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B  X 

.3^ 


f 


t  LIBKARY  OF  C  ).\Gl!ESS. 


{UNITED  .STATI'S  OF  AMERICA.} 


4 


THE  EMTGEANTS  QUEST.  Front. 


THE 


EMIGRANT'S  QUEST; 

OB, 

"Is  It  Our  Own  Church?" 

M.  E.  BEAUCHAMP. 


"  Thy  holy  Chnrch— the  Church  of  God, 

That  hath  grown  old  in  thee, — 
****** 

At  least  that  holy  Church  is  mine ! 

And  every  hallowed  day, 
I  bend  where  England's  anthems  swell, 

And  hear  old  England  pray  : 
And  England's  old  adoring  rites, 

And  old  lituigic  words, 
Are  mine— but  not  for  England's  sake ; 

I  love  them  as  the  Lord's." 


general  PROTESTANT  EPISCOPAL  SUNDAY  SCHOOL 
UNION  AND  CHURCH  BOOK  SOCIETY, 
762  BROADWAY. 


1867. 


TO  THE 

EEV.  JOSEPH  M.  CLAKKE,  D.  D., 

THIS  LITTLE  BOOK, 
UNDERTAKEN    AT    HIS  SUGGESTION, 
IS  MOST  RESPECTFULLY  LVSCRIBED, 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1867,  by  the 

Gen.  Prot.  Episc.  S.  S.  Union  and  Church  Book  Societt, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States, 
for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


Smith  &  McDougal,  Stereotypers.         C.  A.  Alvokd,  Printer. 


I>  XJ  B  L  I  S  H  E  D 


BY  THE 

SUNDAY  SCHOOL  OFFERINGS 

OP 

ST.  JAMES'  CHURCH, 

Syracuise, 

AND 

ST.  JAMAIS'  CHU^CITy 

Skaneateles, 


"Western  3N".  Y. 


PREFACE. 


A  VALUED  friend  said  to  me,  "I  Tvisli  you 
would  write  a  book  showing  tlie  points  in 
which  the  American  Church  differs  from  that 
of  England."  This  httle  volume  is  the  result 
of  my  attempt  to  comply  with  this  request. 

The  slight  frame-work  of  narrative  is  noth- 
ing more  than  a  means  of  displaying  readily 
and  naturally  the  manner  in  which  various 
matters  connected  with  our  Church  would 
strike  an  ordinarily  intelligent  emigrant,  and 
as,  at  the  time  of  writing  it,  I  had  recently 
returned  from  a  visit  of  a  year  and  a  haK  in 
England,  I  was  more  likely  to  perceive  and 
feel  the  differences  between  the  sister  com- 
munions than  might  otherwise  have  been  the 
case. 

M.  E.  B. 


THE  GENERAL  PEOTESTANT  EriSCOPAL  SUNDAY  SCHOOL 
UNION  AND  CHUPvCH  BOOK  SOCIETY  was  organized  at  a  meeting 
of  the  General  Convention  and  others,  in  November,  1826,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  providing  approved  books  for  Church  Sunday  School  Libraries, 
and  approved  books  of  Instruction  for  Church  Sunday  Schools. 

This  Society  consists  of  the  Bishops  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal 
Church,  of  the  Clergy  of  the  same,  of  the  Lay  Deputies  of  the  General 
Convention,  and  all  other  members  of  the  Chm-ch  who  shall  contribute 
not  less  than  One  Dollar  annually  to  its  funds. 

Every  member  of  the  Church  who  contributes  Thirty  Dollars  in  one 
I>ayment,  is  a  Life  Member;  one  who  contributes  Fifty  Dollars  at  one 
time,  is  an  Honorary  Manager  ;  one  who  contributes  One  Hundred  Dol- 
lars in  on*)  payment,  is  a  Patron  of  the  Society. 

Every  Life  Member  is  entitled  to  Two  Dollars'  worth  of  Books ;  every 
Honorary  Manager  to  Three  and  a  Half  Dollars'  worth  ;  every  Patron  to 
Seven  Dollars'  worth  of  Books.  The  Books  must  be  drawn  each  year, 
as  arrearages  are  not  allowed  to  accumulate. 

Meetings  are  held  triennially,  during  the  session  of  the  General  Con- 
vention. 

The  Board  of  Managers  consists  of  all  the  Bishops,  and  one  hundred 
members  elected  triennially  by  the  Society. 

