hope that he might be entrapped into thinking that they really possessed the legal power which was simulated in them. It is matter for hearty congratulation that the Archbishop has, at least, so far seen the error he committed as to rejoice that our Clergy have the power to withstand Episcopal tyranny of this sort.

We learn on good authority that the Bishopric of Edinburgh has been offered to Bishop Cotterill, of Grahainstown, and that he will probably accept it.

It is said in well-informed R.C circles that Archbishop Manning—for obvious reasons—refuses the Cardinal’s Hat, which the Pope has expressed his intention of offering to him in the autumn.

The Archbishop of Canterbury has, we are glad to see, recommended that special prayer for peace should be made. The form which he has put forth for the purpose, and which we give in another column, it very much what might be expected from a Scotch Presbyterian.

The Very Bev. J. H. Newman recently paid a visit to his old friend the Bev. K. W. Church, at the Rectory House, Whatley, Somersetshire. By some this visit, combined with other facts, is believed to indicate a movement of importance amongst certain Anglo-Roman converts.

We rejoice to hear, on the authority of fu0 Vicar of All Saints’, Lambeth, that Archdeacon Denison js j^ter. and that he may probably

be able in a little time to put his /oo{ God completely restore him to work *>nce

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The Services in connection with the foundation of the AP.U.C. on the Tth of September will this year be held at St. Peter’s, London Docks. There will also be the usual Services at All Saints’, Lambeth, on the 7th and 8th of September. The Preachers will be distinguished Clerics.

It is stated that the Pope has passed over the three names forwarded by the Chapter of Southwavk for the vacant Bishopric of that K. C. Diocese; that Dr. Weathers’ claims have been set aside, and that the Editor and proprietor of the Tablet is to succeed Dr. Grant.

A Wurtemberg newspaper states that “the Rev. Canon Liddon, of London, has had a long interview with Professor Dollinger, at Munich, on behalf of the Church of England, in which interview the influence of the new-created dogma on German Catholics and English Churchmen was discussed, and plans for combined action between the Churches sketched out.”


The Rev. William Kyton Andrews, to the Rectory of Harlington. The Hov. Augustus Baker, to the Rectory of Naunton Rcauchamp, Worcester. The Rev. Robert Bellis, to the Incumbency of All Saints’. Jersey. The Rev. John Brass, to the Curacy of St. Saviour’s. Eastbourne, Sussex. Tbe Rev. J. C. Connolly, to tbe Vicarage of Brooke, Norfolk. The Rev. Richard Jones, to tbe Chaplaincy of Marston Chapel, Hall Green, near Birmingham.

The Rev. J. R. McDowell, to the Rectory of Charlcombe.

The Rev. O. Hollingworth, to tho Rectory of tlollingtou, Sussex.

The Rev. W. A. Newton, to the Curacy of St. John. Notttng-hiU.

The Rev. William NuttalJ. to the Vicarage of St. John tho Baptist, Manchester.

The Rev. Henry A. Olivier, to tbe Rectory of Havant.

Tbe Rev. Canon Perowne. to tho Rectory of Llandytilio, Oswestry.

The Rev. Thomas Piggolt, to the Curacy of St. John, Upper Holloway.

The Rev. J. B. Sbattock, to the Curacy of Henstridge.

The Hon. and Rc-v. Algernon Charles Stanley, to the Curacy of St. Mary, Soho.
The Rev. Charles Henry Stewart, to the Curacy of All Saints’, Newington.
The Rev. J. H. Snowden, to the Incumbency of Christ Churoh. Woburu-square.
The Rev. W. H. Strong, to the Curacy of Ashby-de-la-Zouch-cum-Blackfordby.
The Rev. E. J. H. Vandeerlin. to the Curacy of Whittlebury-cum-Silverstoue.
The Rev. R. W. Whelan. to the Rectory* and Prebendary of Clonmetbam.
The Rev. W. Willey. to tho Rectory of Ridlington, Rutlandnhire.
The Rev. Q. W. Warr. to tho Vicarage of ChiidwaU, Lancashire.


July 29, at Hoxton, the Rev. James John Pickford, M.A., aged 37, Curate of St. John’s, Hoxton.

July 29. at Llandefaelog Rectory, near Brecon, the Rov. Thomas Butterfill Hosken. aged 39.

July 30, tho Bev. W. R. Davies, M.A., Vicar of Radford Semele. Leamington. July 31, at Bath, the Kev. Thomas Whitehead CorkelL M.A.. Oxon. July 31, at tho Rectory, Bromeswell, Suffolk, the Rev. Robert Henry King, Rector of that parish. Aug. 4, at the Vicarage, Dorking, the Rev. W. H. Joyce.

Aug. 4, at Rose-hill, Tunbridge-Wells, the Rev. Frederick Charles Allfroo, M.A. Aug. 4, the Rev. George Chelwode, llfty-four years Vicar of Ashton-under-Lyuo, aged 79.

ixBomt avOj foreign Cfjurrf) Xctos,

The Bishop of Honolulu has arrived in England.

The Archdeacon of Chester is suffering from paralysis.

Evening Communions have been discontinued at St. James-the-Less, Westminster.

On the afternoon of Tuesday in last week the Archbishop of York consecrated a new Church and Burial Ground at Newton, near Pickering Another City Church is to be demolished. Tho freehold site of St. Mary Somerset, Upper Thames-street, has been sold for 10,200/.

The Bishop of Ripon has consecrated a Church at Halifax. It is dedicated to St. Mary, and was built at the cost of Mr. Michael Stock.

We are requested to state that the Bishop of London will not be able to receive his Clergy at London House until further notice.

It is said that the Bishop of Hereford has inhibited the Rev. Luke Rivington from officiating in his Diocese.

The Church Times says that a fresh prosecution has been commenced against Mr. Mackonochie.

We regret to record the death of the Rev. W. Joyce, Vicar of Dorking, after months of extreme suffering. He was obliged some short time ago to have his tongue cut out owing to a cancer.

The Parish Church of Kidderminster has been restored and reopened. The Sermon was preached by the Bishop of Rochester, who was formerly the Vicar.

The Fishmongers’ Company have promised 2,000/. towards the St. Paul’s Cathedral Fund on condition that the Fund be raised to 100,000/. by the 31st of December, 1871.

The Rev. Dr. Hessey, Head Master of Merchant Taylors’ School, has been appointed Boyle Lecturer, in succession to the Rev. Stanley Leathes.

The Dean of Westminster having left town for a few weeks, all applications in connection with the Abbey are to be addressed to the Canon in Residence.

The large Cathedral in Trondhjem, Norway, is to be repaired at an expense of £100.000/. It is one of the finest buildings in Scandinavia, and dates back to the 12th century.

On Saturday, the elegant Cathedral-like Church of St. Mark. SandTingham-road, West Hackney, was consecrated by the Bishop of London in the presence of a crowded congregation.

The ancient Church of Arksey, near Doncaster, after a carefnl restoration, was reopened last Friday, by the Archbishop of York. On the following Sunday the choir were vested in surplices for the first time.

The Vicarage of Ashton-under-Lyne, which is worth about £l..ri00 ayear, has become vacant by the death of the Rev. George Chetwode, who has held it fifty-four years. The nomination of a successor rests with the Earl of Stamford and Warrington.

The John Bull says that a layman of the Diocese of Gloucester and Bristol has offered to the Bishop a sum of £1,000 towards a fund for meeting at once any educational needs that may exist in the Diocese. The donor has required that the offering be strictly anonymous.

In the Parish Church of Littlebury, Saffron Walden. Essex, is a brass of a Priest in full eucharistic vestments, holding the chalice and wafer. Anyone wishing for a copy can be supplied with one on sending Is 7d. in stamps to the Bev. B. H. Wis, at the above address. The money thus collected will be given to the Church Bestoration Fund.

Efforts are being made to renew the Church’s influence in the parish of St. Luke, Lower Norwood. The sum of £3,000 has been collected towards the restoration of the Parish Church, a Mission station has been opened in the parish, and an iron Church has been procured in which to hold Service during tho alterations in the Church.

The Bishop of Bangor has opened a Mission Chapel at Rhos-Lesen. in the parish of Llangelynin. The Bishop preached morning and afternoon, once in Welsh and once in English, and in the evening, Evensong was sung in Welsh in the open air. the numbers being too great to get into the Chapel. A lay reader will be in charge of the Chapel.

On Thursday and Friday the Bishop of Gloucester and Bristol received the Archdeacons and Rural Deans of his Diocese at the Palace, Gloucester. The subjects discussed were the working out of the Education Measure, the recent proposals connected with Parochial Councils, and Home Reunion.

To-day (Wednesday), St. Lawrence Day, the Feast of the Dedication of St. Lawrence Church, Jewry, is being observed with the following Services:—7.30 a.m.. Holy Communion; 1.16 p.m., Te Deum, and Sermon by Rev. R. R. Bristow, M.A.; 8 p.m.. Evensong, and Sermon by Rev. Canon Gregory, M.A. Offertory for St. Paul’s Cathedral Fund.

