_SUNDAY ABROAD._
SUNDAY is kept abroad with various degrees of propriety. As a rule, it
is a gala day—a fete day, and to certain classes of servants it only
brings additional toil. There is no distinction, as with ourselves,
unless in rare and exceptional cases, between railway trains on Sunday
and trains on week–days; and, in point of fact, I believe there is more
travelling on Sundays than on other days of the week. Work and business
are not wholly suspended, but there are fewer carts upon the streets.
In many places, workmen may be seen engaged in their employments, at
all events till dinner–time, just as usual. Shops are nowhere wholly
closed, at least during the earlier part of the day. But the generality
of the natives attend a morning service, and afterwards walk about in
their Sunday clothes; so that in large towns the streets are crowded by
lounging saunterers, or scarcely less idle sightseers. It is gratifying
to observe that wherever English people form a large admixture of
the population, as at Cannes, Mentone, and Pau, a greater external
reverence is paid to the day than elsewhere, and particularly in the
matter of closing shops. Possibly in some cases this may result from
finding it is not worth while to open them, as the principal customers
would not enter and transact, but let us hope that it springs from a
growing influence for good. In Paris, during and after the reign of the
Commune, I believe all shops were open; but they are now, year by year,
getting to be more and more closed.
* * * * *
In Mentone the washerwomen appear to suspend operations on Sundays. It
is probable that they strive to get all the linen committed to their
care sent home by the end of the week to the ladies, who require their
things by that time to be ready. But I have occasionally seen one
or two washing away as usual, even in heavy rain; and I fancy, from
appearances, they were then purifying their own garments.
* * * * *
To what extent theatres are open, I have no means of stating. I believe
that in Paris and other large French towns, if not elsewhere, the
theatres are in full operation.
* * * * *
In places where musical bands play, as at Interlachen, the music
proceeds just as on ordinary days—once, twice, or three times a day,
according to the custom of the place; but it gathers to it all the
idlers, and is therefore generally listened to by far greater crowds
than during the week. Nor is the music different in character from what
is usually performed. There is no attempt to compromise matters by
playing sacred tunes. Not improbably, in some places, there may be a
better selection of secular music than usual; ‘classical music’ may be
attempted. At Cannes, although it is a thoroughly English settlement,
the band plays on Sunday near the Mairie. At Mentone the playing took
place outside the _cirque_, near to some of the churches, so that the
worshippers had to pass by it to reach them.
* * * * *
Where there are Galleries or Museums, Sunday is usually an open or free
day, no payment being exacted. At Naples the Museum, and at Florence
the Picture Galleries and the grounds of the Royal Pitti Palace, are
open to the public, the only other day in the week on which the Museum
and Galleries are free being Thursdays. Ascension Day, however, seems
to be regarded as more holy than Sunday, for it happened at Florence,
while we were there, and falling upon a Thursday, the Galleries were
closed. The Louvre in Paris is open on Sunday, but is closed on Monday,
to be cleaned. The Capitoline Museum in Rome (belonging to Government)
is open on Sundays gratis, but as a rule galleries as well as shops are
closed on Sundays in Rome.
* * * * *
The Casino at Monte Carlo is always open on Sundays, and was a
source of attraction to many of the foreign visitors at Mentone, and
sometimes, though more rarely, even to such English people as were not
very strict in their views.
* * * * *
The Carnival proceeded at Nice the same as on the other day or days on
which it was held. It was probably then a grander affair, and I believe
drew to it much greater crowds—many, though not many English, going to
see it from Mentone, and, no doubt, from all the surrounding parts.