The  Executive  Committee  consists  of  all  the  Bishops,  and  twelve  Cler- 
ical and  twelve  Lay  members,  elected  annually  by  the  Board  of  Mana- 
gers, who,  together  with  the  Secretary,  Editor,  and  Treasurer,  ex  officio^ 
conduct  the  business  of  the  Society. 

The  Union  publishes  Sunday  School  and  Parish  Library  Books,  Cards, 
Tracts,  Books  of  Family  and  Private  Devotion,  Sunday  School  Requi- 
sites and  Books  of  Instruction :  also  the  Cuildren's  Magazine  and 
Children's  Guest.    Depository,  No.  762  Broadway,  New  York. 

The  Annual  Me^^ting  of  the  Board  of  Managers  Is  held  in  October,  at 
the  time  of  the  meeting  of  the  Board  of  Missions. 

FORM  OF  BEQUEST. 
I  give  and  bequeath  to  "  ST^e  (iJctieial  ^rotcstant  Episcopal  .^un. 
liag  5cf)ool  SLntoii  antj  kTi^urcf)  33aok  ^octets,"  organized  in  the  city 
of  Philadelphia,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  1S26,  and  incorporated  by  th*^ 
Legislature  of  the  State  of  New  York,  April  16, 1854,  the  sum  of  

Dollars,  to  be  applied  to  the  uses  and  purposes  of  said  Society . 


SOLIOITATIOIfS. 


Every  Churchman,  and  every  Churchwoman 
tlironghout  the  United  States  and  the  Canadas,  is 
solicited  to  become  a  member  of  this  Society,  either 
by  annual  subscription,  or  by  being  made  a  Life 
Member,  or  an  Honorary  Member,  or  a  Patron. 
Payment  may  be  made  to  the  Agent,  E.  M.  Duncan, 
or  sent,  addressed  to  the  Treasurer,  E.  Haight,  Esq.. 
No.  162  Broadway,  IS".  Y. 

For  terms  of  Membership,  see  preceding  page. 


CHAPTEE  I. 

mXRODUCTOEY. 

Y  father  was  a  surgeon,  residing  in 
the  pleasant  little  English  village 
of  Croscombe,  of  which  he  had  the 
entire  medical  practice.  This  had 
been  considerable  enough  to  enable  him  to 
live,  in  much  comfort,  in  one  of  the  best 
houses  of  the  place,  and  to  bring  up  a  large 
family  very  respectably.  This,  however, 
was  nearly  all.  There  had  been  little  laid 
by,  and  it  caused  some  perplexity  when,  our 
school-days  being  over,  it  seemed  necessary 
to  plan  out  our  future — to  know  what  to  do 
with  us  all. 

My  eldest  brother  was  destined  to  be  my 
father's  assistant,  and  ultimate  successor,  in 
his  business,  and  the  next  eldest  had  been  of- 
fered a  place  in  the  counting-house  of  a  distant 


10 


THE  EMIGEANT'S"  QUEST. 


relative.  I  wisked  to  be  articled  to  an  attor- 
ney, but  my  father  shook  his  head.  He  did 
not  like  the  profession^  and  besides,  he  conld 
not  aflbrd  the  premium ;  I  must  decide  on 
something  eke.  But  as  nothing  else  olfered 
any  attractions  to  my  mind,  and  my  father 
did  not  meet  with  any  opportunity  of  placing 
me  out  to  his  own  satisfaction,  I  was  allowed 
to  make  my  home  with  an  uncle,  who  farmed 
a  portion  of  a  large  estate  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, till  I  had  acquired  a  decided  taste  for 
agricultural  pursuits. 

My  father  fretted  at  my  waste  of  time ; 
but,  as  nothing  better  offered,  was  the  more 
easily  satisfied  with  my  being  sufficiently 
employed  to  be  kept  out  of  harm's  way,  and 
when  at  length  I  had  determined  on  follow- 
ing my  uncle's  example  in  the  choice  of  an 
avocation,  he  gave  a  not  very  reluctant 
assent. 

At  the  age  of  twenty- four  I  was  married, 
and  settled  on  a  farm,' which  my  father  had 
assisted  me  in  renting,  and  which  I  looked 
upon  as  my  home  for  life.  Strong  local  at- 
tachments are  perhaps  more  common  to  the 
English  than  to  Americans,  and  to  this  hour 
I  cannot  think  without  tears  of  the  long, 
low-browed  farm-house,  in  which  my  children 


INTRODUCTORY. 