At a large meeting of the Committee of the National Society, held on Wednesday, it was unanimously resolved to issue a special appeal for funds to enable the Committee to make exceptionally large grants towards the erection of schools in destitute localities, and to assist in providing additional accommodation, where necessary, in populous districts. The Society is also concerting measures to ascertain in what way the religious teaching in Church schools may be most effectually and universally carried on.

Lord Lyttelton and Sir John Pakington have reported theresnltof their appeal to the Diocese for funds to complete the restoration of Worcester Cathedral, free of any conditions. They state that, including the contributions of the Earl of Dudley and the Dean and Chapter, the subscriptions promised amounted to nearly 10,000/. It has been decided to take the opinion of Mr. Gillert Scott and Mr. Perkins as to the jmprovement of the vaulting, and to proceed with oak carvings for the 8t*lls, seats, and canopies in the choir.

On Tuesday in last week, Canon Hornby, the newly-appointed Archdeacon of Lancaster delivered his first Charge. In alluding to the present position and prospects of the Church, he said it was not enough that it should be able to defend itself by arguments against all comers. The age asked for fruit, and if fruit was not forthcoming the cry would be heard, “Cut it down; why cumbereth it the ground?” To maintain the Church in the present position it was necessary that she should, by doing her appointed work, let it be seen and felt that there was a blessing in her.

A Church of England Hall is to be established in connection with Owen’s College, Manchester, under the auspices of Mr. Hugh Birley, MP. (Chairman), the Bishops of Manchester and Chichester, Mr. Murray Gladstone, and other gentlemen. Tho hall is designed for students of Owen’s College who are members of the Church of England, and such others as may be willing to conform to the regulations framed for its

government. The Rev. Evelyn J. Hone, M.A., of Wadham College, xford, Censor of King’s College, London, has been appointed Warden.

Another important step in the restoration of St. David’s Cathedral has been undertaken. The Committee appointed to superintend the restorations have determined at once to commence the rebuilding of the

roof and ceilings of the nave and aisles, postponing for the present the restoration of the pavement of the nave, also the west end and porch. The repairs of transepts and chapter-house have also to be postponed. Mr. Gilbert Scott estimates that about 8,000/. more will be required to complete the restorations, and an earnest appeal is now being made by the committee for further subscriptions to make up this amount.

The Bishop of Carlisle has written the following answer to an inquirer:—” Dear Sir,—In reply to your letter just received. I have to say that I do not receive, and do not intend to receive, any candidates for Confirmation except from my own Diocese, and that I recognise no other representative in Scotland of the Anglican Church than that which is commonly called the Episcopal Church in Scotland. At my last Ordination I ordained a Deacon from Scotland, but it was at the special request, and by letters dimissory from the Bishop of Argyll and the Isles.—Yours sincerely, Harvey Carlisle, July 26, 1870.”

We hear that not one person has sought leave to use the choir of St. Paul’s Cathedral for private devotion since the Dean and Chapter granted the favour. From the first we never supposed any man would have the nerve to ask one of the irreverent vergers of the Cathedral for leave to be permitted to pray. To be of any real good the Church should be open during tho three hours, the same as the Church of St. Lawrence, Jewry, is. There many business men may be seen saying their prayers.

We learn by the Cape mail, which arrived on Saturday, that the Transvaal Republic had extended liberty of worship to the Roman Catholics. Disturbances had occurred at Durban between the Rev. Mr. Robinson, Bishop Macrorie’s Minister, and the Churchwardens of St. Paul’s, relative to the right of the former to bury in that churchyard without the leave of the Churchwardens. Mr. Bobinson and the Churchwardens had given each other in charge of a policeman. The dispute was expected to come before the Supreme Court of Natal.

An Enniskillen correspondent reports that on Sunday last a demonstration in favour of the Curate of Irvinestown, the Bev. S. Evans, took place in the Parish Church. The Bev. Mr. Verschoyle, Rector, had served Mr. Evans with a notice to leave, which expired on the 31st ult. Mr. Evans went to discharge his duty as usual, but the Rector locked up the vestry and would not admit him. He also refused to admit any Churchwarden. During the Service there was perfect order, but on the Rector entering the pulpit, the congregation, numbering over six hundred persons, rose in a body and walked out. Mr. Evans, it appears, is willing to resign after the 1st of January, but not before, as he would in that case become disentitled to his annuity under the Church Act.

Tho clerk of the Parish Church at Achonry brought an action at the Galway Assizes against the Rev. Viscount Mountmorris, Dean of Achonry, and Rector of the Parish, for an assault and false imprisonment. Damages were laid at 700/. The plaintiff was in 18G6 appointed to his office. After several cautions to the plaintiff he was, with the sanction of the Bishop, dismissed in February last for neglect of his duties, but the Archdenjon of Tuam reinstated him in office. Defendant, however, refused to allow him to perform his duties, on the 20th March he directed the police to remove plaintiff from the pew. He denied having told them to arrest him, but admitted he might have told them to do their duty. The jury found for plaintiff 20/. damages.

A singular scene took place in Bangor Church on Thursday at the fnneral of a gentleman who was an Orangeman, and one of the officers of the Grand Lodge of the County Down. Most of the members of the order present wore their insignia. When they were in Church they were informed by the Incumbent that Orange emblems were not suitable at such a Service, and he declined to proceed until they were removed. Immediately all the Orangemen and many others present rose and left the Church, when the Service proceeded. The Orangemen then formed round tho grave of their deeeased brother, and it was discussed whether or not the Curate only would be permitted to conclude the Service to the exclusion of the Incumbent; but finally the Incumbent was allowed to finish the office.

The resolution on the Religious Censnsadoptedby the Burslem Wesleyan Conference is as follows :—” That, in the opinion of this committee, it is desirable to provide for the taking of a religious census throughout Great Britain in such form, and by responsible official enumerators as well as by the Ministers of the several denominations, as will show the actual accommodation in buildings provided by the sevoral religious bodies in Great Britain for purposes of religious worship, and the actual attendance at each public service in every such building on some Sunday to be appointed by Parliament.” The Conference also unanimously resolved that a petition embodying the principles of the resolution should be forthwith forwarded to the House of Lords. Lord Shaftesbury will probably be present.

On Saturday Lord George Hamilton, M.P., laid the foundation stone of a new Church at Hackney to be called Christ Church. After a short Service Lord George laid the stone “in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost.” The Church, which is to be built from the plans of Mr. Wiggington, the architect, will be of the middle pointed Gothic style of architecture, consisting of a nave, side aisles, and chanceL The edifice will have no side windows, but will be lighted by a fine window in the western gable and by three three-light windows in tho chance!, which will be apsidal. The roof will be open-timbered, and the building will be constructed of brick with stone ashlar work. In the chancel there is to be a sedilia of good character, and accommodation will be provided for 800 people. At the conclusion of the ceremony the whole party adjourned to the parish school-room, where they partook of an elegant dejeuner, at which the Rev. J. B. Lockwood occupied the chair.

Dean Stanley is certainly going in for popularity. Having admitted an Unitarian to Communion in the Abbey, he has now informed the Weslcyan Methodist Conference that he is prepared to admit within the Abbey a suitable monumental memorial of John and Charles Wesley. The ex-president, in making this announcement to the Conference now sitting at Burslein, said that considering the original associations of the Wesleys and of Methodism, such a memorial in the venerable structure which Dean Stanley had in his able and beautiful volume, recently published, shown to be the historic cabinet and key of England, from the Conquest and before, would be highly appropriate; and if the Conference would authorise himself and the President to provide such a memorial from among their friends in Methodism, he had no doubt that it would be cheerfully and loyally provided. The Conference expressed its grateful acquiescence in the proposal, and recommended the object to the friends of Methodism.

The Bishop of Lincoln has opened a new Church in the sequestered village of Gunby St. Peter’s, which lies near the Burgh station on the East Lincolnshire Eailway. The old Church, a plain whitewashed building, was erected about 1G34. This, after having undergone several alterations, was rapidly falling into decay, when in 1868 Mr. Fowler, of Louth, furnished a design which has been carried out at a cost of about £1,300. The only objects of interest belonging to the old Church which could be retained in the new were two valuable brasses, one of Judge Ladyngton, a Chief Justice of the time of Henry V., bearing the date of 14 lit; the other a palimpsest used to commemorate first a Thomas and afterwards a Sir Thomas Massingberd. The reopening Services commenced at 11.30, a procession of between 30 and 40 surpliced Clergy preceding the Bishop from the Hall. The Service was intoned by the Rev. T. Archbold, of the Middle School at Burgh, and the Bishop of Lincoln preached. Amongst the many special gifts a magnificent altar-cloth of rich crimson Utrecht velvet, with green silk frontal, bordered with perpendicular bands inwrought with white jleurs-de-Iii, is particularly deserving of mention.

