Preachers.—Divine Service.—Divisions of the Bible.—Funeral
Service.—Burial in Cities.—Absurd Interments.—Monuments.—Private
Mausoleums.—Harmless Absurdities.—Church Endowments.—State of
the Clergy.—Religious Communities.—Admission Fees to
Institutions.—Ecclesiastical Societies.
It happened in the earlier part of their visit, when the travellers were
less familiar with the peculiarities of the Southland phraseology, that
they were inquiring one day whether there was in the neighbourhood where
they then were any _preacher_ of more than ordinary celebrity, and were
surprised at being answered that there were no preachers within two
hundred miles. As they had, before this, attended public worship, they
perceived at once that there must be some misapprehension. They found
that “a preacher” denotes—according to its primitive sense—what _we_
understand by a _missionary_ among the heathen. “Expounding,”
“lecturing,” “discoursing,” are the terms used by them to denote what we
call “preaching.”
When the difficulty was surmounted which they felt at first in following
what was said, from the novelty to them of the dialect, they were very
well pleased with some discourses they heard, which appeared to them
sensible, pious, and instructive; but they never heard any one who came
up to the idea of what we call “a fine preacher,” or “a very nice man,”
for the reason already mentioned in the notice of their parliamentary
debates.
The strangers were at first puzzled by another peculiarity which they
met with in their attendance on divine service. The minister referred,
not to the chapter and verse of any book of Scripture, but to the page
and line, or rather to what are _called_ pages and lines; that is,
certain equal divisions, which are indeed the actual pages and lines of
their large editions of the Bible, but of course do not correspond with
those of a different size. These artificial pages and lines, as they may
be called, are marked by horizontal (P. 25,/─) and vertical (L. 5./│)
lines, respectively. The origin of the custom, it seems, was, that their
first edited translation having been _paged_, and subsequent editions
being, for some time, fac-similes of it in point of size, the custom
grew up,—indeed there is reason to think it was designedly
encouraged,—of making the references to pages and lines; and these same
arbitrary divisions were accordingly retained in subsequent editions.
Generally, though not always, the chapters and verses are marked in the
margin, for the convenience of scholars who may wish to consult some of
the old editions of the Bible in the learned languages, or who may be
reading, in old editions, some works of the earlier divines containing
references to those divisions. For their own use, they consider their
method as preferable to ours, inasmuch as their divisions are exactly
_equal_; serve perfectly for the _use_ intended,—that of facility of
_reference_;—and carry on the face of them a plain indication that they
are designed for no _other_ use, and therefore cannot mislead the reader
into the notion of their having a connexion with the sense, and being
the work of the sacred writers, or designed by editors as a suitable
distribution of the matter.
The funeral service varies in a slight degree in the rituals of the
several churches; but in one point they all agree,—that in the prayers
used, and in any discourse delivered on the occasion, no allusion is
made to the particular individual deceased. The shortness and
uncertainty of life generally,—a future state, and the requisite
preparation for it,—with other such general topics, are the only ones
allowed to be introduced. Any mention of, or allusion to a particular
individual, in the way of panegyric or otherwise, on such an occasion,
would be regarded as invidious and highly indecorous.
“When a man,” they said, “has departed this life, to pronounce upon his
condition in another world, or to pray that that condition may be
altered, we regard as presumptuous, and especially unsuitable in a
Christian congregation assembled for a religious purpose.”
Their cemeteries are never contiguous to their places of ordinary
religious worship, nor within any of their towns or villages; but at
some little distance, and generally within, or adjoining, some park or
other public pleasure-ground. They imagined it must be deleterious to
the health of the Europeans to inhabit towns, the site of which consists
in great measure of stratum upon stratum of decomposing animal matter,
continually renewed and continually stirred up.
“We are well aware,” they said, “what gave rise to the practice. It was
the notion entertained by our ancestors (and, it should seem, by some of
their European descendants) that demons are scared away by the sound of
church-bells, by lustrations of holy-water, and the like; and that the
departed, accordingly, derive from such things some kind of comfort and
protection. We hold, however, (and we hoped our European brethren had
long since come to the same conclusion,) that the only injuries of which
a corpse is in any danger are from the plough or the spade, the
carrion-crow, the swine, or the wolf;” (so they call the Dingo, the New
Holland wild dog;) “and that protection from these is to be found in
stone walls, boards, and mounds of earth, not in any religious
ceremonies.