* * * * *
Sunday, indeed, is regarded as a fete day. In the times of the Empire
I found it, on occasion of my first visit to Paris, to be the day
of the great Fête Napoleon. It was also the day for illuminations,
and for playing the Grandes–Eaux at Versailles. The same practice
prevails elsewhere. At Rome there was on one Sunday during our visit
an illumination of the Piazza del Popolo, and a balloon was sent up in
the course of the evening. At Pau also our attention was called one
Sunday afternoon to an immense balloon descending, with a man suspended
from it by ropes—a most perilous–looking adventure, and by no means an
agreeable spectacle, though we were not near enough to see the man
distinctly. Throughout France the elections take place on the Sunday,
and possibly it is the same elsewhere. In Italy and in Paris, as well
as in other places, people expend a portion of their earnings in
driving about in cabs and other vehicles plying for hire. One summer,
a few years ago, we spent a fortnight in the Champs Elysées, and found
that on Sunday evening they were, if possible, more brilliantly lighted
up, and more gay and noisy, than on other nights; but I think the
great spectacle then to be seen was derived from the multiplicity of
_voitures_ driving up and down, two rows one way and two rows another,
in continuous line. As each carries either one or two lights (I am not
sure which, but I think two), and as nothing at a little distance but
the lights is seen, the effect is curious. The broad roadway seems from
the Place de la Concorde to the Triumphal Arch to be filled with an
incessant stream of Will–o’–the–wisp–like lights noiselessly flitting
up and down the course.
* * * * *
Letters are delivered by the post either as usual on the rest of the
week, or at all events on the Sunday morning, but my impression is that
there is no difference in the deliveries. When there were any letters
to annoy us, they were sure to come on a Sunday morning, so that often
we wished there had been no delivery.
* * * * *
In hotels at home, with a laudable view to lessen the work of servants
and give opportunity to them to go to church, visitors who have private
rooms are often requested to dine on Sundays at the public table, and
I have heard of no less than thirteen newly–married couples at one of
the English lake hotels having thus one Sunday complied. As people
abroad are little in the habit of dining in private rooms, there is not
scope for this observance. But Sunday is always regarded as a day for a
somewhat better dinner than usual. Sometimes, if not on the ordinary
programme, it is in the shape of a course of ices, or it may be some
other rarity.
* * * * *
The employment of the evening depends upon the company. The English,
as a rule, observe Sunday abroad much as they do at home, except, of
course, that being in a hotel, they are thrown more into living in
public. Many retire to their rooms and read. But often before they do
so, in hotels frequented by them,—particularly if exclusively so,—the
young people, led by some one at the piano, will join in singing hymns.
Even in hotels where foreigners are the principal visitors, English
people present will sometimes strike up a hymn. This takes place
usually to the apparent enjoyment of the foreigners, who seem not to
know what to do with themselves on Sunday. They do not read, at least
to the extent to which the English do. It is not unusual for them to
have recourse to cards, or drafts, or chess, while their children romp
about in a way at which we should be scandalized at home. Occasionally
a visitor will play and sing at the piano secular tunes and songs,
though when our countrywomen go to the piano they rarely select
anything but sacred pieces.
* * * * *
One Sunday evening I recollect its being announced that there would be
a concert by professional musicians in the _salon_, from which, before
the concert began, nearly all the English quietly withdrew. It was not
repeated in the same house while we were there.
* * * * *
In travelling, those who desire to have a book for Sunday reading,
ought to take one or more such books with them. They are not procurable
in shops or in circulating libraries. Possibly they may be, though
probably not of a high class, at Tract Dépôts; but where these depots
are to be found, may not always be easy to learn. However, in season
places the churches have generally small libraries attached to them,
which are useful to those who are there for the season. A passing
traveller of course cannot avail himself of them. It is not a bad
plan to have the monthly magazines sent by book post to one’s foreign
address, and when read they may prove very acceptable gifts to others.