II 


first  saw  the  light.  It  was  a  very  homely 
building — at  least  my  readers  would  think  it 
so — though  we  thought  it  a  very  substantial 
and  respectable  abode.  It  might  hare  been 
two  hundred  years  old,  and  houses  were  not 
built  in  the  modern  style  two  centuries  ago. 

Each  of  the  three  gables  of  the  front  con- 
tained a  window,  half  hidden  in  the  project- 
ing thatch.  These  windows  were  casements 
(there  was  not  a  sash-window  in  the  house), 
and  were  made  of  very  small,  diamond- 
shaped  panes  of  glass,  set  in  frames  of  lead. 
The  rooms  were  large  and  low.  The  parlor 
was  not  seven  feet  high,  and  it  had  a  large, 
square  beam  running  across  the  ceiling, 
which  must  have  taken  eight  or  ten  inches 
from  even  this  height.  This  was  the  only 
room  in  the  house  that  boasted  of  a  carpet 
and  mahogany  furniture.  The  floors  were 
of  stone  in  the  lower  rooms,  but  in  the  upper 
apartments  they  were  of  wood,  kept  marvel- 
lously clean  and  white  by  frequent  scrubbing. 
Everything  about  the  farm-house  at  Way- 
wick,  always  seemed  as  clean  as  hands  could 
make  it,  and  the  very  air  seemed  purer 
within  its  walls  than  elsewhere. 

My  wife  was  a  nice  little  woman  ;  a  farm- 
er's daughter,  who  had  passed  through  the 


12 


THE  emigrant's  QUEST. 


ordeal  of  a  year  and  a  half  at  boarding- 
school,  without  losing  her  relish  for  domestic 
duties.  I  never  found  but  that  her  dairy 
was  just  as  well  managed  as  if  she  had  never 
touched  a  piano,  or  filled  a  drawing-book; 
and  certainly  the  gorgeous  ottoman  covers, 
that  adorned  our  parlor,  had  not  monopo- 
lized any  of  the  finger-skill  requisite  for  mak- 
ing shirts  and  darning  stockings. 

Many,  very  many  happy  years  passed  by, 
as  we  dwelt  in  Waywick.  Children  were 
born  to  us,  and  friends  increased  about  us. 
It  seemed  as  if  we  had  taken  root  in  the  land, 
and  we  thankfully  felt  that  the  lines  had  fal- 
len to  us  in  pleasant  places — that  ours  was 
indeed  a  goodly  heritage.  But  a  change  was 
at  hand.  Nothing  very  alarming  was  to  hap- 
pen, and  yet  the  whole  course  of  our  lives  was 
to  be  turned  out  of  its  present  channel.  In- 
stead of  pursuing  the  even  tenor  of  our  way 
in  our  peaceful  and  quiet  home,  the  violent 
shock  of  being  torn  away  from  its  familiar 
loveliness,  the  shock  of  removal  and  emigra- 
tion, was  before  us. 

Our  farm  was  life-hold  property,  and,  as 
one  of  the  lives  had  lately  dropped,  I  went 
to  my  landlord  to  negotiate  the  terms  of  hav- 
ing a  new  life  put  in  ;  but,  to  my  constema- 


IXTF.ODUCTORY. 


13 


tion,  Mr.  Langton  declined  renewing  on  any 
terms.  He  wished  to  have  the  estate  in  his 
own  hands,  and  should  allow  the  leases  to  run 
out. 

"  But  that  need  not  trouble  yoUj  Grey," 
said  he,  seeing  me  look  very  blank,  "  the  farm 
may  be  yours  for  years  yet.  There  are  still 
two  good  lives  upon  it  ;  lives  as  good  as 
yours  or  mine  may  be." 

I  felt  very  little  cheered,  for  I  knew  that 
old  Ruth  Perry  had  been  ailing  unusually  of 
late,  and  Mark  Elwood  (the  other  life),  was 
a  dissolute  young  fellow,  whose  health  was 
already  beginning  to  break.  So  it  was  in  a 
somewhat  moody  state,  that  I  plodded  home- 
wards. It  was  early  in  December,  and  as  I 
rode  along,  I  heard  the  faint,  sweet  voices  of 
distant  bells  from  the  surrounding  parishes, 
reminding  me  that  the  season  of  Advent  had 
begun,  and  that  the  bell-ringers  were  "  ring- 
ing in  Christmas."  How  clear  and  silvery 
the  hallelujahs  of  those  sacred  bells. 