“As for spiritual danger, we conceive that the body becomes exempt from
everything of that kind, precisely at the moment life departs from it;
and, accordingly, that religious appliances _then_ employed resemble the
practice of the savages, who clothe the dead body of a friend in the
best skin robes they can procure, and bury it, surrounded with a store
of food, and with all the implements of hunting and fishing. If these
poor heathens were to go a step beyond this in absurdity,—if they were
to refuse to supply a famished companion while living with needful food,
clothing, and shelter, and then, as soon as he was dead, and no longer
sensible of cold and hunger, were to _begin_ to supply his dead body
with provisions, which it could no longer use,—they would then be
treating him, as some of our European forefathers treated themselves;
who seldom or never, during their lives, frequented a house of worship
to any profitable purpose, while they might have derived benefit from
their attendance; but reflected with satisfaction on the idea that their
dead bodies would be brought into the house of worship, and perhaps
interred there, as soon as the time should have passed when their
presence there would be of any avail.
“It is partly in order to guard against any relapse into such
superstitions that we make it a rule never even to bring a dead body
within the walls of a place of worship.”
There are no monuments in their burial-grounds beyond plain slabs,
containing the name of the person whose remains are interred, with the
necessary dates, &c. But in other places they have monuments of the
nature of cenotaphs, in memory of persons who have been in any manner so
distinguished as to be allowed this posthumous honour, by the direction,
or with the permission, of the civil authorities.
Statues are sometimes erected, in places of public resort, to men of
high eminence: but usually the memorial consists in an inscription
(sometimes accompanied with decorative sculpture) placed on the _house_
in which the person in question was born, or lived, or died; or on any
public building, such as a college, or library, or the like, which was
in any way connected with his useful labours. In all cases, any monument
so placed as to meet the public eye, cannot be erected without the
permission of the proper authorities; whose approval of the inscription,
decorations, and all the particulars, is essentially requisite.
“If a man chooses,” said they, “to erect within his own private house or
garden the most extravagant mausoleum in honour of some ancestor, and to
cover it with inscriptions of the most fulsome and groundless panegyric,
he is quite at liberty to do so. We do not profess to make laws to
prevent a man from playing the fool in private; but whatever is obtruded
on the _public_ eye is fairly placed under public control. And
monuments,” they added, “when thus duly regulated, constitute a useful
kind of record of departed worth, and of the several degrees and kinds
of it; the utility of which record would be greatly impaired if mixed up
and interlined, as it were, with the aberrations of the private
partiality, or ostentation, or absurdity of individuals.
“It is the same,” they said, “with titles of honour, and decorations of
office borne by the living. If a man has a fancy to wear in private a
dressing-gown decorated like a robe of state,—to have his easy-chair in
his study made after the fashion of a regal throne,—to make his own
family in private call him your lordship or your majesty, or to amuse
himself at his own home with any such folly, the laws would not take
cognizance of his harmless absurdities; but if he were to do all this in
public, he would not be allowed thus to go about to break down all
distinctions of rank, dignity, and office, by assuming what did not
belong to him. Now, we consider that monumental honours, when displayed
before the public, are a kind of public posthumous dignities; over
which, accordingly, the Public has a just right of control.”
* * * * *
All the churches are possessed of endowments (greater or less);
generally, though not exclusively, land, which are held by bodies of
trustees (variously constituted), recognised as corporations; these
receive and distribute the revenues, and, in some churches, have the
nomination to benefices; in others, this is placed in their hands
conjointly with the overseer (somewhat answering to bishop), or council
of overseers, of the church.
What is called among us the ‘voluntary system,’—the maintenance of the
minister by the voluntary contributions of his congregation,—is not only
unknown, but distinctly prohibited, in all the churches, by a regulation
which forbids the minister even to accept any kind of gratuity from his
flock, or to derive any profit from the letting of seats, or any other
such source.
Dr. Campbell, a clergyman and theological professor at one of their
seminaries, from whom among others their information on these subjects
was derived, observed, that he was not sure (as the experiment never had
been—and he hoped never would be—tried among them) whether any of their
States would even tolerate a religion whose ministers were to be
maintained by the congregations as hired servants.
