With regard to the recent conference at Grindelwald, which the Bishop
had hoped to attend, it would not, it appears, have been his first
visit, for at the request of the Bishop of London he acted as his deputy
in opening the new English church destroyed in the recent fire. This
church was built by the brothers Boss, who with their family, to the
number of seven, keep the adjacent hotel, called "The Bear." The
following lines were written by the Bishop in their visitors' book:--
A sign upon the earth, behold!
Competes with one in heaven,
The Bear above, the "Bear" below,
The stars that form them, seven.
But when these signs compared are,
Judge then the heavenly losses;
For all declare the earthly stars
Most surely are the Bosses!
[Illustration: THE STUDY.
_From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
He won an open scholarship at St. Catharine's College, Cambridge, and
remained there until he took his degree in 1864. The late
Attorney-General was the representative of Cambridge in sports in those
days. The late Mr. Parnell was at Cambridge at the same time, and Lord
Carrington and Mr. F. C. Burnand were among the most important members
of the Cambridge A.D.C., as it was called. The acting in those days was
of a very high order. The Bishop was cox. of his college boat; not a
very enviable position--"you've got all the responsibility and none of
the kudos." A cox. is like a bishop: he can only guide, he cannot give
strength.
[Illustration: THE CHOIR, RIPON CATHEDRAL.
_From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
His lordship referred to the great improvement in University life to-day
compared with thirty years ago. Much less wine is consumed now, and a
man can go through the 'Varsity as a teetotaler without any
inconvenience. At college the young man began a practical training for
the ministry--giving lectures attending district meetings, and teaching
in the Sunday school.
The Bishop's first curacy was at Maidstone, and, strangely enough, he
was ordained by Bishop Longley. My visit to the Palace was in the full
tide of the cholera scare, and the Bishop referred to his experiences of
it at Maidstone.
[Illustration: RIPON CATHEDRAL.
_From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
"I was working there," he said, "when the cholera broke out in 1866. My
vicar was away. I assisted a little, more especially at a rookery called
Pad's Hole, then a den of thieves--now a low-lying little spot. I well
remember the first case I visited. It was a poor fellow who was a very
regular attendant at church. I went in at half-past ten to see him. I
went again at half-past one. As I walked up the hill a woman met me and
cried, 'He's gone!' He had been carried off in four hours. The truth is
the people were taken by surprise, and few precautions were taken--there
was no organized system of nurses then. The women who were sent to
attend the cholera-stricken people knew nothing about nursing. They
drank the brandy intended for the relief of the sufferers. I went into
one house to see a woman. The nurse was intoxicated. Shortly after the
poor woman died. At the graveside stood the nurse, still suffering from
the effects of drink.
"Whenever I walk along here I feel indebted to Longley for one great
thing," continued the Bishop. "You see these trees?" pointing to a
magnificent belt of trees immediately in front of us. "They keep away
the cutting Yorkshire winds. Longley planted these." Some idea of the
power of the winds may be gathered from a note in Bishop Longley's diary
already referred to. It was on the nights of the 6th and 7th of January,
1839, and all the north of England was affected by the storm. The Earl
of Lonsdale lost 70,000 trees in his young plantation, and the
magnificent avenue at Castle Howard was almost destroyed. The whole of
the kitchen garden wall was blown down at the Palace. Bishop Longley
very wisely put up that grand screen of trees.
His lordship entertains grateful recollections of his days at Maidstone
under his vicar, the Rev. David Dale Stewart. He remained there two
years, afterwards holding curacies at Clapham, and Lee in Kent. From Lee
he went to St. James's, Holloway, to assist the Rev. W. B. Mackenzie.
"Mr. Mackenzie," said the Bishop, "was a remarkable man; his power in
church and pulpit was singularly great. He only had one curacy and one
incumbency. I succeeded him as vicar, remaining there from 1870 to 1880.
There was no choir there--the congregation was the choir. Here, in
Yorkshire, choirs are invaluable. The people enjoy it--they will have a
choir."
I asked the Bishop if he thought well of the introduction of orchestras
into our churches. His reply was thoroughly frank and real.
"In the old days," he said, "men used to play in the churches, and never
expected to be paid. The condition of life since then has very much
changed. If every man will bring his instrument to church as a personal
act of homage to the glory of his Maker, by all means let us have it. We
are in danger of forgetting that if our acts are not the personal homage
of our hearts, such are not acceptable service. I am a little afraid
that we are just now passing through such days of activity as will
possibly cause us to forget the reality of things. We want, as Lord
Mount-Temple said, the Deep Church as well as the High and Low. Yes, let
us have orchestras in churches if you will, but I don't want the man to
go into a place of worship with his fiddle-case under his arm and the
idea in his mind that he is going to take part in a mere performance!"
