1900
Rev. Frederick W. Farrar, Dean of Canterbury, in a recent article on "Temperance Progress in Great Britain," said: "Whatever progress there has been, a stupendous work still remains to be accomplished. Not for one hour, ought we to relax our efforts to save the world from this clinging curse, from this master-engine of the devil's malignity. Would that God might send us some great prophet to awaken us out of our spirit of stupor and to arouse our hearts and consciences as with the crash of thunder ere it be too late!"
—The Ram's Horn, March 17, 1900, p. 18.
Showing posts with label England. Show all posts
Showing posts with label England. Show all posts
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Friday, April 11, 2008
On Current Conflicts
1900
It is not pleasant to reflect that the two great Christian nations of the globe are engaged at this moment in an enterprise which the Christian religion itself was designed to abolish. We believe it is impossible theoretically to reconcile any war whatever with the principles of Jesus Christ, but even granting that the contentions which the United States and England are advancing in the Orient and South Africa are just ones, it is impossible for us to think that if Christ were the physical ruler of these nations as He is supposed to be the spiritual sovereign, a better way than that of war would not be found for securing justice.
A feature of the present situation which is to us the most disgusting is the attempt of certain Christians in and out of office to justify our hostile position by citing parallels from Jewish history. They are fond of speaking of the "God of battles" and of recalling the times when He used Israel as a scourge for devastating the heathen nations. That absurd parallel, however, breaks down in several points. In the first place we have not heard that God has appointed any Moses or Joshua or David to be a confidant concerning His purposes to destroy any particular race or its liberties. Certainly neither Mr. Chamberlain nor Mr. McKinley have offered any credentials which would validate such a divine commission. Second, we should remember that we are in a new dispensation, when God Himself does not use the same methods for bringing recalcitrant nations to account as He did in the era before Christ. It would be as absurd for us to resurrect some of the abhorrent institutions of the old dispensation which God suffered for a time, like polygamy and slavery, for instance, as to appeal to ancient precedent for our justification in prosecuting such wars as are now raging. Third, and finally, it should never be forgotten that neither England nor America is fighting against heathenism, for whatever may be said against Filipino or Boer it will be impossible to convince many people that an army which halts before battle to offer prayer to God or which hastens to render thanksgiving at that battle's close, is an object of God's displeasure; and a race which is essentially Christian, — Catholic Christian — but so far Christian as to throw off the Catholic yoke as Filipinos have done repeatedly cannot be wholly bereft of God's favor.
Whatever of truth there may be in these reflections, this much, to us at least, seems evident; that by reason of these two wars the rulers at Washington and London have placed the Anglo-Saxon race in a compromising position and have turned back the hands on the dial of progress at least a hundred years. Hereafter and for a long time to come any claim that America and England are God's chosen means for accomplishing the purpose of His gospel, will meet with the same smile of disgust and contempt which the title of Spain's tyrant Phillip provoked when he called himself "Most Christian majesty and protector of the faith." The two most Christian nations are making Christianity everywhere synonymous with perfidy and greed.
—The Ram's Horn, March 17, 1900, p. 4.
It is not pleasant to reflect that the two great Christian nations of the globe are engaged at this moment in an enterprise which the Christian religion itself was designed to abolish. We believe it is impossible theoretically to reconcile any war whatever with the principles of Jesus Christ, but even granting that the contentions which the United States and England are advancing in the Orient and South Africa are just ones, it is impossible for us to think that if Christ were the physical ruler of these nations as He is supposed to be the spiritual sovereign, a better way than that of war would not be found for securing justice.
A feature of the present situation which is to us the most disgusting is the attempt of certain Christians in and out of office to justify our hostile position by citing parallels from Jewish history. They are fond of speaking of the "God of battles" and of recalling the times when He used Israel as a scourge for devastating the heathen nations. That absurd parallel, however, breaks down in several points. In the first place we have not heard that God has appointed any Moses or Joshua or David to be a confidant concerning His purposes to destroy any particular race or its liberties. Certainly neither Mr. Chamberlain nor Mr. McKinley have offered any credentials which would validate such a divine commission. Second, we should remember that we are in a new dispensation, when God Himself does not use the same methods for bringing recalcitrant nations to account as He did in the era before Christ. It would be as absurd for us to resurrect some of the abhorrent institutions of the old dispensation which God suffered for a time, like polygamy and slavery, for instance, as to appeal to ancient precedent for our justification in prosecuting such wars as are now raging. Third, and finally, it should never be forgotten that neither England nor America is fighting against heathenism, for whatever may be said against Filipino or Boer it will be impossible to convince many people that an army which halts before battle to offer prayer to God or which hastens to render thanksgiving at that battle's close, is an object of God's displeasure; and a race which is essentially Christian, — Catholic Christian — but so far Christian as to throw off the Catholic yoke as Filipinos have done repeatedly cannot be wholly bereft of God's favor.
Whatever of truth there may be in these reflections, this much, to us at least, seems evident; that by reason of these two wars the rulers at Washington and London have placed the Anglo-Saxon race in a compromising position and have turned back the hands on the dial of progress at least a hundred years. Hereafter and for a long time to come any claim that America and England are God's chosen means for accomplishing the purpose of His gospel, will meet with the same smile of disgust and contempt which the title of Spain's tyrant Phillip provoked when he called himself "Most Christian majesty and protector of the faith." The two most Christian nations are making Christianity everywhere synonymous with perfidy and greed.
—The Ram's Horn, March 17, 1900, p. 4.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Conversion In Childhood
1900
The evangelist of the Free Churches of England, perhaps the greatest living evangelist of the world, Gipsy Smith, is a firm believer in the conversion of children. In an address made by him at a noon prayer meeting in London, and reported in The Christian, he pointed out that many Christian workers testify to having found salvation in the days of youth.
Mr. Smith went on to say that we need a deeper realization of the importance of evangelistic work among the young. We can scarcely begin too early, but we can easily postpone dealing with the question until it is too late, and the child has become a worldling. The late Mrs. Booth once said, "I believe it is possible to be ten minutes ahead of the devil." Save an adult and you save a unit; save a child and you save a multiplication table.
Mr. Smith told of an evangelistic mission in the North of England, at the conclusion of which a critical member grumbled about the only visible fruit being "only a boy." Yet that lad-convert is known today as Rev. Thomas Cook, the esteemed Wesleyan evangelist. At another mission a similar incident occurred, and the people said, "It's only a gipsy boy." That "gipsy boy" is now known as Gipsy Smith.
Mr. Smith added a story — told with a human interest and pathetic touch that moved many to tears — of his own little son. The lad was convicted of his need of Christ under his father's preaching in a meeting at the Free Trade Hall, Manchester. Many pressed forward to seek the Saviour. The boy stood for a time anxious and weeping, but timid, "the tears running down his face like bubbles in a mountain spring;" but ultimately he walked down the aisle, and entered the inquiry room. Nothing was said until the next morning, when, before daylight had broken, the little fellow crept into his father's room, taking with him a Bible which was a parental birthday gift. He had written, on the title-page, below the name: "Converted July 17, and the Lord added to the Church."