The Rev. Frederick W. Greenstreet, of All Saints’, Winterboum Down, publishes a correspondence he has had with his Bishop respecting the recent admission of Revisionists to Holy Communion at Westminster Abbey. Mr. Greenstreet respectfully asks his Bishop whetheritis his Lordship’s wish that the example thus set in high places should be followed by the Clergy of theDiocese:—” In other words, shall we be henceforth j ustified in offering the Holy Eucharist to all who may present themselves at the altar, even though they may be professed disbelievers in the Divinity of Him whosemeritorious death we are there solemnly commemorating ? Iask your Lordship to pardon me for writing strongly, but I could not rest till I had disburdened my mind on this (to me) painful subject.” The Bishop of Gloucester and Bristol replied—”Rev. and dear Sir,—I hasten to reply to your note of this morning. 1. In regard of your first inquiry, let me refer you to my speech in Convocation, as reported in the Times of July 6th and the Quardianoi July 6th. I commend to your attention the judgments of the Bishops assembled. I am the chairman alluded to in the speech of the Lord Bishop of Winchester. 2. In regard of your second inquiry, I have only this to say: that in any individual cases actually occurring or expected to occur, about which doubt is entertained, reference should be made to the Ordinary. You are quite welcome to make any use you like of this letter.”

Archbishop Manning has sent a circular dated the 3rd of August to his Clergy, asking them to join with him in an act of thanksgiving for the many mercies of the last few months, and for the many memorable events by which they have been marked. He goes on to say “Although the Council of the Vatican is neither prorogued nor suspended, it has nevertheless completed a distinct period of its work. As I hope to lay before you as soon as may be a careful statement of its history and of its acts for the instruction of our flock, I refrain at this time from all details. The Catholic Church throughout the world is now uniting in thanksgiving for the good providence of God which has hitherto watched over the Council, and in intercession that the terrible scourges of war which are now impending over Christian Europe may be mercifully averted. I therefore request that until further notice is given you will add in all Masses the Collect, &c., for peace, and that on Sunday, the 14th inst., you will direct the Te Z)eum to be sung. And further, in your Sermons, while explaining to yoUx flock the motives of these acts of thanksgiving and intercession, jJ ,e k-jiown to them that the definitions of the Council require no oM, ‘a* v,jication than the solemn act by which the Holy Father has ah.’. (► Published them to the universal Church.” SfP

The Archbishop of Tori itj A’ cr3ted a Chnrch dedicated to St Stephen’s at Fylingdales. ?Jk .p&Zt,0rch at Fvlingdales, a small structure, but in a tohnblyj^ll (0 C* pair, had been long felt to be inconveniently situated lot hN^f pf&j{ the »nd Mr. Robert

Barry, therefore, resolved that he would take measures for having a new sacred edifice of more commodious dimensions, and built in the proper plsce. Mr. Barry selected a suitable site at a short distance from Thorp, and immediately adjoining the road. His project was seconded by the gentry of the district, who contributed handsome sums to the fund being raised for the building of the structure. Mr. G. E. Street, was engaged to carry out the work. The Church is a commanding building, substantially constructed of stone of a durable character. The style of architecture of the Church is the geometric Gothic, with a slight introduction of the German. The chancel is approached by two steps, and the sacrarium by three, and the flooring is very elegant, being composed of encaustic tiles of ecclesiastical pattern. The flooring of the nave and aisle is laid down with coloured tiles. The chancel arch is in three orders, and the nave arcade in two, the outer order in each case being moulded. The chancel is filled up with oak stalls and seats for the choir, and the sittings in the nave and aisle are open and of deal, stained and varnished. The lectern is placed at the entrance to the chancel. It is of ornamental brass and iron work, and has a pretty effect. The pulpit is of oak, and octagonal in shape, the panels being filled in with tracery. The reading desk, also of oak, immediately adjoins it.

Saturday, the Feast of the Transfiguration, was a great day of rejoicing at St. Mary’s, Prestbury, near Cheltenham, being the second anniversary of the re-opening of the old Church after its restoration. On Friday, the eve, after the midday Angelus had rung, the Church flag was hoisted, giving notice to all that a Festival had commenced. The flag may be best described in heraldic language—azure, and cross argent, whereon the monogram of Mary between four lilies gules. On the feast day there were celebrations of the B. Sacrament at six, seven, eight, ten, and eleven. At ten the children of the parish were present, and sang Eucharistic hymns, and after Service they were regaled with buns in the grounds of the Priory, adjoining the Church, the residence of the Rev. J. Edwards, sen. At eleveu the Service was a Missa Cantata, sung to the music of the De Ange/is Mass, with a Sermon by the Rev. R Randall, of All Saints’, Clifton. In the afternoon there was cricket and other games, and at four o’clock about 200 persons sat down to tea in the Priory grounds. Speeches were made by the Vicar, Rev. J. Skinner of Newland, and others. At 6.30 Vespers were sung, and after the Sermon a solemn Te Deum of thanksgiving was chanted, the altar being brilliantly illuminated. The Services were all very beautiful and well attended, the multitude of lights, the flowers, and incense, with the gorgeous vestments of the Celebrant Priest, making a very imposing function. The Collections were for a new organ, which is much needed.

The Bishop of Oxford preached on Wednesday in the ancient Church of Bampton, on the occasion of its being reopened, after restoration. In the north transept are two chapels, although the one on the east is generally called Horde’s Aisle, as it was formerly the burial place of a family of that name. Over the junction of the nave with the transepts the tower and spire are erected, the whole rising to a height of 150 feet. At the base of the spire platforms run from the interior which are supported by pediments. Ou these ore placed figures of four Apostles, and the whole presents a very peculiar appearance. In the interior, now that the ugly old high-backed pews are removed, and carved oaken benches substituted, the beauties of the place can be rightly appreciated. There are several brasses, and many memorials of the Horde family. In the northern transept is a recumbent figure of a knight in armour, but it is too much disfigured to be made out satisfactorily; and near and let into the wall are sculptured as on a screen the figures of our Saviour and the Twelve Apostles, and though the carving may be rudely executed, it is yet a fine specimen of the 15th century work; and in the southern transept is another recumbent figure, to the memory of George Thompson, who died in 1603, and bequeathed a sum of money to the poor parishioners. In the chapel or transept there are not fewer than five credence tables and piscinas. In the course of the restorations the clerestory has been removed, and the original pointed roof adopted. A large stone coffin was found in the Church whilst the workmen were digging, but there were no remains within it.

The Leighlin Diocesan Synod commenced its sittings on Tuesday, in Carlow. The proceedings, were commenced with a Celebration in the Parish Church, after which the Bishop of the united Diocese of Ossory, Ferns, and Leighlin read an elaborate address. “The Act which disendowed and disestablished (he said) at the same time gave, or rather restored, powers to the Archbishops, Bishops, Clergy, and Laity, of assembling in Convention—a freedom which was considerably curtailed by its union with the State. The vote by Orders, having been accepted and acted upon in the Convention, might be regarded as a settled law of the Church. By this means each of the three Orders had a safeguard against the other two Orders, and all laws of the Church must he accepted by a majority of each of the three Orders, but it was also provided that the Laity should exceed the Clergy in the proportion of two to one. He was well aware of the general feeling that existed amongst the Laity on this subject, nor did he wish to disturb the arrangement; but at the same time he would not conceal his own opinion or feeling upon the point. He could not but think that it was pregnant with evil consequences, as sounding the first note of distrust, and calculated to foster class interests, which it should be the object of every, true friend of the Church to keep out of view altogether. The Bishop then made

some remarks upon Mr. Portal’s “Manual of Prayer,” remarks which wc are sure our readers would not with to be troubled with.

If any of our readers should think of visiting Tunbridge Wells during the season, they may like to know that at St. James’s, a Church in the higher part of the town, there is a Daily Service, and on Sundays an Early Celebration of the Holy Communion, with a sreond at midday on the first and third in the month. On Saints’ Days there is a mid-day Celebration. The choir is surpliced, and the Service is choral on Sunday evenings.

