In The Afternoon I Went To The Deanery Of St. Paul's - A Retired
Building In A Deep Court Opposite The Cathedral.
After a brief
conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Milman, we went to the cathedral.
I had
never seen it before, and was much impressed with the majesty and
grace of the interior. Nevertheless, the Italian style of
architecture, with all its elegance, fails to affect me equally with
the Gothic. The very rudeness of the latter, a something inchoate and
unfinished, is significant of matter struggling with religious ideas
too vast to be fully expressed. Even as in the ancient Scriptures
there are ideas which seem to overtask the powers of human language. I
sat down with Mrs. M. in one of the little compartments, or
_stalls,_ as they are called, into which the galleries are
divided, and which are richly carved in black oak. The whole service
was chanted by a choir expressly trained for the purpose. Some of the
performers are boys of about thirteen years, and of beautiful
countenances. There is a peculiar manner of reading the service
practised in the cathedrals, which is called "intoning." It is a
plaintive, rhythmical chant, with as strong an unction of the nasal as
ever prevailed in a Quaker or Methodist meeting. I cannot exactly
understand why Episcopacy threw out the slur of "nasal twang" as one
of the peculiarities of the conventicle, when it is in full force in
the most approved seats of church orthodoxy. I listened to all in as
uncritical and sympathetic a spirit as possible, giving myself up to
be lifted by the music as high as it could waft me. To one thus
listening, it is impossible to criticize with severity; for, unless
positively offensive, any music becomes beautiful by the power of
sympathy and association. After service we listened to a short sermon
from the Rev. Mr. Villiers, fervent, affectionate, and evangelical in
spirit, and much in the general style of sermonizing which I have
already described.
Monday morning, May 23. We went to breakfast at Mr. Cobden's. Mr. C.
is a man of slender frame, rather under than over the middle size,
with great ease of manner, and flexibility of movement, and the most
frank, fascinating smile. His appearance is a sufficient account of
his popularity, for he seems to be one of those men who carry about
them an atmosphere of vivacity and social exhilaration. We had a very
pleasant and social time, discussing and comparing things in England
and America. Mr. Cobden assured us that he had had curious calls from
Americans, sometimes. Once an editor of a small village paper called,
who had been making a tour through the rural districts of England. He
said that he had asked some mowers how they were prospering. They
answered, "We ain't prosperin'; we're hayin'." Said Cobden,
"I told the man, 'Now don't you go home and publish that in your
paper;' but he did, nevertheless, and sent me over the paper with the
story in it." I might have comforted him with many a similar anecdote
of Americans, as for example, the man who was dead set against a
tariff, "'cause he knew if they once got it, they'd run the old thing
right through his farm;" or those immortal Pennsylvania Dutchmen, who,
to this day, it is said, give in all their votes under the solemn
conviction that they are upholding General Jackson's administration.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 55 of 233
Words from 28186 to 28761
of 120793