Concluding his appeal, Mr. Smith said that "Christ put heaven's richest diadem on the cradle of every homestead in the land when he said of the little ones, 'of such is the Kingdom of Heaven.' "
—The Ram's Horn, Nov. 17, 1900, p. 20.
The evangelist of the Free Churches of England, perhaps the greatest living evangelist of the world, Gipsy Smith, is a firm believer in the conversion of children. In an address made by him at a noon prayer meeting in London, and reported in The Christian, he pointed out that many Christian workers testify to having found salvation in the days of youth.
Mr. Smith went on to say that we need a deeper realization of the importance of evangelistic work among the young. We can scarcely begin too early, but we can easily postpone dealing with the question until it is too late, and the child has become a worldling. The late Mrs. Booth once said, "I believe it is possible to be ten minutes ahead of the devil." Save an adult and you save a unit; save a child and you save a multiplication table.
Mr. Smith told of an evangelistic mission in the North of England, at the conclusion of which a critical member grumbled about the only visible fruit being "only a boy." Yet that lad-convert is known today as Rev. Thomas Cook, the esteemed Wesleyan evangelist. At another mission a similar incident occurred, and the people said, "It's only a gipsy boy." That "gipsy boy" is now known as Gipsy Smith.
Mr. Smith added a story — told with a human interest and pathetic touch that moved many to tears — of his own little son. The lad was convicted of his need of Christ under his father's preaching in a meeting at the Free Trade Hall, Manchester. Many pressed forward to seek the Saviour. The boy stood for a time anxious and weeping, but timid, "the tears running down his face like bubbles in a mountain spring;" but ultimately he walked down the aisle, and entered the inquiry room. Nothing was said until the next morning, when, before daylight had broken, the little fellow crept into his father's room, taking with him a Bible which was a parental birthday gift. He had written, on the title-page, below the name: "Converted July 17, and the Lord added to the Church."
Concluding his appeal, Mr. Smith said that "Christ put heaven's richest diadem on the cradle of every homestead in the land when he said of the little ones, 'of such is the Kingdom of Heaven.' "
—The Ram's Horn, Nov. 17, 1900, p. 20.
Friday, December 21, 2007
On Early Christmas Days
(Article published in 1911)
Quaint and Interesting Customs That Prevailed When the Church and Festival Were Young
In the early days of the church, it is said that the bishops used to sing carols on Christmas day among their clergy, and around the sixteenth century the well-known practice observed by children of going around the neighborhood singing Christmas carols beneath the windows of the houses was commonly observed, usually taking place on Christmas morning. One of the oldest and most beautiful of the Christmas carols that has come down to the present day opens with these words:
"God rest you, merry gentlemen,
Let nothing you dismay.
For Jesus Christ, our Savior,
Was born upon this day.
To save us all from Satan's power,
When we were gone astray.
O, tidings of comfort and joy!
For Jesus Christ, our Savior,
Was born on Christmas Day."
It is sometimes more appropriate to sing the Christmas carols on Christmas eve than on Christmas day, although they are sung at both times; but in England the choir of the village church used to go around to the principal houses in the parish and sing some of these simple hymns on Christmas eve regularly.
Frequently the singers were accompanied on some instrument and often the picture presented was a pretty one. The figures of the group of singers, only visible in the darkness, by the lanterns they carried, and the sweet melody sung and played, made the observance a striking and beautiful one.
Sometimes in England, the carols were also sung in the churches in place of the usual psalms and hymns; although it was more customary for the clerk at the close of the service in a loud voice to wish all the congregation merry Christmas and a happy New Year.
Quaint and Interesting Customs That Prevailed When the Church and Festival Were Young
In the early days of the church, it is said that the bishops used to sing carols on Christmas day among their clergy, and around the sixteenth century the well-known practice observed by children of going around the neighborhood singing Christmas carols beneath the windows of the houses was commonly observed, usually taking place on Christmas morning. One of the oldest and most beautiful of the Christmas carols that has come down to the present day opens with these words:
"God rest you, merry gentlemen,
Let nothing you dismay.
For Jesus Christ, our Savior,
Was born upon this day.
To save us all from Satan's power,
When we were gone astray.
O, tidings of comfort and joy!
For Jesus Christ, our Savior,
Was born on Christmas Day."
It is sometimes more appropriate to sing the Christmas carols on Christmas eve than on Christmas day, although they are sung at both times; but in England the choir of the village church used to go around to the principal houses in the parish and sing some of these simple hymns on Christmas eve regularly.
Frequently the singers were accompanied on some instrument and often the picture presented was a pretty one. The figures of the group of singers, only visible in the darkness, by the lanterns they carried, and the sweet melody sung and played, made the observance a striking and beautiful one.
Sometimes in England, the carols were also sung in the churches in place of the usual psalms and hymns; although it was more customary for the clerk at the close of the service in a loud voice to wish all the congregation merry Christmas and a happy New Year.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Strenuous Peace
1905
The Rev. Father Hopkins, superior general of the Order of St. Paul, in whose abbey at Alton, England, shelter is given to worn-out merchant seamen, remarked to an audience recently that the peace of the abbey was more assured by his ability to "take a man by the scruff of the neck and throw him out" than by his ability to preach or pray.
Episcopal Awakener
The servants at Fulham palace, the bishop of London's residence, are roused each morning by what is probably a survival of the old rousing-staff formerly used in churches to "stir up" dozing members of the congregation. The lodge-keeper, whose duty it is to arouse the servants, is armed with a slender rod, about 15 feet long, with which he knocks on the antique casements of their bedrooms in the quadrangle within the gates of the large western archway.
1910
Curbing the Appetites
If the biceps require the dumb-bells, if the intellect require mathematics, logic and classics, so the appetites and desires require careful disciplining if the fullest life is to be obtained. — Rev. A. A. Brown, Episcopalian, Akron.
The Rev. Father Hopkins, superior general of the Order of St. Paul, in whose abbey at Alton, England, shelter is given to worn-out merchant seamen, remarked to an audience recently that the peace of the abbey was more assured by his ability to "take a man by the scruff of the neck and throw him out" than by his ability to preach or pray.
Episcopal Awakener
The servants at Fulham palace, the bishop of London's residence, are roused each morning by what is probably a survival of the old rousing-staff formerly used in churches to "stir up" dozing members of the congregation. The lodge-keeper, whose duty it is to arouse the servants, is armed with a slender rod, about 15 feet long, with which he knocks on the antique casements of their bedrooms in the quadrangle within the gates of the large western archway.
1910
Curbing the Appetites
If the biceps require the dumb-bells, if the intellect require mathematics, logic and classics, so the appetites and desires require careful disciplining if the fullest life is to be obtained. — Rev. A. A. Brown, Episcopalian, Akron.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Gladstone's Early Prayers
1900
A certain guest who was staying at Hawarden Castle asked at what time breakfast would be served, and was told, "Prayers are at a quarter to nine."