"  From  bin  to  hill,  like  sentinels, 
Responsively  they  cry." 

I  little  thought  at  the  time,  that  I  should 
never  again  hear  those  sweet  chimes  filling 
the  air  with  their  "  melodious  jangling,"  and 
welcoming  a  Saviour's  birth. 


14 


THE  EMIGRANT'S  QUE-ST. 


It  was  with  new  interest,  that  we  sent  the 
next  day  to  inquire  after  the  health  of  Dame 
Perry,  and  the  answer  that  she  was  failing, 
and  that  ^'  the  parson  came  to  see  her  every 
day,"  did  not  tend  to  raise  our  spirits. 

But  there  is  no  necessity  for  going  into  de- 
tails. Suffice  it  to  say,  that  before  the  next 
midsummer  our  farm  had  reverted  to  our 
landlord,  and  we  had  resolved  on  emigrating 
to  the  United  States  of  America. 


CHAPTEE  II. 


FIEST  SriTDAY  IN  AMERICA. 

PASS  over  the  painful  seasons  of 
leave-taking  and  removal,  with  all 
their  sad  accompaniments.  The 
disruption  of  nearly  all  the  ties 
that  bound  us  to  the  earth  and  to  our  race, 
vras  included  in  the  necsesary  pains  of  exile. 
Our  parents — our  friends — our  home  ; — the 
church  in  v^hich  we  had  been  sprinkled  with 
pure  water  in  our  infancy,  in  which  we  had 
plighted  the  vows  of  wedlock,  in  which  we 
had  statedly  worshipped  the  God  of  our  fa- 
thers, and  in  which  we  had  presented  our 
little  ones  to  the  Lord — the  church-yard, 
where,  in  the  shadow  of  the  great  yew-tree, 
slept  our  fore-fathers  for  many  generations, 
and  where  our  own  dear  parents  would  lay 
them  down  to  rest  when  their  summons 
should  come — all  must  be  left,  and  perhaps 
to  be  seen  by  us  no  more  forever ! 

What  wonder  that  our  hearts  were  heavy, 


16 


THE  EMIGRANT'S  QUEST. 


and  that  we  would  have  been  willing,  but  for 
incurring  thereby  the  charge  of  fickleness,  to 
give  up  our  plans  for  a  trans-atlantic  home, 
and  to  remain  contentedly  in  the  land  in 
which  God  had  placed  us. 

But,  passing  over  all  these  topics,  I  pro- 
ceed with  my  narrative  from  the  date  of  our 
landing  in  New  York,  early  in  September. 
We  were  fortunate  enough  to  secure  a  very 
pleasant  boarding-place,  at  which  the  family 
were  to  remain  for  a  few  days,  while  I  went 
up  the  river,  to  see  a  part  of  the  country 
which  had  been  recommended  to  me  as  very 
healthy,  and  particularly  rich  in  farming 
lands. 

"  To-morrow  will  be  Sunday,"  said  my  wife, 
as  we  sat  around  the  tea-table  in  the  evening. 
"  I  wonder  if  the  parish  church  is  near  at 
hand?  The  sea-sickness  has  left  me  so  Vvcak, 
that  I  am  hardly  equal  to  a  long  walk." 

I  inquired  of  our  hostess,  who  seemed 
much  puzzled  by  the  inquiry.  She  belonged 
to  the  Dutch  Keformed  Church,  she  said, 
and  obligingly  directed  me  where  to  find  it. 
"  But  perhaps  you'd  rather  go  to  the  Episco- 
pal or  the  Methodist,"  she  continued;  "Eng- 
lish people  generally  go  to  one  or  the  other." 

I  thanked  her,  and  felt  somewhat  puzzled 


FIRST  SUNDAY  IN  AMERICA.  17 


in  my  turn.  I  knew  very  little  of  the  re- 
ligious state  of  the  country,  excepting  that  I 
had  always  understood  that  all  the  bodies  of 
Christians  to  be  found  in  England,  were  rep- 
resented here ;  and  of  course,  I  expected  to 
find  the  English  Church  prominent  among 
them.  I  hesitated  a  little,  before  asking  if  an 
English  Prayer-book  would  do  to  use. 