[Illustration: RIPON CATHEDRAL.
_From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
At Holloway he founded many excellent institutions--classes for French,
German, shorthand, etc. The young men had their House of Commons, with
their vicar as Speaker. Many of the "M.P.'s" who belonged to the
Highbury Parliament have since turned out admirable speakers and useful
citizens.
After leaving St. James's, the Bishop became vicar of Christ Church,
Lancaster Gate. He was Select Preacher at Cambridge in 1875 and 1877;
Hulsean Lecturer at Cambridge, 1878; Honorary Chaplain to the Queen,
1878; Select Preacher at Oxford in 1882, when he was also appointed to a
vacant Canonry at Windsor; Bampton Lecturer, 1887, and in 1889 he
received an honorary D.C.L. from the University of Oxford.
[Illustration: THE PALACE, RIPON.
_From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
On the death of the late Dr. Bickersteth, in 1884, he was consecrated
Bishop of Ripon. His duties at the House of Lords consist of a fortnight
or three weeks in each year, for the purpose of reading prayers. This
duty, which once devolved entirely upon the junior Bishop, is now
undertaken in turns, with the exception of the seniors in rank.
It was market-day when we took our way through the streets and great
square which forms the market-place of the more than a thousand-year-old
city. It still keeps up the old-fashioned custom of the blowing of a
horn at morning and night near the Mayor's house.
On the north side of the Cathedral stands the Deanery. The Dean of
Ripon, who is eighty-four, was cox. in the Oxford crew of the first
'Varsity race, and he acted as page at the coronation of William IV. His
picturesque and venerable figure is one of the best known in Ripon. Dean
Fremantle has made Ripon his home in the truest sense, ever since his
appointment to the Deanery, now sixteen years ago. He has thrown himself
with vigour and devotion into every good work in the city and
neighbourhood. In the Millenary year he presented a magnificent
silver-mounted horn to the Mayor and Corporation, as guardians of the
city. More recently he presented a pleasant bathing shed and offices to
the neighbourhood. He believes in the healthy exercise of swimming and
boating and cricket. He still preaches with energy and impressiveness,
and large congregations gather at the nave services in the Cathedral,
where his voice is heard throughout the building. It is said that his
portrait is to be hung up among the city worthies in the Town Hall. His
sterling goodness, his generosity, his unfailing courtesy and kindness
have endeared him to everyone; and all would readily allow that he is
the best-loved citizen of the comely little Yorkshire town.
The near view of Ripon Cathedral is not particularly striking; its
beauty is more impressive at a distance. Inside, however, though at
first appearance somewhat bare-looking, there is much that is beautiful
in architectural design. One is struck with its really magnificent width
particularly, and the curious and sudden breaking up of the Norman arch,
near the nave, by a Gothic pillar. The carving, however, of the stalls
is very fine, and in many instances of great rarity. Beneath the stalls
are many quaint specimens of the carver's handiwork. Beneath the
Bishop's throne are the two spies of Joshua carrying the grapes, and a
couple of giants are represented on either side, one all head and no
body, the other all body with his head in the middle. Another stall
shows Jonah being thrown overboard, with a whale waiting with open mouth
to receive him, and near at hand is a carving of Pontius Pilate
wheeling away Judas in a wheelbarrow with his bag of silver.
Yet amongst all that is interesting in and about the cathedral nothing
is more so than the Saxon Chapel under the crypt. It is the earliest
known place of worship in the kingdom, its architecture being about the
seventh century. We light our candles and follow the verger down the
stone steps. The descent is a trifle treacherous. There are little
niches in the wall where candles are placed. Then we enter the chapel.
It is perfectly dark, and smells very earthy. A hole in one side of the
wall is pointed out. Tradition says that in the old days, when people
had anything suspicious against them, they were brought to this spot. If
they succeeded in crawling through to the other side they were
blameless; if they could not, they were unquestionably guilty. It is
also said that the young damsel who creeps through is sure to get
married within the year. Be this as it may, I was assured that very
recently a Yorkshire farmer brought his three daughters and sought
permission for them to crawl through the lucky hole. Another daughter
who had been through succeeded in getting married, and the father of the
remaining trio was anxious for them to see whether a journey through the
wall might not help him to more readily dispose of his daughters!
[Illustration: THE DEAN OF RIPON.
_From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]