The next morning he went down into the library and found Mr. Gladstone working away, with his letters neatly ranged in piles before him.
"Here is a very interesting pamphlet, just received, on the Irish question," said the host, and passing it to the guest, went on with his letters. Soon a servant appeared, and told the visitor that the family was waiting for him at prayers. As Mr. Gladstone did not stir, he went alone to the breakfast-room, and afterward said to the daughter of the house:
"I waited, thinking your father would come."
"Oh," said she, "my father was at his prayers long ago. He went to church as usual."
"This morning? Why, there's a foot of snow on the ground!"
"That makes no difference to my father."
"How far is it?"
"About half a mile."
And the old statesman, then at the age of seventy-seven, was sitting, after his morning walk, working away at his letters.
—Youth's Companion.
A certain guest who was staying at Hawarden Castle asked at what time breakfast would be served, and was told, "Prayers are at a quarter to nine."
The next morning he went down into the library and found Mr. Gladstone working away, with his letters neatly ranged in piles before him.
"Here is a very interesting pamphlet, just received, on the Irish question," said the host, and passing it to the guest, went on with his letters. Soon a servant appeared, and told the visitor that the family was waiting for him at prayers. As Mr. Gladstone did not stir, he went alone to the breakfast-room, and afterward said to the daughter of the house:
"I waited, thinking your father would come."
"Oh," said she, "my father was at his prayers long ago. He went to church as usual."
"This morning? Why, there's a foot of snow on the ground!"
"That makes no difference to my father."
"How far is it?"
"About half a mile."
And the old statesman, then at the age of seventy-seven, was sitting, after his morning walk, working away at his letters.
—Youth's Companion.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Small Churches In England
1899
There are many churches that attract attention by their size and grandeur. There are a few that are remarkable by reason of their smallness and simplicity. It is believed that the smallest church in England, says a writer in the Quiver, is the midget church at Lullington, in Sussex.
It is a primitive and quaint building of flint, with stone quoins; it has a roof of red tiles, and a tiny weather-boarded turret at its west end. This miniature church is only sixteen feet square. Its pulpit is a pew, with panelled sides and door, and the furniture is of the plainest. Five narrow, diamond-paned windows give light to the interior. When this tiny church is full, thirty people are gathered together, quite as many as the little village can supply.
Only a little larger is the quaint meeting-house at Crawshawbooth, a village near Burnley. It is known as the Friends' Meeting-House, and is covered with ivy and surrounded by a well-cared-for burial-ground. Inside may be seen half a dozen oak benches that could, if necessary, accommodate sixty people. The attendance is rarely more than six. John Bright once walked twelve miles, from Rochdale, to be present at a service in this meeting-house.
Somewhat smaller than this chapel, however, is one that has been called the shrine of Quakerism. It is in the hamlet of Jordans, in Buckinghamshire. Hither in June of every year come Quakers from all parts, for here lie the remains of the great Quaker, William Penn.
If this were not enough to make the place interesting, it has the further attraction of being the neighborhood in which Milton lived after writing "Paradise Lost," a cottage in the vicinity affording him a resting-place. — Youth's Companion.
There are many churches that attract attention by their size and grandeur. There are a few that are remarkable by reason of their smallness and simplicity. It is believed that the smallest church in England, says a writer in the Quiver, is the midget church at Lullington, in Sussex.
It is a primitive and quaint building of flint, with stone quoins; it has a roof of red tiles, and a tiny weather-boarded turret at its west end. This miniature church is only sixteen feet square. Its pulpit is a pew, with panelled sides and door, and the furniture is of the plainest. Five narrow, diamond-paned windows give light to the interior. When this tiny church is full, thirty people are gathered together, quite as many as the little village can supply.
Only a little larger is the quaint meeting-house at Crawshawbooth, a village near Burnley. It is known as the Friends' Meeting-House, and is covered with ivy and surrounded by a well-cared-for burial-ground. Inside may be seen half a dozen oak benches that could, if necessary, accommodate sixty people. The attendance is rarely more than six. John Bright once walked twelve miles, from Rochdale, to be present at a service in this meeting-house.
Somewhat smaller than this chapel, however, is one that has been called the shrine of Quakerism. It is in the hamlet of Jordans, in Buckinghamshire. Hither in June of every year come Quakers from all parts, for here lie the remains of the great Quaker, William Penn.
If this were not enough to make the place interesting, it has the further attraction of being the neighborhood in which Milton lived after writing "Paradise Lost," a cottage in the vicinity affording him a resting-place. — Youth's Companion.
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Fine Lecture and Views of The Holy Land
1902
Rev. W. P. Reekie, B. A., who lectured in the Nena Street Baptist church on Friday evening on the Holy Land, was greeted by an audience that completely filled the building. The lecture was illustrated by eighty limelight views of scenes witnessed by Mr. Reekie in a journey from Manitoba, to, through, and from the Holy Land two years ago.
In introducing his lecture Mr. Reekie showed some views in the British Isles. As the picture of the late Queen was thrown on the canvas the spontaneous applause testified to the large place she still holds in the hearts of our people. The picture of the King was greeted with the hearty singing of the national anthem. These were followed by views of places made memorable because of their association with the earthly life of the Christ. The views were all that could be desired and any who were so fortunate as to view them will have a better understanding of the record of the Christ as given in the Gospels. The lecture closed with a number of views from the Passion week. The singing of appropriate hymns by the choir as different views were put on the canvas added much to the enjoyment of the evening.
The lecturer was at his best and held the undivided attention of his hearers. His remarks, as he explained the different views, were at times humorous, at times touching and always interesting and instructive. It would be difficult to say too much concerning the merit of the lecture and the high character of the views. If Mr. Reekie visits Winnipeg again we are much mistaken it he does not require a much larger building to hold his audience.
—Manitoba Morning Free Press, Winnipeg, Aug. 11, 1902, p. 11.
Rev. W. P. Reekie, B. A., who lectured in the Nena Street Baptist church on Friday evening on the Holy Land, was greeted by an audience that completely filled the building. The lecture was illustrated by eighty limelight views of scenes witnessed by Mr. Reekie in a journey from Manitoba, to, through, and from the Holy Land two years ago.
In introducing his lecture Mr. Reekie showed some views in the British Isles. As the picture of the late Queen was thrown on the canvas the spontaneous applause testified to the large place she still holds in the hearts of our people. The picture of the King was greeted with the hearty singing of the national anthem. These were followed by views of places made memorable because of their association with the earthly life of the Christ. The views were all that could be desired and any who were so fortunate as to view them will have a better understanding of the record of the Christ as given in the Gospels. The lecture closed with a number of views from the Passion week. The singing of appropriate hymns by the choir as different views were put on the canvas added much to the enjoyment of the evening.
