I think Ruth has written you some nonsense about me to which I hope
you will pay no attention. She is somewhat of a romancer. I do not
mean that the bare facts are not as she states them, but I have your
own high authority for the dictum that "A fact is often a most
misleading thing"!
At any rate, I know she could not have told you about the interesting
conversation we men had over our cigars after dinner, last night.
After the ladies withdrew Sir William asked me many questions about
our church. He wished particularly to learn how "The Anglican Church
in the States" got on without the supervision of the state. I
explained how rectors were "called," and bishops elected, and
deputies to the General Convention chosen, etc. He was greatly
interested, and said that unless something was done to give the laity
a voice in the management of the parish, he believed the days of the
Church of England were numbered. I asked him why he felt so
despondent, and he said:
"Take the case of this parish: the rector is an uncouth creature who
was given the living by a man to whom his father was tutor, and who
probably took orders with this in view, for he is far more interested
in his glebe than in the cure of souls. He will not listen to any
suggestions, but goes his own way. All the money goes into his hands
and there is no accounting to any one. I do not suggest that he is
dishonest, but I do say that a man who had the right feeling would
recognize that the people should know the amounts given, and the
purposes for which they are used."