* * * * *
It was not often that we were induced by curiosity to go into a Roman
Catholic Church on a Sunday. The proceedings are unintelligible to
the uninitiated, and the service seems to be all performed for the
people by the priests, who are ‘the Church.’ Where there is singing
or vocal music, it is done by the priests alone, aided by boys, and
sometimes, though very rarely, by women. I recollect, when in Antwerp
many years ago, on occasion of some great festival the choir was
augmented by a number of (concealed) female singers with the sweetest
voices. But the congregation never joins in the singing. They listen,
just as congregations do at home to anthems performed by choirs, which
it would require a knowledge of music, acquaintance with the piece,
a music book, and a good voice to enable them to take part in. The
service is conducted by the priests, with their backs to the people,
these backs being generally covered with an ornamented dress, sometimes
exhibiting an inserted cross in colours, sometimes white satin with
rich gold embroidery, but varying according to the rank held by the
priest, and according to the place, and doubtless according, in some
churches, to the importance of the day. The chief priest appears to be
reading a large book before him on the altar, and mumbling something
to himself; and every now and then he and they (when more than one)
perform a genuflexion or change position, and sometimes he turns round
to the audience and says something inaudibly, while a boy tinkles a
bell as a signal to the people at certain stages of the service. The
ceremony is familiar to all who have been abroad. This priest service
is no doubt intended, with other things, to exalt the priesthood and
to swell its power, the grasp and severity of which the world has
unfortunately too often felt. It is only right, however, to say that
the people listen devoutly, and seem to know something at least of what
is going on, and can follow it and understand when to rise up and when
to kneel down. Many of them hold in their hands the book containing the
service, which is printed both in Latin and in their own tongue; and
were this book (after which the Prayer Book of the Church of England
is modelled) purged of some erroneous matters, such as the prayers
to the Virgin Mary and Saints, it contains a service to the words of
which Protestants probably could not object. Mass sometimes begins
very early in the morning; and after it has been said by the priest (I
think it does not take much longer than half an hour), the congregation
clears out and is succeeded by another, which pours in, before whom the
service is repeated. People who have so heard mass apparently consider
they have done their duty for the day so far as church worship is
concerned.
* * * * *
When a priest preaches, which seems to be only rarely, and possibly
only when he has the faculty, he mounts the pulpit, by his side in
which a large crucifix is stuck, and addresses the people shortly but
with great animation, his eloquence increasing like the Welsh preachers
as he proceeds, till he reaches his climax in such a fervent heat that
the perspiration will burst from his brow. No doubt he succeeds in
stirring his auditors, but I never could make out sufficiently what was
said to know exactly the purport of discourse. But the blessed Virgin
is frequently invoked.
* * * * *
Roman Catholicism, however, must be losing ground fast, as the people
increase in knowledge and desire to be free from clerical yoke; and it
is astonishing to what an extent Protestantism, everywhere tolerated
now, prevails in countries formerly so pope and priest ridden. A book,
called _A Guide to Evangelical Work on the Continent of Europe, and
on the Southern and Eastern Shores of the Mediterranean_, published by
the Committee of the Foreign Evangelical Society (London: James Nisbet
& Co., 21 Berners Street; Paris: 4 Place du Théâtre Français, Rue de
Rivoli), gives an idea of the extent of this work.[12] I have tried to
make up some statistics from it, but have not found my results to agree
in numbers with the prefatory notes prefixed to some of the sections. I
observe, however, that in France the Reformed Church, under the control
of the State, is by far the largest of the Protestant denominations,
and it is stated in the guide to consist of 483 parishes and 573
pastors. But on reckoning up the churches named in the book, it seems
only to mention 124 Reformed Churches. Probably the explanation is that
all parishes are not given. Of the Church of the Augsburg Confession,
or Lutheran Church, there seem to be 63; of the Methodists, 7; of
the Société Evangélique de France, 25; of the Société Centrale, 70;
of the Wesleyan Church, 39; of the Free Church, 63; Independents, 6;
Baptists, 6; Société Evangélique de Genève, 14; Society of Friends, 1;
other denominations, 11 churches or stations. In all these the service
is in the native French, and intended for the natives, and there is
not a town of any importance in which there is not one or more of the
different denominations represented by a church, so that it will be
seen that Protestantism must be spreading and taking a deeper hold
on the people. In Paris alone there are, _inter alia_, the following
French Protestant churches:—Reformed Church, 19; Lutheran, 16;
Evangélique de France, 7; Baptist, 1; French Wesleyan, 6. The native
population, besides, throughout France, is reached by a multitude of
Protestant or Evangelical associations and institutions and schools,
such as Young Men’s Christian Associations, mission homes, orphanages,
etc., and there are not less than 85 Bible or Tract Dépôts. I state all
these figures _salvo justo calculo_, and with the impression that they
only represent a portion of the work, and they are at least short of
the figures given in the prefatory ‘note’ on the Protestant Churches of
France.