The annual Church-rate battle in the Parish of St. Saviour’s. Southwark, took place last week. This year it has been somewhat intensified in consequence of a considerable increase in the rate, which is stated to be caused by various circumstances. In the first place, the Bishop of Winchester has written to the Churchwardens informing them that the Archdeacon has reported to him that on the occasion of his Visitation in May last he found the Church in various places in such a dilapidated condition that unless these dilapidations were speedily repaired the worst consequences would befall the building, and the Bishop therefore trusted that the parishioners would see to it that these repairs would at once be effected, and that they would not allow “the grand old fabric” to become a ruin. The carrying out of these repairs alone would have caused an increase in the rate, but since the fabric has received such injury from lightning during the storm two weeks ago as will take 600/. to repair it, what with the old dilapidations and the recent injuries the sum required amounts to 1354/. 10s. That is independent of the ordinary charges falling upon the Church rate, which this year are estimated at 1211/. 5s. Gd., so that the total amount chargeable upon the Church rate is 2565/. 15s. Gd. To meet that there is a sum in hand of 569/. 7s. 6d. which leaves the sum of 1A9G/. 8s. to be provided for by rate. To cover that amount the wardens propose a rate of fourpence in the pound, but at a stormy meeting on Monday night that proposition was meet by an amendment that the rate should be one penny in the pound. The larger amount was, however, carried by a majority after much talk, bnt a poll having been demanded by the defeated party, that proceeding took place on Wednesday at the board-room in the Borough Market, when, after a strong and vigorous contest, which lasted from eight o’clock in the morning till four in the afternoon, the larger amount was confirmed by a majority of 243 against 228. The chairman accordingly declared the fourpenny rate to be carried.

On the 28th, ult. the Rev. C. H. Travers, was publicly admitted to the Living of St. Giles, Reading, by the Bishop of Oxford, the Patron. The Bishop arrived at the Vicarage about four o’clock, ana was accompanied from thenco to the Parish Church by the late Vicar (the Rev. T. B. Fosbery), the Vicar-elect, and the Churchwardens, where they were met by some of the Clergy of the other Churches, the Curates of St. Giles, and the choir of St. Giles, and proceeded into the Church, where a large congregation was assembled. The Bishop took his seat at the north side of the altar, the Vicar-elect occupying a seat without the altar-rail. After Evensong, the Rev. C. H. Travers advanced to the altar-rail, and standing before the Bishop, who was then seated in front of the altar, read the usual declarations and took the customary oaths of canonical obedience, &c. He then knelt down while the Bishop read the instrument of collation, and pronounced over the newly appointed Vicar the Benediction. A pause ensued for the purpose of silent devotion, and the hymn Veiii Creator was sung. The Bishop then proceeded to the chancel-steps and delivered an earnest and appropriate address, setting forth the purposes of the solemn Service and ceremony which had been performed, and exhorting the congregation to hearty co-operation with their new pastor in the work of the Church of Christ. After the Service a large and influential meeting of the Parishoners, including the numerous staff of Churchworkers in the Parish, was held in St. Giles’s Hall, when the Bishop, iu a most impressive manner, pointed out to all present the object of such a gathering—its need, its gain, its strengthening influence on the Church’s life; alluding to the work already accomplished by the new Vicar in another portion of the Diocese, and calling on the inhabitants of St. Giles’s to help him, especially in the prospect of building a new Parish Church to replace the present dilapidated fabric. Several laymen, amongst whom was Mr. Hayman, father of the head master of Rugby, also spoke most warmly, and the Vicar wound up with a few remarks, in which he asked the hearty sympathy and earnest prayers of his new flock, that ho might be faithful to the responsible charge committed to him, and be enabled to carry on the many good work inaugurated by his predecessors.

A Mr. Binley, who describes himself as the Rector of a large parish in the north of England, has made a curious statement, in an Irish paper, to the effect that he was converted to Ritualism :—” I was called,” says Mr. Binley, “to attend a young woman who had been a model parishioner. She instructed a Bible-class for me. and was much and deservedly respected. Her name was Jane M’Fay. She had been some time coinplaining, and was now dying of that melancholy disease, decline. I endeavoured to console her as best as I could, telling her to come to Christ by faith, and that a firm confidence in the Saviour was sufficient to save her. ‘It is not,’ said she with animation, ‘sufficient to save ine, because it is not God’s appointed means. You have starved my soul by your false teuching. I have learned, I trust not too late, that the

channels of Divine grace are the Sacraments of tho Church, which you always have been studious to ridicule as Popish superstitions. Oh ! that I had my sins now blotted out by God’s appointed means—the Sacrament of Penance ; and I was nourished with the heavenly food, giving life eternal, without which God himself tells me I cannot have it. Oh ! that I was anointed with the holy oil in the Sacrament of Extreme Unction to quiet now my soul and renew my confidence in a good God. Begone,’ she continued, ‘and be consoled with this reflection, that my only hope of salvation is in my ignorance, brought about by your teaching; may God forgive you. Go, and do not further torture me by telling me of a God of Mercy whose mercies and forgiveness you have held back from me.’ I left; I could auswer nothing, for her words seemed to be dictated by the Supreme Being. Her words,’ You have starved my soul,’ made me tremble. I asked myself, did I; I could not answer ‘No.’ I begged of God light and then I got it. Jane M’Fay had spoken the truth—I found I had starved her soul by the modern teaching of the Church of England, and I became a Ritualist; and may the words of poor Jane M’Fay be heard when she said, ‘ May God forgive you;’ and may my words be heard too, ‘May God forgive and enlighten all men who would starve souls by the false teaching of the modern Church of England.'”

The Bishop of Chester has just consecrated a Church in the hamlet of Helsby, a township in the parish of Frodsham, Cheshire. The Bishop was met at the railway station by the Vicar, and conducted to the schoolroom, erected by the exertions of the late Vicar, the Rev. J. R. Hall, and hitherto licensed for Service. Here he was warmly greeted by a large number of neighbouring Clergy, met together to join in the Service of the day. It was full choral. The Bishop preached an earnest and practical Sermon. After Servico tho Bishop met the Clergy at luncheon in the schoolroom, where his work amongst his Clergy was gratefully acknowledged, and the same large room was afterwards thrice filled with the inhabitants of Helsby, who enjoyed an excellent tea, Evensong followed when Canon Barkley, Rural Dean, preached an admirable Sermon. The collections at both Services amounted to nearly G5/. The windows in the apse are the work of Messrs. Hardman, and represent the Nativity, the Crucifixion, and Resurrection; whilst another to the west of the Priest’s door is a Sacramental window, the subjeet being our Lord making Himself known to the Disciples at Emmaus. These are erected in memory of the late Edward Meyrick, of Windsor. Designs are already made’ for filling the rest of the windows, as they may be required for memorials: those on the south side with incidents of St. Peter’s life in connection with our Lord ; those on the north with events subsequent to His ascension.

On the 20th. ult. a very joyous day was spent in the parish of Metheringham, Lincolnshire, on the occasion of the reopening after restoration of the Church of St. Wilfrid. The Holy Communion was celebrated at nine o’clock, the Bishop-Suffragan of Nottingham being present, the Vicar celebrant. The Nunc Dimittis was sung as a recessional. At eleven o’clock the procession was formed in the Vicarage grounds by the choir (surpliced for the first time), and about thirty Clergy. A processional cross and banners were carried by the choir, and “a second cross was borne by the Rev. E. Lowe before the Vicar and his Bishop. The circuit was made through the town, singing Hymns Ancient and Modem, 384, 3S5, 38G, on their way to the Church. An excellent Sermon was preached by Bishop Mackenzie, on Joshua iv. G—” What mean ye by these stones ?” Then a large party of friend? was hospitably entertained at luncheon by the Vicar; and at three o’clock the Litany was sung, and the Bishop, sitting near the chancel-step, addressed some loving, fatherly words to the school on “the children crying in the Temple, “Hosanna to the Son of David.” Then followed a” public tea —(while the little ones were being feasted in another place)—realising more than 15/. for a new organ. The evening preacher was the Rev. R. Giles, Vicar of Homcastle. There were very pretty floral decorations, especially on the font, chancel, screen, and the new aisle—the sanctuary was bright with coloured walls and roof—the altar, decked with candles, cross, six vases of flowers, and new frontals and dossal.

A Catholic Emigration Scheme.—The Rev. James Nugent, Roman Catholic Chaplain of the Liverpool Borough Gaol, whose efforts in the cause of practical philanthropy have already resulted in the establishment of a Refuge for Destitute Boys, which at present provides food, clothing, education, and profitable employment for GG1 poor lads, and has rescued hundreds of others from a life of pauperism or crime, is projecting a plan for the emigration of the most unfortunate classes of the juvenile population to Canada and the States. Miss Rye and other devoted labourers in this field of benevolence cannot see their way to taking charge of or assisting any but Protestant persons, however destitute or deserving; and Mr. Nugent has determined upon a journey across the Atlantic with the object of establishing nn organisation for the reception and employment of such children as those whose welfare he has especially at heart. At a gathering held in Liverpool on Tuesday he avowed himself anxious to puisue his undertaking without sectarian exclusiveness; but it is evident that his primary efforts must be in the interest of the young poor of tho Roman Catholic community. A very large proportion of the population of Liverpool being Irish of theloweBt class, the Catholic gaol Chaplain has been deeply impressed with the growing danger to society at large which arises from the rapid and unchecked increase of the criminal and vicious youth of both sexes. The object of his mission must commend itself to all who consider the temptations to which destitute orphans, and homeless children are exposed, and the enormous injury and cost their wants of training causes to the better classes. It is to be hoped that, both here and in America, Father Nugent will find encouragement ana substantial support, such as will enable him to carry his project to a practical and successful issue. As at present arranged, he will leave this country on the lt<th inst.