“A pastor,” said he, “appointed by the people,—which is bad enough,—or
removable by the people,—which is still much worse,—or supported by
the gifts of the people,—which is far worst of all,—has everything to
encounter that can tend to make him what he should not be; and that
can expose him to suspicion of this, even if undeserved; and that can
lower his character, and lessen his deserved influence, if he is such
as he ought to be. No plan,” he added, “could possibly be devised more
calculated for debasing and corrupting both the clergy and people, and
for perverting religion, and turning it into a source of evil, instead
of good, to both. The people would be taught to seek for, and their
pastor (I should rather say, their _servant_) tempted to
supply,—instead of honest and profitable instruction and seasonable
admonitions,—flattery to their prejudices,—indulgence to their
vices,—encouragement to their superstitions,—assistance and counsel in
political schemes and party machinations,—amusing theatrical
excitement to itching ears,—and flattering delusions, as opiates to
the soul, instead of wholesome truth.”
On its being remarked, in reply, that many persons in England contend
for the benefit of making a minister’s income depend, in some degree at
least, on his own exertions, and are accustomed to adduce instances of
the inefficiency of some whose revenues are secure and independent, Dr.
Campbell replied that it is true such instances do occasionally occur,
and are much to be deplored.
“But, after all,” added he, “we ought to remember that, bad as it is for
a minister to be useless, _useless_ is the _best_ thing _such_ a
minister _can_ be. A clergyman who is capable of being stimulated to
exertion _only_ by motives of interest, and is careless and apathetic
when _that_ is wanting, had much better be _left_ careless. When gain
does rouse such a man to exertion, he will most likely exert himself as
a demagogue or a mountebank. A man whom neither conscientious motives,
nor desire for the respect and esteem of good men, can rouse to
efficiency in doing good, is very likely to become an active doer of
evil, if he have any dormant energies and talents that can be roused at
all.”
On inquiring whether the governments, accordingly, insist on paying all
ministers of religion who are not otherwise provided for, the travellers
were informed that Government never pays any. Occasionally, indeed,
grants of state-lands are made to various public institutions, and to
religious ones among the rest; but this is always by a distinct act of
each legislature in reference to the circumstances of each case that is
brought before them. But any persons who can raise among themselves, and
from their well-wishers, funds towards building and endowing chapels,
&c. and who prefer forming themselves into a distinct religious
community, never find any considerable difficulty in obtaining a charter
of incorporation for such trustees as they appoint. And it has often
happened that, by accessions of donations or bequests from time to time,
and also of members, some, both ecclesiastical and also academical
corporations, have, from small beginnings, grown into considerable
importance.
“The voluntary system,” said Dr. Campbell, “which we condemn, is not
voluntary gifts towards a common fund for an endowment _in perpetuity_,
but voluntary payments from time to time to a particular minister for
his yearly or weekly maintenance by his people,—by those, I was going to
say, who are placed under him; but, it should rather be, _under whom he
is placed_.”
* * * * *
It is a custom, it seems, for those admitted on any academical or
ecclesiastical foundation as partakers of the endowment, to contribute
themselves towards the fund, by paying a certain admission-fee, as it
may be called, on entrance. In the greater part of the institutions
whose endowments are sufficient for their objects this is little more
than a nominal payment, a sort of ceremonial acknowledgment, trifling in
amount: but in less amply endowed societies it is something
considerable; in those whose common funds are still smaller, it is more;
and in some,—chiefly such as are in their infancy,—a man has to pay, on
being admitted a fellow, an associate, a pastor, or whatever it may be,
of one of these colleges, or churches, &c. a sum equal to, or even
exceeding, what his maintenance derived from the society will probably
cost, according to the principles of annuity-office calculations. In
such a case, the advantages sought by the man or woman who is a
candidate for admission (for there are several female institutions of
this kind) are the pleasure and honour of being admitted into a society,
perhaps in high repute for the intelligence, worth, knowledge, and
agreeableness of its members,—(the same objects that make it in England
often a matter of earnest competition to be elected into a particular
club,)—the conveniences, sometimes, of a common library, museum, table,
&c.; so that a person who may have paid more than he or she will
actually cost the society, may yet have made a very good bargain in the
purchase of a comfortable and respectable maintenance; and, lastly, the
advantage of the purchase of a kind of _annuity_; paying down a certain
sum, and being secured, as far as a decent subsistence, against all
chances, by insuring a maintenance during life, or during single-life,
according to the regulations of each society.
The fellowships, &c. of _colleges_ are, for the most part, held during
celibacy only; and some of them make little or no provision for any but
those actually resident. Persons admitted on the foundation of
_ecclesiastical_ societies, as ministers or other officers, receive a
stipend for life, unless regularly expelled for misconduct.
* * * * *
There are several further particulars relating to these matters, on
which, as has been already mentioned, Mr. Sibthorpe hoped to obtain
fuller information.