The lecturer was at his best and held the undivided attention of his hearers. His remarks, as he explained the different views, were at times humorous, at times touching and always interesting and instructive. It would be difficult to say too much concerning the merit of the lecture and the high character of the views. If Mr. Reekie visits Winnipeg again we are much mistaken it he does not require a much larger building to hold his audience.
—Manitoba Morning Free Press, Winnipeg, Aug. 11, 1902, p. 11.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Child Would Not Offend Deity
1914
Child's Idea of Everyday Politeness Applied to All Cases and Needs
To a normal child all things and people, even those most highly endowed and wonderful, are to be taken simply. To a polite child, for example, the rules of everyday politeness are sufficient for all cases and needs.
A medical missionary recently returned from India tells the story of a sweet little girl, who was much troubled by the prevailing plague of mosquitoes.
"What does God make them for?" she asked.
Told that the Divine purpose in the matter was unknown, but that such purpose undoubtedly existed, the little one pondered silently for some moments. Then:
"Do you suppose I could ask him about it when I go to heaven?" she inquired. "You see, I'd just love to know why we have to have mosquitoes, but I wouldn't want the good Lord to think me rude."
Church in English Woods
Of Great Antiquity, Sacred Edifice in North Devon Proves Big Attraction to Visitors
Culbone church, which among many others claims to be the smallest church in England, is situated on the coast of North Devon, not far from the picturesque little village of Porlock, and the church is so guarded by hills and woods that the sun's rays reach it only four months of the year.
The building is but 33 feet long by 12 feet 8 inches wide, and has a porch, nave, carved oak chancel screen and Norman font, an alabaster altar piece and a quaint high pew near the chancel, used by the family of Lord Lovelace, by whom the property is owned. The slanted chancel is lit by a tiny, square-headed, iron-barred window, the oldest feature in the church, being pre-Norman, and cut out of a single stone. It is amply large for the population, which is about 35 in a parish of 1,337 acres.
In summer the church is crowded, owing to the influx of visitors from many parts of the world.
Child's Idea of Everyday Politeness Applied to All Cases and Needs
To a normal child all things and people, even those most highly endowed and wonderful, are to be taken simply. To a polite child, for example, the rules of everyday politeness are sufficient for all cases and needs.
A medical missionary recently returned from India tells the story of a sweet little girl, who was much troubled by the prevailing plague of mosquitoes.
"What does God make them for?" she asked.
Told that the Divine purpose in the matter was unknown, but that such purpose undoubtedly existed, the little one pondered silently for some moments. Then:
"Do you suppose I could ask him about it when I go to heaven?" she inquired. "You see, I'd just love to know why we have to have mosquitoes, but I wouldn't want the good Lord to think me rude."
Church in English Woods
Of Great Antiquity, Sacred Edifice in North Devon Proves Big Attraction to Visitors
Culbone church, which among many others claims to be the smallest church in England, is situated on the coast of North Devon, not far from the picturesque little village of Porlock, and the church is so guarded by hills and woods that the sun's rays reach it only four months of the year.
The building is but 33 feet long by 12 feet 8 inches wide, and has a porch, nave, carved oak chancel screen and Norman font, an alabaster altar piece and a quaint high pew near the chancel, used by the family of Lord Lovelace, by whom the property is owned. The slanted chancel is lit by a tiny, square-headed, iron-barred window, the oldest feature in the church, being pre-Norman, and cut out of a single stone. It is amply large for the population, which is about 35 in a parish of 1,337 acres.
In summer the church is crowded, owing to the influx of visitors from many parts of the world.
Lammas Day in England
1914
Lammas, as August 1 is popularly called, was formerly our national festival. It remains an important date, not only in Scotland, where this is a quarter day, but in many parts of rural England, where the pasture of "Lammas lands" belongs after August 1 to all parishioners who draw smoke, not through pipes, but chimneys.
"The word "Lammas" is a corruption of Loaf Mass, so-called because on this day it was once customary to present at church a loaf made from the new corn. Perhaps some relic of this custom still lingers among Sussex farmers, who try to get a loaf baked from the new wheat before the end of Goodwood week.
During the eighteenth century the Dissenters of London kept high festival on Lammas day to commemorate the death of Queen Anne. If she had lived they would have been deprived by the "Schism Bill" of the liberty of educating their own children. — London Chronicle.
Lammas, as August 1 is popularly called, was formerly our national festival. It remains an important date, not only in Scotland, where this is a quarter day, but in many parts of rural England, where the pasture of "Lammas lands" belongs after August 1 to all parishioners who draw smoke, not through pipes, but chimneys.
"The word "Lammas" is a corruption of Loaf Mass, so-called because on this day it was once customary to present at church a loaf made from the new corn. Perhaps some relic of this custom still lingers among Sussex farmers, who try to get a loaf baked from the new wheat before the end of Goodwood week.
During the eighteenth century the Dissenters of London kept high festival on Lammas day to commemorate the death of Queen Anne. If she had lived they would have been deprived by the "Schism Bill" of the liberty of educating their own children. — London Chronicle.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
The First Sermon — "Six Feet Above Contradiction"
The First Sermon
1921
LONDON — Aspiring orators frequently wonder how a minister feels while delivering his sermon. Is he momentarily "scared," or does he possess the habitual self-assurance and confidence of the public speaker in other walks of life. The London Mail presents a word-picture from "A Curate" which describes in humorous detail his first sermon.
"The 'hymn before the sermon' is drawing to its close. I have ascended the pulpit steps, and am standing 'six feet above contradiction'," he writes.
"The Gothic nave is still ringing with the organ's final chords, when some official at the west end turns down the lights — all except the one over the pulpit. I wish he hadn't — it makes me feel so conspicuous.
"There is a dreadful pause; seven hundred pairs of eyes are on me. My first instinct is to duck. Then I remember myself and the vicar's final words: 'Don't forget the invocation before and the ascription afterwards.'
"Good gracious! I have started. It sounds like a stranger speaking, and I seem far away, but I glue my eyes on my manuscript and carry on. My knees are simply banging together as I discourse on the doctrine of sanctification.
"Then someone in the congregation coughs; it seems to hit me right in the face. Simultaneously a choir boy drops a psalter; I almost leap out of my skin. I have lost my place; there is a long pause — at least five minutes it seems to me — someone coughs again, barks it this time.
"Then a strange thing happens. I get angry. I push aside my manuscript; I say the first thing that comes into my mind. I find myself ten minutes later at the end of an earnest exhortation to sanctity of life.
"Then I remember the ascription — relief at last! Out it comes, and I go back to my stall feeling an absolute wreck.
" 'Not at all bad for a first attempt,' says the vicar afterwards. 'I thought at first you were going to be deadly dull, but you warmed up to it nicely — earnestness tells.