Refusal To Consecrate.—A very beautiful new Church, designed by Mr. George Edmund Street, A.R.A.. has been built at Thixendale-on-the-Wolds, East Riding, at the sole cost of Sir Tatton Sykes. The edifice has been ready for consecration for fully six months, but from certain causes disappointment has resulted on the two occasions fixed for the ceremony. It was first announced that the consecration would be performed on the 1th of April last, and every preparation was made, when on the previous Saturday only it was stated the Archbishop would not consecrate in consequence of some informality in the deed of conveyance. Rumour at that time said all was not quite right in the chancel. The ceremony was again fixed, but early last week it was intimated to the founder that unless the “superaltar” were altered the consecration could not be performed. To this it is understood Sir Tatton Sykes declined to accede, and there will be another postponement sine die. The super-altar is a shelf-like slab of red marble, supported at each end by jambs of Caen stone. The oaken communion table is partly overhung by this slab, which is walled iuto the base of an elaborately panelled reredos of Caen stone and Devonian marble, of which it is really a part. This, it is alleged, was shown in the drawings of the Church which were submitted to the Archbishop. In this difficulty the architect has been sent for, Sir Tatton Sykes refusing to permit any alteration without his sanction, and the Church remains still useless.

The Archbishop Of Canterbury Axd The War.—The following has been addressed to the Bishop of London, as Dean of the Province, by the Archbishop of Canterbury :—

“Aldington Park, Croydon, August J, 1S70.

“My dear Bishop of London,—I have consulted some of those who, with myself, have authority in the matter of advising the Queen to issue, in reference to the present war, a public form of prayer, which, according to usage, would be drawn up by myself, as Archbishop of Canterbury, and be sent forth with the sanction of Her Majesty’s Privy Council.

“As at present advised, I find that the precedents are against the issuing of such a form while the United Kingdom and the rest of Her Majesty’s uominions are mercifully preserved from any participation in the war. In common, however, with yourself and all others with whom I have conferred on the subject, I feel that in prospect of the miseries now threatening two great nations, with which our country is most intimately connected, the English people are bound to present their supplications to God for the restoration of peace.

•• I have, therefore, resolved to follow the ancient constitutional course in such matters, and to request you, as Dean of the Province of Canterbury, to communicate to our brethren, the Bishops of the Province, my earnest hope that they may be able to encourage their people to be instant in prayor to God during the prevalence of the present calamity which overshadows Europe. The usual public prayers of our Church are so worded as to embrace within our ordinary petitions an earnest supplication to be saved from the evils of such an emergency as the present; and I sincerely trust that everywhere throughout England our people will not fail thus generally in their public Services in Church, as well as more particularly in their family and private devotions, to pray God, for the Lord Jesus Christ’s sake, to save Europe from the calamities which now hang over the civilised world.

‘• I return the form of prayer, which by mutual consultation you and I have agreed to recommend as a help to the private devotions of our people.—I am, my dear Bishop of London, your faithful brother and servant, “A. C. Cantuar.

“‘0, Almighty God, King of all Kings, Whose power no creature is able to resist, to whom it belongeth justly to punish sinners, and to be merciful to them that truly repent, assuage, we beseech Thee, the horrors of this war, which Thou hast permitted to break forth in Europe; restrain the passions of the combatants; inspire the conquerors with mercy, and the vanquished with submission to Thy will; give patience to all who suffer ; prepare for Thy summons those who are called to die, and set to this warfare bounds which it may not pass. Wo pray Thee, 0 God, speedily grant peace to the nations,and so overrule, in Thy good providence, the course of all events, that our present anxieties may end in the spread of righteousness, enlightenment, and true liberty, and thus Thy kingdom may at last be established upon earth. And this we pray through the merits and mediation of Jesas Christ. our Lord and Saviour, the Prince of Peace.—Amen.'”

Protest Against The Recent Q< Q$ In Westminster Abbey.

—The following has been publishe<y>bhffft’

III 0? .’ ^rrace, W., July 28, 1S70.

My dear Lord Bishop,—I 4. «/L ^’.f& honour to forward you a memorial relative to the Westmias?),y£0 Communion from ninetyone Priests in your Lordship’s % \ / ‘y , whom hnl’d positions and bear characters whici mmt eflfo SM’ vv~tf ” % thin], ,\AY sav, that


within the ten years during which I have ministered in this Diocese, I do not remember anything that has more deeply distnrbed the Clergy of this Diocese than this act of Dean Stanley’s and the manner in which it was treated in the Upper House of Convocation.

If your Lordship will say something to alay the distress of your memorialists, and of the many other Clergy of your Diocese, who feel deeply in this matter, but who for various reasons of their own have not signed this memorial, they will feel truly grateful to you.

As this is a matter of public interest, perhaps you will kindly allow me to make public for the benefit of all interested herein, any nnswer you may see fit to send me.

I am, your Lordship’s faithful servant in Christ, The Bishop of London. Richard J. West.

To the Right Rev. the Lord Bishop of Loudon. “We, the undersigned Priests of your Lordship’s Diocese, beg respectfully to draw your Lordship’s attention to the statement made in the public journals that at the first meeting of the New Testament Company for the revision of the Holy Scriptures, the whole Company, including Presbyterians. Baptists, and a Unitarian, partook of the Holy Communion in Westminster Abbey at the hands of the Dean, each of them having received a circular giving notice of the intended celebration. Now, inasmuch as the Rubric directs that ‘there shall none be admitted to the Holy Communion until such time as he be confirmed, or be ready or desirous to be confirmed,’ a great breach of discipline seems to havo been erpetrated by the open violation of this Rubric, and a deep wrong to ave been done to the Church and Her Divine Head by the admission to [ the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper of one who denies the doctrine of Our Lord’s divinity. We therefore earnestly pray that your Lordship will take such stops as seem best to you, to clear the Church in this Diocese from any complicity with this act of sacrilege.

“Robert Gregory. Canon of St. Paul’s ; H. P. Liddon, Canon of St. Paul’s, and Ireland Professor of the Exegesis of Holy Scripture in the University of Oxford; C. W. Furze. Vicar of Staines, and Rural Dean; Cyril Page, Vicar of Christ Church, Westminster; W. U. Richards, Vicar of All Saints’, Mnrgaret-strcet: G. C. White, Vicar of St. Barnabas, Pimlico; A. H. Machonochie, P.C. of St. Alban’s, Holborn; J. Walker, P.O. of St. Saviour’s Pimlico ; J. G. Cowan, P.C. of St. John’s, Hammersmith; J. C. Chambers, P.C. of St. Mary’s, Soho ; R. T. West, P.C. of St. Mary Magdalen, Paddington, Student of Christ Church ; W. Denton, Vicar of St. Bartholomew; H. W. Burrows, P.C. of Christ Church, Albany-street: Henry D. NihiU, P.C. of St. Michael’s, Shoreditch ; B. M. Cowie, Vicar of St. Lawrence, Jewrv ; W. H. Lyall, Rector of St. Dionis, Backchurch, W. H. Clutterbuck, P.C. of St. Philip’s, Clerkenwcll; C. F. Lowder, Vicar of St. Peter’s. Loudon Docks; John Going, Vicar of St. Paul’s, Walworth: Geo. Hervey, Vicar of St, Augustine’s, Haggerstone; Richard C. Kirkpatrick P.C. of St. Augustine’s, Kilburn; W. It. Sharp, Vicar of St. Chad’s, Haggerston ; Charles Gutch, P.C. of St. Cyprian’s, Marylebone; Thos. Hugo.Rector of Hackney; W. Ileyner Cosins, Vicar of Holy Trinity; G. E. Biber, Vicar of Roehampton; J. M. Ashley, Vicar of St. Peter’s, Verc-street; N. N. Chope, P.C. of St, Augustine’s, South Kensington; John Ross, Vicar of St. Mary’s, Haggerston; Thos. Darling, Vicar of St. Michael Royal; G. Fyler Townsend, Vicar of St. Michael’s, Burleigh-street; H. Saudham, Vicar of St. John’s Wood Chapel; Arthur B. Cotton, Vicar of St. Paul’s, Bow Common ; H. Wadmoro, Vicar of All Souls’, Hauipstead; Ed. Stuart, Vicar of St. Mary Stoke Newington; Oswald J. Cresswell, Rector of Hanwell; Magdalen, Munstcr-square; F. J. FitzWygram, Vicar St. James’s, New Hampton; J. Medicos Rodwell, Rector of St. Ethelburga’s, Bishopsgate: C. J. Mayo, Vicar of St. Andrew’s, Hillingdon; 0. J. LeGeyt, Vicar of St. Matthias’ J. H. Thomas, Vicar of Hillingdon.” In addition to the above there were numerous signatures of nonbeneficed Clergy.