"  Oh  yes,  I  guess  so  ; "  replied  the  good 
lady.  "I  don't  know  much  about  the  Epis- 
copalians, but  they  use  Prayer-books ;  I  know 
that  much."  And  hereupon  Mrs  Ten-Eyck 
proceeded  to  direct  me  to  the  nearest  Episco- 
pal church. 

My  wife,  though  enfeebled  by  sea-sickness, 
and  still  dizzy  from  the  motion  of  the  ship, 
resolved  to  accompany  me,  though  the  walk 
was  not  a  short  one.  We  left  the  children 
under  the  care  of  Edward,  their  eldest 
brother,  and  when  the  bells  struck  up  on 
Sunday  morning  we  sat  ofl'  to  find  a  place 
in  which  to  worship. 

It  was  a  very  handsome  edifice  which  we 
entered,  but,  though  of  Gothic  architecture, 
it  was  hardly  church-like.  There  was  too 
much  of  upholstery,  perlmps ;  certainly  the 
decorations  were  too  obtrusively  rich  and 
gaudy  to  harmonize  with  one's  idea  of  the 


18 


THE  EMIGRANT'S  QUEST. 


solemnity  of  a  lioly  place.  Nor  did  the 
gathering  congregation  bear  altogether  the 
aspect  of  a  worshipping  assembly :  jewels 
glittered  and  fans  fluttered  in  every  direc- 
tion, and  the  gaily  dressed  young  ladies,  who 
came  sailing  up  the  alleys  of  the  church, 
might  have  been  entering  a  concert-room,  for 
all  that  their  deportment  testified  of  reveren- 
tial feeling.  Some  were  even  whispering 
and  giggling  together  till  after  they  had 
taken  their  places  in  the  richly-cushioned 
pews,  and  their  indecorum  (to  call  it  by  no 
worse  a  name)  annoyed  me  so  much  that  I 
found  it  difficult  to  keep  my  mind  employed 
in  a  manner  suitable  to  the  time  and  place, 
till  the  commencement  of  the  service  claimed 
my  full  attention. 

As  we  left  the  church,  my  wife  exclaimed : 
"  How  delightful !    It  seems  like  being  at 
home,  to  go  to  church  again." 

"  And  I  never  felt  less  at  home  in  my 
life,"  said  I,  a  little  out  of  humor  with  my- 
self ;  "  somehow  it  did  not  seem  like  a  church 
to  me." 

"  No,"  rejoined  my  wife,  "  I  don't  tliink  it 
can  be  a  parish  church.  It  looked  more  like 
a  chapel  of  ease — a  proprietary  chapel  I 
mean — and  I  should  not  wonder  if  it  was 


FIKST  SUNDAY  IN  AMERICA. 


19 


one.  There  were  no  poor  people  there,  you 
knov/,  and  they  had  four  or  five  persons  to 
do  all  the  singing,  just  as  they  used  to  in  Mr. 
Ashley's  chapel  in  London.  But  then,  after 
all,  there  was  the  dear  old  service,  and  a 
good  sermon,  and  it  seems  pleasant  to  find 
one's  own  Church  in  a  strange  land." 

"  Very  true,"  said  I ;  but  in  mj  heart 
there  was  an  unexpressed  doubt  w^hether  this 
should  prove  to  be  ou?'  own  Church  after  all. 

On  this  point,  however,  I  resolved  to  keep 
my  doubts  to  myself,  till  I  had  had  time  and 
opportunity  to  form  a  fair  opinion ;  and, 
taking  the  two  elder  children  with  me,  went 

in  the  evening  to    church,  whose 

chimes  had  attracted  my  attention  in  the 
morning. 

The  congregation  was  composed  of  very 
different  materials  from  that  in  which  I  had 
found  myself  in  the  morning.  There  was  a 
much  larger  proportion  of  men,  and  there 
w^as  less  of  finery  and  display  to  offend  the 
eye,  but  I  could  not  say  that  there  was  much 
more  to  indicate  an  assemblage  of  worship- 
pers. There  was  quietness,  but  not  the  still- 
ness of  reverence,  and  many  of  those  in  our 
immediate  vicinity  seemed  to  have  come  out 
of  mere  curiosity,  and  to  be  more  engaged  in 


20 


THE  E3IIGKAXT's  QUEST. 


looking  at  the  build ing,  than  in  thinking  of 
the  uses  for  which  it  was  designed. 