* * * * *
In some cases, as at Biarritz, French service is conducted in the
English Church; in others, as at Lucerne and Chateau d’Œx, the English
service is held in the native Protestant Church.
* * * * *
At Mentone, the French Protestant Church, under the pastoral care of a
most worthy man, M. Delapierre, is largely attended by English–speaking
people. Indeed, I would say that English, Scotch, and Americans of
all denominations form during the season by far the principal part
of the congregation. We used almost regularly to attend this church
during one of the Sunday services, going to one of the other churches
for the other service. A layman commenced by reading a short liturgy
or formulary of devotion, then a portion of Scripture, and, having
given out a hymn or canticle, as it is termed, left the pulpit, and
the minister taking his place, after extempore prayer, preached a
sermon. M. Delapierre spoke slowly and distinctly, and it was easy,
comparatively, to follow him. His thoughts were always good and
striking, though simple, often rising to an elevated and earnest
eloquence, calculated to make a deep impression. He was much respected
and esteemed by all, but unfortunately was, or rather is, a man of
delicate health; so that he only took one of the Sunday services, and
had for a short time to leave Mentone for relaxation and change of air.
His assistants (young men) we never could follow so well. Hymn–books,
with the canticles set to music, were placed in all the pews; and
generally at the close of the service a doxology was sung, being a
verse commencing, ‘Gloire soit au Saint Esprit,’ to the tune called
Hursley, the old German melody to which the hymn ‘Sun of my Soul’
has been wedded. There is a striking and puzzling peculiarity in the
French singing, for the words are not sung as spoken. Thus _père_ is
pronounced _peray_. The singing also is in slow time. The Communion
was dispensed on the first Sunday of the month, all who desired being,
without distinction of sect, invited to attend, and was conducted very
much in the same way as in Congregational churches at home.
* * * * *
We once witnessed in this church the baptism of an infant. The father
and mother, nurse and baby, and another man and woman—all stood up in
front of the reading–desk below the pulpit, to which M. Delapierre
descended, and took the baby, which had been squalling, over his
left arm. Holding up his hand, and looking down upon it, its great
eyes looked up into his either in terror or in wonder, and all was
still, not even the water sprinkling disturbing its equanimity. The
preliminary service or address seemed to be somewhat long.
No gown or vestment of any kind was used in the church beyond the
wearing of black clothes and a white tie, although I believe a gown is
worn in many other French churches. Everything was conducted with the
reverent simplicity so consistent with true worship. The singing was
assisted by a harmonium, amply sufficient for the size of the church,
which I suppose might not be seated for many more than two hundred.
* * * * *
In Italy the Waldensian is the largest of the native churches. The
_Guide_ (p. 159) says:—
‘Their missionaries are now found in all parts of Italy. There are 40
churches, some of them small, perhaps, but of living Christians; and
there are also 10 missionary stations, with 30 ordained pastors and
20 lay preachers, who visit every month 50 other small towns where
there are those friendly to the gospel. There are at present upwards
of 2000 converts. This Church, which has 15 parishes in the Waldensian
valleys, has a College or Lyceum at Torre Pellice, the capital, and a
Theological College at Florence, with three able professors.’
Next to the Waldensian is the Free Christian Church, which ‘has taken
a position between Presbyterianism and Congregationalism. It has 37
stations and 24 preachers.’ After it the Wesleyan Church comes, with 28
stations and as many Italian ministers. There are in Italy 14 Bible or
Tract Dépôts.
* * * * *
In Switzerland, Protestant service is conducted in most of the towns
by, _inter alia_, the National Reformed Church, the Free Church, the
Société Evangélique de Genève. There are 16 Bible or Tract Dépôts
throughout the country.