The Hospice Of The Great St. Bernard.—The Vicar of Hurley Marlow, sends the Guardian an account of a visit he paid here Omitting the introductory details we quote those portions which we are sure will interest our readers:—” …. In another five or six minutes we had mounted the door-steps, and found ourselves in a stonepaved, white-walled passage, having rather a sepulchral appearance, w hile an oil-lamp here and there kept out the darkness. Not a soul was moving, and we had so.ue little difficulty in arousing anyone. At length a brother, clad in a black cloth cassock, with biretta on his head of tho same material, appeared through an open-worked iron door in one of the passages. He wore a white band, or ribbon, round hi* neck, which extended in front and behind to his cincture, as a mark of his Augustine order. A frugal meal of bread, butter, and cheese was Eoon cheerfully supplied to us from tho cupboards of the salle a manger by tho monk, and we were then shown by the same worthy to our a] artment for the night. Tho room was clean and comfortable, with two well-curtained beds in it, and an eider-down (?) quilt on each. Mass was sung next morning at six o’clock, and I got up to attend it. The Church, connected with the east end of the Hospice and opening out of it, is simply largo and neatly arranged without, however, anything ia it very remarkablo in any way. There is an alms-box in which visitors usually deposit their money in acknowledgment of hospitality received,

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—the monks making, of course, no charge. The Convent, as regards its structure, is a large, lofty, and massive building of stone—about 120 feet in length (without the Church) by about 60 feet in breadth—with a ground, second, and third floor, together with some attics. Long passages run from one end of the building to the other, from which the rooms and offices open out. The buildings are capable of lodging at least 300 poor, I believe. On Sunday, July 17th, about 100 were received there for the night. Opposite the Hospice is another building of a like character, but very much smaller: this is for the women travellers. The specimens of the St, Bernard dogs, now six in number, are noble beasts; these are taken out by the servants every morning in search for distressed travellers—in their passage from one side to another in search of work (they go chiefly from the Italian to the Swiss side in March and April, I believe, returning in November or December). The chief use of the dogs is to show the way, and this they do most wonderfully. At the east end of the Hospice, and a few yards from it, is a morgue or deadhouse, in which the bodies of travellers found dead in the snow are placed. About three were found last winter; none the winter before. I understood from the monk who attended on us that formerly these bodies were preserved somewhat (no doubt, to give longer time for identification by friends); from henceforth, however, this is to be discontinued. I did not enter, since some bodies there were offensive. The monks cannot make a cemetery if they would, since the ground around the Convent is too rocky. When one of their Order dies in the Convent, he is interred underneath the Church, in a vault hewn in the rock, I suppose. The establishment consists at present of thirteen monks, but only five were then resident in the Convent—the others being below, doing work for the Hospice in various ways. They are not at all old, the eldest being about forty, the others twenty-five or thirty; there are a few lay brethren and seven domestics. Each monk in the Hospice has a separate office appointed him. On the walls of the ‘suite a manger’ (kept for the use of visitors, and which, by the way, is really a most comfortable and handsome apartment) are arranged a number of prints 1 and others pictures—some of them English—and, amongst the rest, the well-known engraving of St. Augustine and Monica; a piano is also in it, given by his Koyul Highness the Prince of Wales. There is a wellkept library, in which is exhibited a collection of coins and bronzes excavated from the sight of a Temple of Jupiter which once stood on the west side of the luke. Relics of some description are still being found occasionally now. Altogether the visit was very interesting, but I am freo to confess that the fact of the Hospice of the Great St. Bernard having become such a regular ‘lion ‘ for tourists prevents one seeing the ordinary every-day Convent life of the monks in that natural state in which it may be witnessed in places less ‘hackneyed’ (if I may be allowed the use of the term) by tourists—the Holy Land, for example. Nothing, however, can be said too highly in praise of these excellent and devoted men, who spend their lives in offices of charity— never turning a deaf ear to anyone that asketh—feeding the hungry and succouring those in distress—all of which are so eminently of the essence of a pure religion. A visit to the Convent will be quite repaid to those who make it.”

THE BISHOPS AND RITUALISM. The Archbishop of Canterbury has addressed the following letter to the Chairman of the Portsmouth Branch of the Church Association, in answer to a memorial forwarded to his Grace, and signed by upwards of two thousand lay and Clerical members of the United Church of England and Ireland. The memorialists complain of the adoption by a party within the Church of doctrines and practices alien to the purity of the Reformed Faith, and express their ” indignant sorrow and surprise at the supincness and apathy that have prevailed for so long a period on the part of their ecclesiastical rulers.”

“Addington Park. Croydon, Aug. 3.

“My dear Sir,—I beg leave to acknowledge your letter of the 29th of July, and the accompanying address, originated, as you tell me, at a meeting of the Portsmouth Branch of the Church Association.

“I entirely agree with the late Archbishop of Canterbury in his view of the dangerous and unscriptural character of such sentiments as are set forth in the extract from his Grace’s letter which yon have quoted, and I believe there is no Bishop on the Bench who does not share the feelings of the late Archbishop on this subject

“I am not surprised that many members of the Church of England should feel indignant at practices and doctrines which have in some places sprung up during the last 20 years, having a manifest tendency to assimilate the worship and teaching of our pure, scriptural, and Reformed Church to the system of the Church of Rome. But 1 cannot in any way agree with you in the belief that this evil is owing to supineness and apathy on the part of the Bishops. You must be well aware that the Beneficed Clergy of the Church of England are not, like the Priests of some portions of the Church of Rome, dependent for their position on the arbitrary will of their Bishops, nor, liko some Dissenting Ministers, liable to be removed by a vote of their congregations, or of the heads of their community. I, for my part, whatever disadvantages may follow from this freedom of the Clergy, rejoice that it is secured to them, and that no Clergyman of the Church of England can be removed until he has had a fair and open trial before a compel.nt tribunal, in which his

violation of the law of the Church has been legally proved. The advantage thus obtained necessitates a great amount of patient toleration of variety of opinion in our Clergy. It is seldom that a Clergyman expresses himself in such terms as to lay him open to a charge of so violating the law that he can be found guilty in court. There have been many trials during the last 20 years on the points to which you allude. The Church Association has, I understand, been connected with some of these appeals to the proper tribunals, and, therefore, as one of its officers, you probably know that, while nothing in such matters can be done without legal proof, such proof of unsouud doctrine and practice is very difficult to obtain. Nor must we exaggerate the evil of which we have to complain, if such trials unavoidably consume a good deal of time and are expensive ; for the interests of each individual Clergyman are necessarily as carefully watched as the allegations of their accusers by the Judges of our ecclesiastical courts.

“I agree with what I presume is your wish, that the points at issue might, as the Ritual Commission has suggested, be decided in some less expensive and more expeditious manner; and I have always expressed my readiness to assist in improving our legislation in this direction. But I cannot attribute blome to those who, while the Legislature has shown no disposition to intrust the Bishops with greater authority, have thought it their duty, however much their patience has been tried, always to act according to law, and not to seek some arbitrary mode of crushing those whose opinions they disapprove, when such power is not conferred upon them either by the Church or the law of the land.

‘• In the midst of the anxieties of a disquieted age and the rancour of parties, I look, in common with my brethren of the Episcopate, to the great Head of the Church to aid us, in his own good time, in ourfaithful endeavours to maintain His honour, and I feel sure that, by His blessing, the truly Scriptural character of our Reformed Church, as set forth in our Formularies, will at last be vindicated; and our Church, retaining its hold on the affections of this great people, will preserve its acknowledged position as the exponent of an enlightened Christianity, labouring to promote education, boldly rebuking vice, and standing forth as the bulwark at once against superstition and infidelity.

‘• I remain, my dear Sir, your faithful servant, A. C. Cantuar.

“Lieutenant-General H. C. Tate, Chairman of the Portsmouth Branch of the Church Association.”