" 'By the way, more pauses would be an improvement; that long pause of yours was very effective.' "
1921
LONDON — Aspiring orators frequently wonder how a minister feels while delivering his sermon. Is he momentarily "scared," or does he possess the habitual self-assurance and confidence of the public speaker in other walks of life. The London Mail presents a word-picture from "A Curate" which describes in humorous detail his first sermon.
"The 'hymn before the sermon' is drawing to its close. I have ascended the pulpit steps, and am standing 'six feet above contradiction'," he writes.
"The Gothic nave is still ringing with the organ's final chords, when some official at the west end turns down the lights — all except the one over the pulpit. I wish he hadn't — it makes me feel so conspicuous.
"There is a dreadful pause; seven hundred pairs of eyes are on me. My first instinct is to duck. Then I remember myself and the vicar's final words: 'Don't forget the invocation before and the ascription afterwards.'
"Good gracious! I have started. It sounds like a stranger speaking, and I seem far away, but I glue my eyes on my manuscript and carry on. My knees are simply banging together as I discourse on the doctrine of sanctification.
"Then someone in the congregation coughs; it seems to hit me right in the face. Simultaneously a choir boy drops a psalter; I almost leap out of my skin. I have lost my place; there is a long pause — at least five minutes it seems to me — someone coughs again, barks it this time.
"Then a strange thing happens. I get angry. I push aside my manuscript; I say the first thing that comes into my mind. I find myself ten minutes later at the end of an earnest exhortation to sanctity of life.
"Then I remember the ascription — relief at last! Out it comes, and I go back to my stall feeling an absolute wreck.
" 'Not at all bad for a first attempt,' says the vicar afterwards. 'I thought at first you were going to be deadly dull, but you warmed up to it nicely — earnestness tells.
" 'By the way, more pauses would be an improvement; that long pause of yours was very effective.' "
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Prayed for Their Guardian Angel — And the Angel Came!
1921
A British Clergyman and His Wife Tell About a Most Remarkable Visitation — and All England Marvels at the Story and Its "Corroboration."
LONDON, Dec. 20. — Rev. Maurice Elliott, vicar in the village of Snitterby, Lincolnshire, believes in his guardian angel with the same certainty that he believes in the existence of his village grocer. For the clergyman, according to his sworn testimony, has seen this angel with his own eyes, has heard the sound of his voice, has touched his glistening robe. The angel came at a crisis in the clergyman's life and by his good counsel enabled him and his wife to meet the situation without disaster.
The revelation of Mr. Elliott created considerable talk all over England, but a sensation was caused when it became known that many of the facts of his visitation had been corroborated by a celebrated London physician. Since that time a number of other physicians declare that they have met with similar cases and believe Mr. Elliott's story implicitly. There is as much reason to believe that a person has a guardian angel, they say, as it is to believe any of the commonly accepted physical facts of life. They contend, that such a belief is as provable, by resort to the ordinary senses, as, for instance, the law of specific gravity.
Dr. Elliott is a popular member of the clergy and is highly regarded as a thinker. His interview with his guardian angel came at a time, he said, when his wife was about to have a child and her life was in serious danger.
He was very fearful regarding her condition and sought the advice of a London specialist. The specialist advised an immediate operation, but admitted that such an operation would involve a dangerous risk.
"My wife and I," said Dr. Elliott, "prayed with all our hearts for guidance in this troubled hour. We prayed that if there was an angel specially appointed to protect and guide me and mine — that he appear to us and counsel us. And the evening before my wife was to go into a nursing home he did appear.
"The angel was a male. His figure was more majestic than that of men on earth. His eyes were extraordinary in their beauty and brightness. Ha spoke with a voice that was bell-like. He came to us in our room and at his appearance we felt not the slightest sense of terror — only a feeling of complete calm. He spoke in everyday language. It was as if a link between us and heaven had been established.
"We asked him what we must do about the specialist's advice. He replied that the specialist was wrong in advising an operation and that such a course would be fatal. 'Don't have it,' he told us. 'The physician's diagnosis is wrong.'
"The angel's visit decided us. When the physician came the next day to see us about the removal of my wife to the nursing home, we told him what had happened and that Mrs. Elliott had made up her mind to forgo the operation.
"Naturally, the doctor was astonished beyond measure, but did not argue the matter with us. I might add that he has, himself, taken a keen interest in the case ever since.
"A few days later we again asked Divine guidance. We wanted the angel to direct us to a medical man who would confirm the angel's statement. Again our prayers were answered. The angel appeared to us as he had on his first visit and told us to go to Brighton where we could meet the doctor we so much desired to see.
"Following these instructions we packed our bags and left the next day for Brighton. Before we arrived at the station the angel came to us in our compartment I do not imagine anyone else in the coach saw him, for nothing was said of it. The angel walked with us through the town and guided us to a hotel. He walked normally. There was no gliding or passing through substances. I noticed that he wore sandals. He conversed with us a good part of the time.
"After giving us full instructions as to the doctor we would meet there, what the doctor would look like and when we should approach him, the angel dematerialized and since then has not appeared to us."
The second day at the hotel, Dr. Elliott says, he recognized the physician from the angel's description as the man passed down the corridor into the drawing-room. Dr. Elliott followed him into the drawing-room and stated his case without asking him if he were a physician, so sure was he that the angel was correct,
The physician was naturally much astonished at being approached by a man who didn't even know his name, but though he had come to Brighton for a rest, finally consented to make an examination of Mrs, Elliott and a diagnosis of her case. He did not think an operation was necessary — in fact, he advised strongly against it.
The child born after this remarkable experience is a strong, healthy girl. Dr. Elliott says that when the baby was christened in Winchester Cathedral a company of angels was plainly manifest to himself and his wife.
A Vision of the Savior
For reasons of medical ethics, the physician who attended Mrs. Elliott would not permit the use of his name, but he confirmed the Brighton occurrence in detail.
Having a large practice the physician said he had gone to Brighton for a few weeks' rest. He did not register as a medical man and nobody connected with the hotel or in the town knew him as such.
"Being on a holiday which I much needed," he said, "I naturally did not care to accept any cases. But when I asked Dr. Elliott how he knew I was a physician he told me his remarkable story. It interested me so much that I agreed to see his wife. I examined her and my own diagnosis of the case accorded exactly with what the angel had told them. They appeared much relieved when I gave them my opinion.
"While I have had no experience with spiritualism, in fact, I know scarcely nothing about it, I believe that with God all things are possible."
Concurrent with the Elliott case is that which is vouched for by Rev. W. J. L. Sheppard, who has been preaching at Braintree parish church, fifty miles out of London. A member of the congregation, a business man who had been associated in no way with spiritualism, told the pastor that he had seen a vision of Christ on the cross behind the chancel rail, during the progress of the service.
Rev. Dr. Sheppard recently announced the vision from the pulpit, saying to his startled congregation:
"During the evening service last Sunday a well known Braintree business man in the congregation saw a vision of the crucified Savior in the chancel of this church. He said he first saw the vision while kneeling in prayer. A bright light from a halo on the head of the crucified Christ filled the whole chancel and blotted out every other object. This is not a case of an emotional woman seeing a vision, but of a hard-headed man. The vision must be "taken as a divine revelation."