* * * * *
We attended a French service in the church at Chateau d’Œx, and found a
peculiarity existing there which perhaps may be characteristic of the
native Swiss churches, for all the women were seated on one side, and
all the men on the other, as, I believe, is the case with the Society
of Friends in Great Britain. Not till it was too late did I discover I
was a black sheep among the women. This congregation sat at singing and
rose at prayer. The church, a tolerably large one, was quite full, and
no doubt many came from a considerable distance.
* * * * *
Having said so much with regard to the native churches, I shall now
state a few facts regarding those conducted in English for the benefit
of strangers.
* * * * *
There are of American churches in France, 3; in Italy, 3; in
Switzerland, 1; of Wesleyan or Methodist, 5 in France, 2 in Italy (not
including American Methodist, which are probably Italian churches), and
none in Switzerland.[13] Apparently there is but one Congregational
church in these three countries, viz. in Paris, where nearly all the
above churches stated to be in France likewise are. The remaining
English churches are either Scotch Presbyterian or English Episcopalian.
* * * * *
Taking the Scotch Presbyterian first, I ascertain from the _Guide_
(by summation), in France 6, in Italy 6, in Switzerland 5—17 churches
altogether, but there may possibly be other Scotch services not
noted—as, for example, we found a room occupied in Venice which is not
a station noted. Of these 17, I find from the _Guide_ (comparing it,
too, with a card obtained abroad), there are 11 in connection with
the Free Church of Scotland; there is only one in connection with the
United Presbyterian body; the remaining five are either in connection
with the Established Church of Scotland, or are, as in Rome, and as
they undoubtedly should be, ‘occupied by a minister of the Established,
Free, or United Presbyterian Church of Scotland.’ It would be much
better if all the churches were in connection with all these bodies;
and, indeed, there is no reason why they might not take in Independents
and Baptists and other denominations, and call it everywhere the
‘Scotch Church.’ It would strengthen their hands very much, and avoid,
at least, the appearance of unnecessary schism. I believe, however,
there is an understanding, so far commendable, that where one of the
three Presbyterian bodies above named already has a station in a
foreign town, neither of the others shall introduce one of their own.
* * * * *
In some places the Presbyterian Churches have a chapel or building
devoted to worship, as at Cannes. In others a room is engaged, as at
Mentone; and I may here mention that the same thing is found with
regard to the Episcopal Churches or stations: frequently a room in
one of the hotels is used, and sometimes, as at Sorrento, is devoted
to this use. Where a church has been built by an Episcopalian body, a
great deal of space seems often lost, as at Hyères, in the chancel; and
in such cases, when the minister retires to its extreme end to read the
communion service, his voice is sometimes lost to the congregation.
* * * * *
In Florence, Leghorn, Pau, and perhaps elsewhere, there is a permanent
settled minister attached to the Presbyterian Church. At other stations
the pulpit is supplied either by ministers sent out for the season,
or more generally by ministers requiring to go abroad for health, to
whom the chaplaincy is pecuniarily an advantage; but it can scarcely
be an advantage in regard of their own health, and it does not tend to
secure for the station the best men. However, if this were not done,
probably stations might become vacant. At Rome, where there is a large
nice church outside the Porto del Popolo, alongside of other Protestant
churches, care is taken to send for a short period a man, or rather
two men, of recognised ability—a very proper step in such a city, and
one which, were it possible, it would be well to take elsewhere. While
we were in Rome, we were so fortunate as to have, among others, Mr.
Mitchell of Leith, who spoke with great power and eloquence. It was
strange and gladdening to think that in the very citadel of Old Giant
Pope there was now such perfect freedom of speech.
* * * * *
The English Episcopal Church is necessarily far more largely
represented abroad. In fact, there is no town of any importance in
which there is not a service conducted according to the forms of
this Church. In France, as appearing from the _Guide_, there are 54
stations; in Italy, 23; in Switzerland, 43; in all, 120. Of course
in other countries it is similarly, though perhaps not so largely
represented, because the three above–named are the principal countries
frequented by English travellers, and it is to them the present
observations have had exclusive reference.