The following letter from Father Hyacinthe has been published in the Journal rles Debuts :—

“A very serious question is now presented to all Catholics. Ought they to adhere to the definition of the Infallibility of the Pope, or are they free to withhold their submission to it? Without doubt authority is the very character of our Church and the principle which governs our faith, but for that very reason it is important that we should distinguish between an apparent and a real authority, between a blind aud a reasoning and reflecting submission—Rationabilt obsequium rest nan. The question may, therefore, be thus defined. Is the authority of the Council of the Vatican lawful? or, in other words, docs the present Council possess tho essential characteristics of an Oecumenical Council? The first of these characters is liberty. Now, notwithstanding tho secrecy in which it has been sought to envelope the internal workiug of the Council, as though it were of the nature of those of which the Gospel speaks, which possess an affinity with darkness, and which avoid the light from fear of being judged ut turn arguuntur opera ejus, light has already been cast upon it, and will be still more vividly apparent concerning it. The repeated protests of so many illustrious Prelates representing the most important and most enlighteue 1 portions of Catholicity are known.asisalsotheir recentletter, at once firm and respectful, in which, while maintaining their negative votes, they have explained their reasons for retiring from the dishonourable battle field. The world caunot be unaware of the absence of dignity, I may even say of serious consideration, with which the high interests of the Faith have been treated by amajority which would have not been tolerated in the ancient Councils, both on account of its factitious and illusory composition and its audacious oppression. Another condition, not less important than the cecutnenity of a Council, is that it should be recognized as such by the Church. The Council, in fact, had no mission to impose new beliefs upon the faithful, but to maintain, and if needful to define, the ancient creeds. The Bishops are, above all others, witnesses of the traditional and historic faith of their respective Churches and of the Universal Church, and their sentence, as judges, limited in advance by the very nature of this testimony, can only be pronounced upon truths which have been accepted from the beginning, everwhere and always, as revealed—quod semper quod ubiqve quod ab omnibus. If, then, they should happen to overstep their powers, the Church would not recognize its faith in the arbitrary work which they had accomplished, and the Council would remain without authority. Such coses are uot unexampled, and to cite only one history has recorded the names of beleucias and Rimini, and the almost uuiversal defection under which, to use the words of St. Jerome, the world groaned and was astonished to find itself Arian, The danger is no less at the present time, and if one of the most important members of the Council (Monsignor Kenrick*) is to be believed, the Church has never known so great a peril. At such times it behoves even the humblest of Christians to uplift his voice in defence of his faith and the faith of all. For myself I feel myself inwardly compelled to fulfil the duty, and as the prophet said,—tu autem animam tuam liberaoisti. I protest, therefore, against the pretended dogma of the Pope’s Infallibility, as it is contained in the decree of the Council of Rome. It is because I am a Catholic, and wish to remain such, that I refuse to admit as binding upon the faith of the faithful a doctrine unknown to all ecclesiastical antiquity, which is disputed even now by numerous and eminent theologians, and which implies not a regular development but a radical change in the constitution of the Church and in the immutable rule of its faith. It is because I am a Christian and wish to remain such that I protest with all my soul against these almost Divine attributes to a man who is presented to our faith—I was about to say to our worship, as uniting in his person both the domination which is opposed to the spirit of that Gospel of which he is the Minister, and to the infallibility which is repugnant to the clay from which, like ourselves, he is formed. One of the most illustrious predecessors of Pius IX.. St. Gregory the Great, rejected as a sign of anti-Christ the title of Universal Bishop which was offered to him.f What would he have said to the title of Infallible Pontiff? On the 27th of September last year I wrote the following line concerning the Council then about to assemble:—’ If apprehensions, which I do not wish to share, should be realized— if the august assembly should have no more liberty in its deliberations than it has had in its preparations— if, in one wori it should be deprived of the essential characteristics of an (Ecumenical Council, I would call upon God and upon men to summon one roally summoned by the Holy Ghost, not in a party spirit—one representing really the Universal Church, and not the silence of some and the oppression of others.’ I again utter that cry. I ask for a truly free and (Ecumenical Council. And. above all, now as always, I appeal to God. Man has been powerless to procure the triumph of truth and justice. May God arise and take His cause in hand and decide it! The Council, which should have been a work of light and peace, has deepened the darkness and unchained discord among the religious world. War replies to it as a terrible echo in the social world. War is one of God’s scourges, but in inflicting a chastisement may it also prepare a remedy? In sweeping away the ancient edifice may it not prepare the ground upon which the Divine spouse of the Church shall construct the new Jerusalem ?” Freee Hyacixthe.

“Paris, July 30.”

‘•* Rem Ecclesia? in maximum ex quo orta sit discrimen adduxerint Conoio Petri Ricardi Kenrick. Archiepiscopi S. Ludovici in Statibus fecderaris America? septentrionalis, in Concilio Vaticano habenda, at non habita Naples, p. 06.

“t Moi, je dis, sans la moindre hesitation, que qniconque s’appelle l’e’veque universel ou desire ce tirre. est, par sou orgueil, le precurseur de 1’Anticbrist, parce qu’il prc’tend ainsi s’elever au-dessus des autres.” Liv. VU. lettre S3, i*dit. Bene’d.”

Rome.—The following notes we quote from the Tablet:— We have just learnt, from a source on which we can fully rely, that the Government of the Holy See is in possession of letters from Napoleon, which, if published, would produce a profound sensation in the present moment.

About two hundred Bishops remain in Rome, and although the general business will not commence till November, the Missionary and Oriental affairs are under discussiou and active preparation by the Commissions to whom they are entrusted. Among recent losses the Council has sustained is that of the Bishop of Barcelona, who died last week at Frascati of Roman fever. The Bishop of Buffalo is better, and will, it is hoped, soou be able to leave. Many of the Spanish Bishops are in the greatest poverty.

I have seen the Pope out driving several times since the Council, and am glad to say he is lookiug strong and happy, and seems likely to see the twenty-fifth year of his Pontificate. He is said to have expressed a pious confidence that God will not only grant this favour to the prayers of the Faithful, but will spare him to witness the Anno Santo, or Great Jubilee, the year after, and to close the Council.

The Rev. Fr. Suffield, O.P., has ceased his connection with the Rosary Magazine, ou account of his “ecclesiastical tendencies” not tallying with those of the editors of that periodical. Fr. Suffield has also announced that for similar reasons he is anxious to resign the directorship of the Perpetual Rosary as soou as his place can be supplied.

The Rev. Dr. O’Reilly, of WorcCs( the Holy Father to be first Bishop ^t^p r»ew Diocese of Springfield in

the United States, childhood resided

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Notes, Ettnarj), 3rri)£oloo;tcal, &t*

The Maharajah of Rewah has given 2,000/. to the pundits of Benares, who composed a poetical garland of flowers for the Duke of Edinburgh, on His Royal Highness visiting the sacred city.

It is rumoured that Mr. Bryant, encouraged, we presume, by the success of his version of the “niad,” is devoting himself to the task of translating the ‘ Odyssey.”

A new reprint of the ‘• Account of the Surname of Baird” is ready for publication. It contains several letters and family papers that now appear in print for the first time.

The death in Vienna of Joseph Strauss, the composer of dance music, is announced; he was one of three sons of the celebrated Strauss. The deceased composer has left about 300 original works, and more than 200 arrangements for tho full orchestra, and different instruments.

The first portion of the eighth edition of Tischendorf’s Greek Testament is just published, containing the Acts, the Epistle of St. James and St. Peter, and part of 1 St. John. It consists of 320 pages of closely but clearly printed matter.

Mr. G. Hodder has died of the effects of the injuries he received some weeks ego at Richmond. Mr. Hodder, who was educated at Christ’s Hospital, was long and honourably known as a London journalist, and in April last he published an interesting volume called ‘Memories of My Time,’ which contained personal reminiscences of Jerrold, Thackeray, &c.

Revised estimates have been published for the following public Services:—Science and Art Department buildings, now building at South Kensington, 52,500/., increase, 28,500/.; auxiliary museum in the East of London, 5,000/., increase, 2,000/.; total increase, 30,500/. In aid of the expenditure of certain learned societies in Great Britain, 12,450/., in addition, advances for the new Courts of Justice, buildings, 21,450/., of which 1C,000/. is intended for the erection of the building. Of course this will be repaid to the Treasury out of the surplus interest on money in the hands of the Court of Chancery. For the National Gallery enlargement, 44,000/. is asked, of which 20,000/. is for the acquisition of land, and 24,000/. for clearing the site acquired, and for new buildings.

At a moment when the Pope is putting himself on an equality with God, it may be of interest to know that in the year 1707 the French Academy offered a prize for a poem the subject of which was that the French Monarch was at least superior to humanity. The theme for the poet to illustrate was “That the King’s wisdom renders him superior to all manner of events.”—Athenaeum.

Text On Coins.—Texts of Scripture have often been inscribed upon coins. When the greenbacks were first issued by the United States Mr. Chase, then Secretary of the Treasury, consulted, among others, the President of one of the Philadelphia banks in regard to placing some motto upon them—such, for example, as has since been impressed upon the five-cent pieces.—” In God we trust.” After mentioning several Scriptural texts that had occurred to him, the Secretary asked our banker’s opinion. “Perhaps,” was the reply, “tho most appropriate would be, ‘ Silver and gold have I none ; but such as I have give I thee !'” The project was abandoned.—Ztippincotfs Magazine.