The business man told Mr. Sheppard that when he first saw the vision he bowed his head to collect his thoughts. He thought at first that it might be an optical illusion. When he looked up again the vision of the crucified Christ still filled the chancel. He looked at it about four minutes the second time. The vision did not speak or beckon to him, but looked with pleading eyes. Finally, the light from the halo faded gradually away and the vision disappeared. The man became quite ill and broke into a violent perspiration.
—Fort Wayne Journal Gazette, Fort Wayne, Indiana, Jan. 1, 1922, section 4, page 2.
A British Clergyman and His Wife Tell About a Most Remarkable Visitation — and All England Marvels at the Story and Its "Corroboration."
LONDON, Dec. 20. — Rev. Maurice Elliott, vicar in the village of Snitterby, Lincolnshire, believes in his guardian angel with the same certainty that he believes in the existence of his village grocer. For the clergyman, according to his sworn testimony, has seen this angel with his own eyes, has heard the sound of his voice, has touched his glistening robe. The angel came at a crisis in the clergyman's life and by his good counsel enabled him and his wife to meet the situation without disaster.
The revelation of Mr. Elliott created considerable talk all over England, but a sensation was caused when it became known that many of the facts of his visitation had been corroborated by a celebrated London physician. Since that time a number of other physicians declare that they have met with similar cases and believe Mr. Elliott's story implicitly. There is as much reason to believe that a person has a guardian angel, they say, as it is to believe any of the commonly accepted physical facts of life. They contend, that such a belief is as provable, by resort to the ordinary senses, as, for instance, the law of specific gravity.
Dr. Elliott is a popular member of the clergy and is highly regarded as a thinker. His interview with his guardian angel came at a time, he said, when his wife was about to have a child and her life was in serious danger.
He was very fearful regarding her condition and sought the advice of a London specialist. The specialist advised an immediate operation, but admitted that such an operation would involve a dangerous risk.
"My wife and I," said Dr. Elliott, "prayed with all our hearts for guidance in this troubled hour. We prayed that if there was an angel specially appointed to protect and guide me and mine — that he appear to us and counsel us. And the evening before my wife was to go into a nursing home he did appear.
"The angel was a male. His figure was more majestic than that of men on earth. His eyes were extraordinary in their beauty and brightness. Ha spoke with a voice that was bell-like. He came to us in our room and at his appearance we felt not the slightest sense of terror — only a feeling of complete calm. He spoke in everyday language. It was as if a link between us and heaven had been established.
"We asked him what we must do about the specialist's advice. He replied that the specialist was wrong in advising an operation and that such a course would be fatal. 'Don't have it,' he told us. 'The physician's diagnosis is wrong.'
"The angel's visit decided us. When the physician came the next day to see us about the removal of my wife to the nursing home, we told him what had happened and that Mrs. Elliott had made up her mind to forgo the operation.
"Naturally, the doctor was astonished beyond measure, but did not argue the matter with us. I might add that he has, himself, taken a keen interest in the case ever since.
"A few days later we again asked Divine guidance. We wanted the angel to direct us to a medical man who would confirm the angel's statement. Again our prayers were answered. The angel appeared to us as he had on his first visit and told us to go to Brighton where we could meet the doctor we so much desired to see.
"Following these instructions we packed our bags and left the next day for Brighton. Before we arrived at the station the angel came to us in our compartment I do not imagine anyone else in the coach saw him, for nothing was said of it. The angel walked with us through the town and guided us to a hotel. He walked normally. There was no gliding or passing through substances. I noticed that he wore sandals. He conversed with us a good part of the time.
"After giving us full instructions as to the doctor we would meet there, what the doctor would look like and when we should approach him, the angel dematerialized and since then has not appeared to us."
The second day at the hotel, Dr. Elliott says, he recognized the physician from the angel's description as the man passed down the corridor into the drawing-room. Dr. Elliott followed him into the drawing-room and stated his case without asking him if he were a physician, so sure was he that the angel was correct,
The physician was naturally much astonished at being approached by a man who didn't even know his name, but though he had come to Brighton for a rest, finally consented to make an examination of Mrs, Elliott and a diagnosis of her case. He did not think an operation was necessary — in fact, he advised strongly against it.
The child born after this remarkable experience is a strong, healthy girl. Dr. Elliott says that when the baby was christened in Winchester Cathedral a company of angels was plainly manifest to himself and his wife.
A Vision of the Savior
For reasons of medical ethics, the physician who attended Mrs. Elliott would not permit the use of his name, but he confirmed the Brighton occurrence in detail.
Having a large practice the physician said he had gone to Brighton for a few weeks' rest. He did not register as a medical man and nobody connected with the hotel or in the town knew him as such.
"Being on a holiday which I much needed," he said, "I naturally did not care to accept any cases. But when I asked Dr. Elliott how he knew I was a physician he told me his remarkable story. It interested me so much that I agreed to see his wife. I examined her and my own diagnosis of the case accorded exactly with what the angel had told them. They appeared much relieved when I gave them my opinion.
"While I have had no experience with spiritualism, in fact, I know scarcely nothing about it, I believe that with God all things are possible."
Concurrent with the Elliott case is that which is vouched for by Rev. W. J. L. Sheppard, who has been preaching at Braintree parish church, fifty miles out of London. A member of the congregation, a business man who had been associated in no way with spiritualism, told the pastor that he had seen a vision of Christ on the cross behind the chancel rail, during the progress of the service.
Rev. Dr. Sheppard recently announced the vision from the pulpit, saying to his startled congregation:
"During the evening service last Sunday a well known Braintree business man in the congregation saw a vision of the crucified Savior in the chancel of this church. He said he first saw the vision while kneeling in prayer. A bright light from a halo on the head of the crucified Christ filled the whole chancel and blotted out every other object. This is not a case of an emotional woman seeing a vision, but of a hard-headed man. The vision must be "taken as a divine revelation."
The business man told Mr. Sheppard that when he first saw the vision he bowed his head to collect his thoughts. He thought at first that it might be an optical illusion. When he looked up again the vision of the crucified Christ still filled the chancel. He looked at it about four minutes the second time. The vision did not speak or beckon to him, but looked with pleading eyes. Finally, the light from the halo faded gradually away and the vision disappeared. The man became quite ill and broke into a violent perspiration.
—Fort Wayne Journal Gazette, Fort Wayne, Indiana, Jan. 1, 1922, section 4, page 2.
Saturday, May 5, 2007
Visits to Woman Overdone — Points For the New Curate
1909
Points For the New Curate
Dean Pigou gives a few reminiscences of Doncaster, where at one time be was vicar. Among the stories he tells is this concerning one of his curates. He went to see an old woman with whom visiting had perhaps been overdone. She at once accosted him.
"So you are the new curate, aren't you?"
"Yes," he replied.