* * * * *
I do not profess to know much about the operations of the Episcopal
Church of England, but I believe that it has two societies in
connection with the Continent—the Colonial and Continental Society, and
the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel. This last belongs to the
High Church or Ritualistic party.
* * * * *
Ritualism is not, according to my limited opportunities of observing,
very rampant abroad, although, looking at it as a dangerous and
insidious Jesuitical attempt to subvert the Protestant Church of
England to Rome, or to its errors, and to swell the power of the
clergy, the least beginnings deserve to be carefully watched and
reprobated by all who desire to preserve the purity of Christian
worship. Even were it carried to the most extravagant lengths to
which it sometimes is in England, it would pale its ineffectual
fire before the full blaze of the Roman Catholic Churches around in
their richly–adorned cathedrals, their great altars heaped with all
manner of valuables and decorations, their innumerable candles of all
sizes, their multiplicity of priests with gorgeous vestments, their
full–voiced sonorous chanting, their theatrical ceremonial.
But in some places there is a tendency, apparently held under a certain
check, towards Ritualistic practices.
Of course one sees everywhere in Episcopal congregations a good deal
of genuflexion among the women.[14] But I imagine this is not regarded
by many good people as Ritualistic, although it has a considerable
resemblance to the observance in Roman Catholic churches of bending the
knee before every crucifix which is passed.
The church is open in some places every morning of the week for reading
of prayers.
Intoning the prayers is occasionally attempted; but in a small
church, and essayed by one whose voice is not naturally musical, the
unaccustomed performance assumes all the appearance of a timidity
conscious of deviation from the simplicity of genuine worship.
Not infrequently the altar is gaily ornamented, and a large cross is
placed on it, and sometimes there is in a compartment of the window
over it a representation of the Saviour on the cross in stained glass.
At one little town where we spent a Sunday, the minister was a young
man with Ritualistic tendencies. We attended the little chapel, the
congregation (one–half probably Episcopalians) being about a dozen or
fifteen persons, nearly filling it. The altar was plain, just a table
covered with a red cloth, but a large cross stood on it. Shortly after
having read the commandment, ‘Thou shalt not make to thyself any graven
image, nor the likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or in
the earth beneath, or in the waters under the earth; thou shalt not
bow down to them nor worship them,’ etc., the young man knelt down on
his knees before the cross with his back to the congregation, as if in
silent adoration. Upon this an English gentleman immediately rose up,
and with his family walked out, and I felt much inclined to follow his
example.
The single attempt at robing I have witnessed was in the use of stoles,
where the wearer, having a black one and a red one, pleased himself by
crossing them on his back like a St. Andrew’s cross.
The only other practice I am aware of, savouring of Ritualism, is
where three or four stalwart young men, robed in white, have marched
in swinging procession from the vestry up the aisle to the chancel to
‘perform’ the duty, not requiring great physical and still less mental
exertion, of reading prayers, upon which (the watchful choir leading by
rising up) great part of the congregation stood to do them reverence in
the house of their Master. One almost expected the men, horrified, to
turn round and call out to the people in the words of the angel, ‘See
thou do it not, for I am thy fellow–servant. Worship God.’
* * * * *
I believe, were it not that in all the Episcopalian congregations
abroad there is a large proportion who either do not belong to the
body, or belonging to it, thoroughly disapprove of the practices of the
Ritualists (spoken of by the Roman Catholics as ‘our first cousins’),
there might be more latitude taken. But this reason should go a good
deal further and put an end to it altogether, because it has a direct
tendency to prevent those who cannot reconcile their conscience to
giving even the semblance of approval by attending service, from coming
to the chapel in which they prevail, and which may be the only one in
the place.
* * * * *
All these and any further observations, though made tenderly, must be
taken as by one who does not belong to the Episcopalian communion, and
as indicating perhaps the impressions formed by strangers or by those
belonging to other denominations.
* * * * *
The practice now so common, but I believe originally not either
intended or observed, of reading the Litany and Communion Service in
addition to the ordinary Morning Service, is very general abroad,
and, conveniently for lazy or careless clergymen, shoves the sermon
into a corner, so that, losing importance, it becomes short and is
commonplace, being seldom striking or impressive, although this
orthodox flatness is occasionally transgressed, sometimes singularly.