The Times- correspondent at Berlin remarks that the famous Projet de Traite’ was not only written by M. Benedetti, but written ou the paper of the French Embassy here. This latter circumstance has been verified by ocular inspection on the part of our whole Corps Diplomatique, and deserves especial mention. If Benedetti really wrote from Count Bismark’s dictation, did he bring his own paper with him for this purpose? Nobody will believe this ; while, on the othor hand, even M. Benedetti has not ventured to assert that Bismark paid Aim a visit ou the occasion, and that the nice little piece of penmanship was executed in the French Hotel, the Ambassador serving in his own house as the amanuensis of the Premier.


July 24, at tho Cloisters, Windsor Castle, the wife of tho Rev. H. F. Liinpus, of a son, stillborn.

July 29, at Warlirs, Waltham Abbey, the Lady Victoria Buxton, of a daughter.
July 30, at 5, Cromwell Houses, the Lady Cairns, of a daughter.
Aug. 2, at 96, Eaton-square, tho Marchioness Camden, of a daughter.


Aug. 4, at St. Michael’s, Chester-square, the Hon. and Rev. F. O. Pclhani to the Hon. Alice Glynn.

Aug. 4, at All Saints’, Margaret-street, after banns, tho Rev. E. W. Turner. M.A., of Carshalton, Surrey, to Elizalieth Anne Brasnell, only child of the Rev. H. G. Brasnell. formerly of* Bra-stcad, Kent.

Aug. 4, at St. Mary’s, GnwsontuUe, near Liverpool, Meyrick II. L. Bcebee, M.A., Fellow of St. John’s* College, Cambridge, to Elizu Jane, eldest daughter of John Swainson, Esq., Grassendulo.


July 29, at The Cloisters, Windsor Castle, in the 40th yoar of her ago. Eleonora, Elizabeth, wife of tho Rev. H. F. Limpus, Minor Canon of St. George’s Chape), and youngest daughter of the Rev. W. H. Vernon. M.A., Vicar of Leytonstone, Essex.

July 81, at Barrogill Cat>t!e, the Right Hon. Louisa Goorgina, Countess of Caithness.

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J- APOSTLE of IRELAND. By the Author of the “Life and Revelations of St. Gertrude,” “St. Francis and the Franciscans,” &c.

This work contains a translation of the well-known Tripartite Life or” St. Patrick, from the original Irish, by W. M. HENNESEY, Esq., M.B.F.A.; the original of the “Confession of St. Patrick.” as contained in tlio Book of Armagh, collated with the copies in the Bodclinn Library and Britten Mu-cutm, and many other important documents of the Irish Church in the sixth and Ruccoeding centuries.

This work forms one of a series written by a Poor Clare. Catalogues and further particularei may bo obtained from the Convent of Poor Clares, Kenmoro Co., Kerry. Those who wish to assist a good work are requested to apply for catalogues to the Lady Abbess as above.

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Jl eidered with reference to their Moral and Prophetical Meaning. By HENRY W. I. THIERSCH, D.D., late Professor of Divinity in the University uf Mar burgh.

“This is a very useful and good guide towards the understanding of the twenty-two Parables which were npoken by our Blessed Lord. To those Priests who want to get at the main drift and burden of one of these discourses—either for a Sermon or a Bible Class—iu a few minutes this little book will prove itself to be an invaluable boon. The salient points of each Parable are seized upon at once, and the commentary seldom extends over more than five or six pages. The reader is not burdened with useless matter, and what there is, is very much to the point. There- is nothing either verbose or high-flown in the treatise: its very earnest simplicity must commend it to any thoughtful mind’ Church Review.

London: THOMAS BOSWOBTH, 198, High Holborn, Removed from Regent-street

By Promoters of tho Catholic Revival in the
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No. 1. Protestantism and the Prayer Book. Is.
No. 1. Church and State. Is. 6d.
No. 3. Confession and Absolution. Is.

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PUZZLE-MONKEYS: Acrostics in
Prose and Verse. By E. L. F. H.
I’m sometimes square, and sometimes round;
I’m oft In mischief to be found
My whole’s a poser. May it be
Less puzzling to you than mo.
London: THOMAS BOSWORTH, 198, High Holborn

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ORGAN HARMONIES for the GREGOBIAN PSALM TONES. By ARTHUR H. BROWN, of Brentwood. Contain* eight different Harraoniea for each tone and each ending, amounting in all to nearly live hundred.

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1 WATERS. From the French of Dr. Killias. Second Edition, with Topographical, Climatic, and Piaoatorial Notes, Mountain Ascents. Excursions, Skeleton TourH. Ac. Compiled and Edited by the Hov. N. B. WHITBY (English Chaplain at Tarusp).

Also. Reprinted from the “Medical Times and Oazette” of April, 23rd. 1870. Dr. J. PuitNBY Yeo’s Article on ‘”Tarasp in the Lower En<radine.” London: THOMAS BOSWORTH. ]!IS. Hifih Holborn. Pari* GALIONAN1. Coire: J. A. PRADELLA.

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F.S.A., Vicar of All Saints’, Lambeth. Contents: Preface—List of Booka quoted or referred toChaptkhi.—Introductory: Statement of the Author’s object. II. The Prefaco to the Ordinal of 1549. III. Form for the Ordination of Deacons, 1549. IV. Ft-rm for the Ordination of Priests, 1549. V. Form for tho Consecration of Bishops, 1519. VI. Tho Edwardine Ordinal. VII. The Ordinal of King Edward VI.— Objections. VIII. Ordinal of King Edward VI. in substantial harmony with tho most ancient forma. IX. Some other ancient forms for Ordination. X. Medlwval forma for Consecration and Ordination in the Wetft. XI. The same subject continued. XII Eastern forms of Ordination. XIII. Forms of Ordination in use amongst the separated communities of the East. Christians of St. Thomas. XIV. Tho Ncstoriane. XV. Archbishop Matthew Parker. XVI. The Consecration of William Barlow. VII. The Consecrations of Hodgklns, Scory and Coverdale. XVIII. The Consecration of Archbishop Parker. XIX. Tho Nag’s Head Fable. XX The Case of Bishop Bonner versus Bishop Home, XXI. The Sacrament of Baptism. XXII, The Office of Conaecrator and Assistaut-Consecrator. XXIII. The Doctrine of Intention XXIV. and XXV. Roman Catholic Testimonies to the Validity of Anglican Orders. XXVI. The CaseR of Certain Anglican Clergy who have joined the Church of Rome. XXVII. Changes made in the English Ordinal in 1G62. XXVIIL Concluding Bemarks and Summary of the Author’s argument. Additional Notes.

Tables of Consecration: I. Archbishop Parker.

II. Archbishop Laud. III. Archbishop Juxon. APPENDICES.—I. Authoritative statements regarding

Ordination officially published in 1537 and 1643. II. An Act concerning the Consecration of a Bithop

made in 25th year of Henry VTH. Cap. xx. sec. 5. HI. Statutes relating to the Consecration of Bishops

under Edward VI.

IV. Act 3 Edward VI. to draw up a New Ordinal.

V. Act to annex tho Ordinal to the Prayer Book.

VI. Act 1 of Mary to repeal tho precoding Acts.

VII. Act 1 of Elizabeth to re-establish tho Book of Common Prayer.

VIII. Act declaring the legality of the Ordinations. XI. The Thirty-Nine Articles on Ordinat ion.

X. Documents relating to the Consecration of Barlow and Hodgkins.

XI. Documents relating to Seory and Coverdale.

XII. Documents relating to the Consecration of Parker.

XIII. Parker’s Book, De Antiqttiiatc lirttattnicse Ecclesia.

5IV. Henry Machyn’s Diary, with testimonies regard ing the same.

XV. Breve of Pope Julius III. to Cardinal Pole.

XVI. Dr. Lingard on Parker s Consecration.

XVII. Documents relating to the Consecration of Horn

XVIII. The NonjuringConsecrations. BishopHickes, Records.

XIX. Documents concerning the Cose of Bishop Gordon of Galloway.

XX. Dr. Newman’s Letters on Anglican Orders and replies to the same,

XXI. Certain Comments on Roman Catholic statements. The Charges of Forgery.

XXII. Letters of Orders of various Communions.

General Index. London: J. T. HAYES, Lyall-place, Eaton-square.


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Dogs licking blood

Like I said before, dogs aren’t necessarily bad since in some cases they can be used for good (bear in mind, Islam does allow dog ownership for as long as it’s within reason like hunting and guarding though some sects are significantly more sympathetic to those). In fact the line where the dogs licking the blood part, I think is where God uses dogs for good, like punishing evildoers.

Then there are always dogs used for getting rid of pests like rats and mice (understandable). Let’s not also forget that their closest relatives, wolves, also have a taste for blood that to give you the idea of this it’s not just Caitlin Snow’s dogs who taste and drink blood but also Caitlin Snow herself, who’s a thirsty wolf drinking a lot of blood from her victims and prey.

Though I still think God using dogs to punish Jezebel might be one of those cases where dogs might arguably be depicted in a more sympathetic light, something like using dogs to hunt down rats and detect criminal activity.