"Well, just you sit down on that 'ere chair." It was a three legged stool of most uncertain standing.
"Now, I'll tell you what you does when you comes to see me. You sits on that stool. You then read me, mind, a short psalm. Then you gives me a shilling, and you can go." — London Vanity Fair.
Points For the New Curate
Dean Pigou gives a few reminiscences of Doncaster, where at one time be was vicar. Among the stories he tells is this concerning one of his curates. He went to see an old woman with whom visiting had perhaps been overdone. She at once accosted him.
"So you are the new curate, aren't you?"
"Yes," he replied.
"Well, just you sit down on that 'ere chair." It was a three legged stool of most uncertain standing.
"Now, I'll tell you what you does when you comes to see me. You sits on that stool. You then read me, mind, a short psalm. Then you gives me a shilling, and you can go." — London Vanity Fair.
Friday, May 4, 2007
Rosicrucians' George Knox Dies, Sought Philosopher's Stone
December 1898
The Rosicrucians
Londoner Who Spent His Life Seeking the Philosopher's Stone and the Elixir of Life
The pre-Faraday school of chemistry, the chemistry of the elixir of life and the philosopher's stone, in whose strange nomenclature metals were known by such uncouth names us the "Red Lion," the "Green Serpent," the "Blue Dragon," and invested with mysterious, inexplicable properties, has recently lost one of its last, if not its very last genuine disciple.
His name was George Knox, and he died the other day in London at the age of somewhere about 90 years. For the last 30 years he had lived in the quarter of the city known as St. John's Wood, the last place where one would expect to find a philosopher. The old gentleman, however, knew nothing of the ways of his neighbors and they knew as little of his. Though a cheerful old man and exceedingly active for his years, he lived the life of a hermit, his whole energies being bent on the task of resolving the chemical problems of the middle ages. Mr. Knox used to call himself the "last of the Rosicrucians," and the chief objects of his pursuit were the elixir of life and the philosopher's stone. Three small fortunes he had had left to him at different periods of his life and the whole of two of them and the greater part of the third went into the crucible and the mortar. When a young man he had traveled all over the east, camping with Bedouins and hobnobbing with Brahmins and Tartars, seeking information concerning the recondite and occult.
The latter half of his life was spent in endeavoring to apply the information thus gained. One fortune went in the making of a few small rubies and a commercially valueless diamond. The elixir of life swallowed up the second. Among other processes this latter chimera involved the boiling of a liquid in a crucible for three yours. Up till the day of his death he believed that he had discovered if not the veritable elixir at least something approximating to it, and to the close he attributed his health and longevity to his concoction. The results of some of the experiments he made with the elixir before he perfected it were curious. It killed his favorite cat and took all the lubrication out of his own joints, so that for several days he went about creaking like a gate with rusty hinges. — N. Y. Sun.
The Rosicrucians
Londoner Who Spent His Life Seeking the Philosopher's Stone and the Elixir of Life
The pre-Faraday school of chemistry, the chemistry of the elixir of life and the philosopher's stone, in whose strange nomenclature metals were known by such uncouth names us the "Red Lion," the "Green Serpent," the "Blue Dragon," and invested with mysterious, inexplicable properties, has recently lost one of its last, if not its very last genuine disciple.
His name was George Knox, and he died the other day in London at the age of somewhere about 90 years. For the last 30 years he had lived in the quarter of the city known as St. John's Wood, the last place where one would expect to find a philosopher. The old gentleman, however, knew nothing of the ways of his neighbors and they knew as little of his. Though a cheerful old man and exceedingly active for his years, he lived the life of a hermit, his whole energies being bent on the task of resolving the chemical problems of the middle ages. Mr. Knox used to call himself the "last of the Rosicrucians," and the chief objects of his pursuit were the elixir of life and the philosopher's stone. Three small fortunes he had had left to him at different periods of his life and the whole of two of them and the greater part of the third went into the crucible and the mortar. When a young man he had traveled all over the east, camping with Bedouins and hobnobbing with Brahmins and Tartars, seeking information concerning the recondite and occult.
The latter half of his life was spent in endeavoring to apply the information thus gained. One fortune went in the making of a few small rubies and a commercially valueless diamond. The elixir of life swallowed up the second. Among other processes this latter chimera involved the boiling of a liquid in a crucible for three yours. Up till the day of his death he believed that he had discovered if not the veritable elixir at least something approximating to it, and to the close he attributed his health and longevity to his concoction. The results of some of the experiments he made with the elixir before he perfected it were curious. It killed his favorite cat and took all the lubrication out of his own joints, so that for several days he went about creaking like a gate with rusty hinges. — N. Y. Sun.
Friday, April 20, 2007
No More Great Preachers? Pessimistic View Given
1903
NO MORE GREAT PREACHERS?
Pessimistic View of London Christian Commonwealth on Pulpit Orators.
In an editorial lamenting the passing of Joseph Parker and Hugh Price Hughes, the Christian Commonwealth (London) takes occasion to note "the extraordinary dearth of really able and qualified men from whom successors may be found when famous pulpits lose their occupants." The same paper goes on to say:
"There never was a time since before the Reformation when pulpit eminence was so rare: when orthodox Christianity could produce so small a battalion of magnetic exhorters; when the church could count so few stars of the first magnitude in the theological firmament. The really great preachers amongst the 25,000 clergy could be counted on one hand. There are about as many nonconformist preachers of all denominations in this kingdom. The list of men of great pulpit power in each would be very small indeed — more meager by far than in the time of our fathers, and yet every great denomination is greater today than yesterday. In the days of Spurgeon there were a Punshon, a Vince, a Dale, an Aldis, a Wells, Bickersteth, a Magee, a Hugh Stowell Brown, a Samuel Wilberforce, a Birrell, a McLeod, a Tulloch, a Haycraft, a Guthrie, a Gilfillan, a Brock, a George Dawson — only to specify a few out of a host of men whom people everywhere and anywhere thronged to hear. And in the generation preceding, when the common people knew so little, yet they had a host of grand preachers to whom to listen — Melvill, Robertson, Parsons, Robert Hall, Sortaine, Chalmers, Dillon, Bishop Horsley, Christmas Evans, Williams of Wern, Charles Stovel, Toplady, Daniel Wilson, James Sherman, Hawker, Charles Simeon, Newman and Manning, before their papal perversion, and the potent itinerating leaders who thundered out loud echoes of the message left by John Wesley. Where shall we now look for anything like the number of pre-eminent preachers who in those days made England great, changed it from a colossal sink of corruption, such as Wesley found it, to the world's head center of righteousness and founded the Christian civilization on which we now have to build?"
—Davenport Daily Republican, Davenport, Iowa, March 5, 1903, page 3.
NO MORE GREAT PREACHERS?
Pessimistic View of London Christian Commonwealth on Pulpit Orators.