We once heard a sermon on Saint Michael almost leading up to the
worship of angels, and at Mentone a stranger one afternoon occupying
the pulpit spoke in eulogy of war at a time when war or peace were
trembling in the balance, and there was little need to inflame some
minds.
* * * * *
In the Episcopal churches there is usually a printed notice in every
pew to the effect that the income of the chaplaincy is dependent on
the offertory, and at every service (even, I believe, on week–days) a
collection is made by sending up the collecting plate through every
pew. While this is done, the congregation, or the major part, stands,
although perhaps not one in a hundred could assign any feasible reason
for doing so, and the minister for whose benefit the collection is made
reads out at intervals certain verses of Scripture. The collecting
plates with their contents are taken to him, and by him are deposited
on the altar, and afterwards carried by him to the vestry. To say that
this practice produces more, is only to act on the Roman Catholic
doctrine that the end justifies the means. In other places, such as in
Paris, the custom, in better taste, is to hold out a plate at the door
as the congregation retires.
The hours of service on Sunday are generally at 11 A.M. and 3 P.M.
If the second service be taken in the evening, it is not always so
arranged as to avoid trenching on the hotel dinner hour. In the Riviera
it is invariably in the afternoon, and it is kept short so as to allow
invalids to get home some time before sunset of the winter months. The
morning service is always well attended; but the afternoon service
(except in such places as Cannes and Mentone, and even there, too, to a
certain extent) is, in Episcopal churches, deserted, and there is only
a sprinkling of people in the pews. I have at one place seen only a
single person besides ourselves and those officiating; at others, only
a few, and probably none of them belonging to the Episcopal Church. In
these cases, sometimes only the Evening Service is read.
* * * * *
Out of Paris and Rome, there is hardly a ‘Dissenting’ Church
represented; and as the worship of the other churches does not
fundamentally differ, it may be convenient, in what I am about to
say, to design and classify them all as Presbyterian. Putting out of
view such places as Paris, Florence, and Rome, those attending the
Presbyterian services are comparatively few in number; and this is
partly attributable to the congregations being drawn from a smaller
community, and from a nation in which, among the better classes, from
whose ranks to a large extent travellers are drawn, Episcopalianism
is, to a considerable extent, considered fashionable. Assuming the
population of England to be seven times that of Scotland, the seventeen
Scotch Church stations form just about the fair proportion as compared
with the 120 English Church stations; while upon the same calculation,
the numbers of those who should attend Scotch services ought to be only
one–seventh, or, say, 10 for every 70. In this view of it, the Scotch
churches are fairly enough represented. But, of course, this is not a
practical view, and it is obvious that there must be great difficulty
in maintaining, with so few supporters, stations in not very populous
towns.
* * * * *
In Fielding’s time, Thwackum’s definition of religion might very well
represent general opinion in England, at least among Episcopalians.
By religion, he said, ‘I mean the Christian religion, and not only
the Christian religion, but the Protestant religion; and not only the
Protestant religion, but the Church of England.’ The idea dictating
this expression finds utterance more recently in Dean Hook saying,
with reference to an interview with Dr. Chalmers, ‘It would be
contrary to my principles to hear him preach.’ Many still would
shrink from entering a Presbyterian or Dissenting church, though they
are themselves Dissenters when across the Scottish border, where all
sects are on the same level, no sect affecting a religious superiority
over another, or being conscious of any social separation from others.
But when bishops have quietly gone to hear popular Scotch ministers
like Dr. Guthrie, and when men like Dean Stanley have even conducted
Presbyterian service in Scotland, it shows that this narrow and
unchristian illiberality of feeling is passing away. Presbyterians
and Dissenters in general take a large and liberal view, and do not
hesitate to go, at least occasionally, to an English Episcopal chapel;
and where it is conducted with simplicity and reverence, they even
enjoy a casual attendance, and hearing the fine old service of the
English Church, although after having had to go repeatedly they are
glad to get back to the less formal worship to which they have been
accustomed.
