[1] The title which Auguste Comte gives himself in his "Catechisme
Positiviste."--Preface, p. xl.
[2] The zest with which this ecclesiastical garrison-duty is sometimes
performed, hardly comports with the traditional dignity of the Anglican
gentleman and scholar. We remember an incident which occurred in a
village situated among the hills of one of our northern dioceses. On a
fine summer evening we had gone, at the close of the afternoon service,
for a stroll through the fields overlooking the valley. When we had
walked half a mile or so, an extraordinary din arose from the direction
of the village, sounding like nothing human or instrumental, larynx,
catgut, or brass, though occasionally mingled with an undeniable note
from some shouting Stentor. It was evident, through the trees, that a
crowd was collected on the village green; and not less so, that a farmer
and his wife, who were looking on from a stile hard by, understood the
meaning of the scene below. On asking what all the hubbub was about, we
were told by the good woman: "It's all of our parson, that's banging out
the Methody wi' the tae-board." Being curious in ecclesiastical
researches, we hastened down the hill, in spite of the repulsion of
increasing noise. On one side of the green was a deal table, from which
a field-preacher was holding forth with passionate but fruitless energy;
for on the other side, and at the back of the crowd, was the parochial
man of God, who had issued from his parsonage, armed with its largest
tea-tray and the hall-door key, and was battering off the Japan in the
service of orthodoxy. No military music could more effectually
neutralize the shrieks of battle. The more the evangelist bellowed, the
faster went the parish gong. It was impossible to confute such a "drum
ecclesiastic." The man was not easily put down; but the triumph was
complete; and the "Methody's" brass was fairly beaten out of the field
by the Churchman's tin.