In an editorial lamenting the passing of Joseph Parker and Hugh Price Hughes, the Christian Commonwealth (London) takes occasion to note "the extraordinary dearth of really able and qualified men from whom successors may be found when famous pulpits lose their occupants." The same paper goes on to say:
"There never was a time since before the Reformation when pulpit eminence was so rare: when orthodox Christianity could produce so small a battalion of magnetic exhorters; when the church could count so few stars of the first magnitude in the theological firmament. The really great preachers amongst the 25,000 clergy could be counted on one hand. There are about as many nonconformist preachers of all denominations in this kingdom. The list of men of great pulpit power in each would be very small indeed — more meager by far than in the time of our fathers, and yet every great denomination is greater today than yesterday. In the days of Spurgeon there were a Punshon, a Vince, a Dale, an Aldis, a Wells, Bickersteth, a Magee, a Hugh Stowell Brown, a Samuel Wilberforce, a Birrell, a McLeod, a Tulloch, a Haycraft, a Guthrie, a Gilfillan, a Brock, a George Dawson — only to specify a few out of a host of men whom people everywhere and anywhere thronged to hear. And in the generation preceding, when the common people knew so little, yet they had a host of grand preachers to whom to listen — Melvill, Robertson, Parsons, Robert Hall, Sortaine, Chalmers, Dillon, Bishop Horsley, Christmas Evans, Williams of Wern, Charles Stovel, Toplady, Daniel Wilson, James Sherman, Hawker, Charles Simeon, Newman and Manning, before their papal perversion, and the potent itinerating leaders who thundered out loud echoes of the message left by John Wesley. Where shall we now look for anything like the number of pre-eminent preachers who in those days made England great, changed it from a colossal sink of corruption, such as Wesley found it, to the world's head center of righteousness and founded the Christian civilization on which we now have to build?"
—Davenport Daily Republican, Davenport, Iowa, March 5, 1903, page 3.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
How Sunday Was Observed in Merry Olde England
1903
OLD ENGLISH SUNDAY
How the Day Was Observed Prior to the English Revolution.
For a considerable period prior to the English revolution Sunday was a day of great festivity and high revelry in the old country. Incredible though it may appear, its observance was governed and ordered by a paradoxical royal declaration, issued by King James I. This document is generally known as "The Book of Sports." In its preamble it recites a royal rebuke, administered to "some Puritans and precise people" for "prohibiting o' unlawful punishing of Our good people for using their lawful Recreations and honest exercises upon Sundayes and other holy days, after the afternoone sermon or service," and then it refers to "the general complaint of our people that they were barred from all lawful Recreation and exercise upon the Sundayes afternoone, which cannot but produce two evils; the one the hindering of the conversion of many, whom their priests will take occasion hereby to vexe, persuading them that no honest mirth or recreation is lawfully or tollerable in our Religion which cannot but breed a great discontentment in our people's hearts; the other inconvenience is that this prohibition barreth the common and meaner sort of people from using such exercises as may make their bodies more able for Warre, when we or our successors shall have occasion to use them."
Then follows the royal mandate "that no lawful Recreation shall be barred to our good People," and "The Bishop and all other inferior Churchmen and Churchwardens" are enjoined to "bee careful and diligent both to instruct the ignorant and convince and reforme them that are misled in religion." "Our pleasure likewise is That the Bishop of the Diocese take the like straight order with all the Puritans and Precisians within the same, either constraining them to conforme themselves, or to leave the country according to the Lawes of Our Kingdome and Canons of our Church." The declaration proceeds to define "lawful Recreation" as "Dancing, either men or women. Archerie for men, leaping, vaulting or any other such harmlesse Recreation, including May games, Witsun-Ales and Morris-dances and the setting up of May poles and other sports therewith used. But withal wee doe here accompt still as prohibited all unlawful games to be used upon Sundays onely, as Beare and Bull baitings, Interludes, and at all times in the feaner sort of People by Law prohibited, Bowling." A penalty was inflicted upon those who did not join in the Sunday sports, and no one could take part in them without first having attended divine service in the parish church, which was also enforced under pain of penalty.
In those days the clergymen would, in obedience to the royal decree, publicly recite the "Book of Sports" from the pulpit; after divine service he, with his church wardens, would proceed with the congregation onto the village green, there to indulge in all kinds of "lawful Recreation." While the sports were going on it was the custom for the parson and his church wardens to retire to the adjoining room.—New York Evening Post.
—Davenport Daily Republican, Davenport, Iowa, March 4, 1903, page 3.
OLD ENGLISH SUNDAY
How the Day Was Observed Prior to the English Revolution.
For a considerable period prior to the English revolution Sunday was a day of great festivity and high revelry in the old country. Incredible though it may appear, its observance was governed and ordered by a paradoxical royal declaration, issued by King James I. This document is generally known as "The Book of Sports." In its preamble it recites a royal rebuke, administered to "some Puritans and precise people" for "prohibiting o' unlawful punishing of Our good people for using their lawful Recreations and honest exercises upon Sundayes and other holy days, after the afternoone sermon or service," and then it refers to "the general complaint of our people that they were barred from all lawful Recreation and exercise upon the Sundayes afternoone, which cannot but produce two evils; the one the hindering of the conversion of many, whom their priests will take occasion hereby to vexe, persuading them that no honest mirth or recreation is lawfully or tollerable in our Religion which cannot but breed a great discontentment in our people's hearts; the other inconvenience is that this prohibition barreth the common and meaner sort of people from using such exercises as may make their bodies more able for Warre, when we or our successors shall have occasion to use them."
Then follows the royal mandate "that no lawful Recreation shall be barred to our good People," and "The Bishop and all other inferior Churchmen and Churchwardens" are enjoined to "bee careful and diligent both to instruct the ignorant and convince and reforme them that are misled in religion." "Our pleasure likewise is That the Bishop of the Diocese take the like straight order with all the Puritans and Precisians within the same, either constraining them to conforme themselves, or to leave the country according to the Lawes of Our Kingdome and Canons of our Church." The declaration proceeds to define "lawful Recreation" as "Dancing, either men or women. Archerie for men, leaping, vaulting or any other such harmlesse Recreation, including May games, Witsun-Ales and Morris-dances and the setting up of May poles and other sports therewith used. But withal wee doe here accompt still as prohibited all unlawful games to be used upon Sundays onely, as Beare and Bull baitings, Interludes, and at all times in the feaner sort of People by Law prohibited, Bowling." A penalty was inflicted upon those who did not join in the Sunday sports, and no one could take part in them without first having attended divine service in the parish church, which was also enforced under pain of penalty.
In those days the clergymen would, in obedience to the royal decree, publicly recite the "Book of Sports" from the pulpit; after divine service he, with his church wardens, would proceed with the congregation onto the village green, there to indulge in all kinds of "lawful Recreation." While the sports were going on it was the custom for the parson and his church wardens to retire to the adjoining room.—New York Evening Post.
—Davenport Daily Republican, Davenport, Iowa, March 4, 1903, page 3.
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