* * * * *
Now, does not all this suggest for consideration whether it would
not be possible, in the smaller places at least, to combine the
Scotch and English services in such a way as would enable all to meet
in common. There are marked peculiarities in both, distinguishing
them, no doubt—peculiarities which at home will take long, by mutual
reconcilement, to efface; but when people are from home, there is a
tendency to meet more on common ground and feel members of the same
great community. Thus it is not uncommon, at least in Scotland, in
large hydropathic establishments, very much to the satisfaction of all,
to have the whole company assembled on a Sunday evening for a simple
worship by reading of Scripture, singing of hymns, extempore prayer,
and a sermon or address by a Presbyterian minister.
* * * * *
Apart from the objection which Presbyterians have to a service which
is wholly read, and is therefore apt to degenerate into ceremonious
worship, there is not a great deal in what is usually read to which
they would take exception. The absolution would be better out, as
having a tendency to mislead,[15] and it grates upon unaccustomed ears
to hear the words of the prosaic version of the Psalms contained in the
Prayer Book substituted for the far grander and more poetical words of
the Authorized Version. But the Prayer Book, till reformed or revised,
would need to be taken as it stands. There would be, however, no need
for adding to the morning or evening service the communion service—that
might be reserved for those who desired to remain one Sunday in the
month for the Episcopal communion, the Presbyterians taking another
Sunday in the month for their communion. Nor need the Litany be always
used. Then, with regard to the remainder of the service, why not have
a Presbyterian minister, when he could be got (and sometimes there
are even men of eminence going about), to take it alternately, or
otherwise, with the Episcopalian, by giving a short suitable extempore
prayer before sermon, and then preaching a sermon according to his own
usage—in other words, adopting the mode of service practised in the
Rev. Newman Hall’s church, London.
* * * * *
Besides other and higher good, this alternate preaching might benefit
even the ministers themselves of both communions. The great fault
among Episcopalian clergymen is that, in the generality of cases,
what they read has no pretence or aim at preaching, but consists
rather of a string of meagre platitudes, of sentiments which nobody
would controvert, a dry homily read without feeling or animation, and
having no intention of reaching the soul or heart of the hearers. The
ministers of the other communions have, as a rule, a higher estimate
of the duty of the preacher; but they do not always have the power or
the perception of the means of carrying it out successfully. Among
men of mediocrity, the idea seems to be to occupy a long statutory
three–quarters of an hour in a stiff, formal, methodical fashion
of dividing and exhausting the subject, and an equally formal and
unskilful, and therefore ineffective, application and address. While
added to ignorance of the arts of arresting and maintaining attention
and of persuading an audience, Presbyterian divines too often do not
choose the most suitable subjects of discourse. Might not even the
spirit of emulation evoke better things?
* * * * *
It is too much the custom in churches in Scotland, after sermon,
to close with a hymn, a prayer, and an anthem. After an impressive
sermon, it seems only calculated to drive out the impression to have,
immediately after, the same subject and the same thoughts droned out by
the congregation in a melancholy paraphrase to a doleful tune, followed
up by the blare and fanfare of an elaborate high–sounding anthem
performed by the choir according to book. The English method, where all
this would be more appropriate, is to close quietly. But sometimes the
minister stops suddenly short, and with startling rapidity utters, ‘Now
to God the Father,’ etc. However, the rule is, whether with or without
this invocation, to close with either benediction, or a short prayer
and benediction. We did not often go to the west church at Mentone,
though near to us, because the flavour of the service inclined to be
‘high’; but the closing there was always pleasing. After the minister
had pronounced the benediction, and before the congregation rose from
their knees, the choir (composed principally of young ladies with good
and trained voices), to the accompaniment of the organ, in subdued
tones, so suitable to parting with reverent step and slow, sung to a
soft sweet tune the following simple, perhaps child–like verse:—
‘Lord, keep us safe this night, Secure from all we fear; May angels
guard us while we sleep, Till morning light appear.’