As  the  service  commenced,  however,  and 
the  full,  varied  responses  rose  from  all  parts 
of  the  noble  edifice,  I  forgot  for  a  while  that 
there  was  anything  uncongenial  in  the  con- 
gregation, and  only  felt  a  little  annoyed,  when 
a  man,  who  sat  nearest  the  wall  in  our  seat, 
pushed  by  us  all  to  leave  the  church,  just  as 
we  were  about  to  kneel  for  the  prayers  after 
the  Creed. 

Many  of  those  around  us  sat  during  the 
entire  service.  Some  did  not  use  their 
Prayer-books  at  all ;  others  opened  them, 
but  did  not  join  in  the  service.  We  were 
glad  to  avail  ourselves  of  the  books  with 
which  the  seat  was  supplied,  as  I  had  foand, 
by  my  morning's  experience,  that  our  Eng- 
lish books  differed  sufficiently  from  the  Ame- 
rican to  make  it  unsafe  for  us  to  join  audibly 
in  the  services.  As  we  were  early,  we  occu- 
pied ourselves  in  noting  these  differences  be- 
fore the  service  commenced. 

As  in  the  morning,  we  had  an  excellent 
sermon,  and  I  was  inclined  to  suspect  then, 
what  I  afterwards  found  to  be  the  case,  that 
the  American  clergy  are,  in  general,  better 
pulpit-orators  than  their  English  brethren. 


FIRST  SUNDAY  IN  AMERICA.  21 

They  are  more  animated,  and  have  less  man- 
nerism. Their  sermons  are  usually  more  elab- 
orate than  I  had  been  in  the  habit  of  hearing ; 
less  simple  and  practical,  but  with  more 
depth  of  thought  and  originality  of  expres- 
sion. 

It  was  late  w^hen  we  reached  home,  and  we 
were  too  tired  to  talk  over  what  we  had  seen 
and  heard  ;  only  Jenny  said,  as  she  took  off 
her  bonnet : 

"  Mother,  they  did  not  sing  the  Evening 
Hymn  to-night." 

"  I  have  been  in  some  churches  where  they 
do  not,"  replied  her  mother  ;  "  but  we  will 
have  it  now,  before  we  part  for  the  night." 

So  hearts  and  voices  joined  in  the  earnest 
hymn  of  good  Bishop  Ken,  w^hich  had  con- 
cluded the  evening  service  in  the  parish  of 
Croscombe  ever  since  I  could  remember,  and 
peacefully  we  went  to  our  slumbers,  with  its 
holy  strains  still  soothing  our  minds. 


CHAPTEE  III. 


OUR  NEIGHBOES  IN  THE  COrNTRY. 

HE  next  fortniglit  was  spent  by  me 
at  a  distance  from  my  family  ;  nor 
was  it  till  I  had  settled  on  a  future 
home  for  them,  that  I  returned  to 
l^ew  York. 

I  rejoined  them  in  very  good  spirits,  for  I 
had  bought  an  excellent  farm,  at  a  bargain,  of 
a  young  man  who  had  just  inherited  it  from 
his  fether,  and  was  in  haste  to  turn  it  into 
cash,  with  which  he  proposed  to  buy  a  farm 
of  six  times  the  size,  in  Wisconsin  or  Iowa. 
I  had  never  before  estimated  the  importance 
of  ready  money.  I  was  not  a  rich  man,  but 
my  property  was,  I  found,  greatly  increased 
by  having  been  converted  into  the  circulating 
medium.  But  for  having  it  in  my  power  to 
pay  down  the  sum  demanded,  I  could  not 
have  purchased  this  property  for  three  times 
the  price  now  asked  for  it,  which  is  the  same 
as  saying  that  it  would  have  been  hopelessly 
out  of  my  reach. 


OUR  liTEIGHBORS  IN  THE  COUOTEY.  23 


It  was  a  pleasant,  and,  as  I  was  informed, 
a  very  liealthy  spot.  There  were  several 
neighbors,  and  a  school-house  within  a  mile  ; 
and  a  village,  only  four  miles  distant,  was 
well  supplied  with  places  of  worship,  amongst 
which  was  an  Episcopal  church, 

I  need  not  say  that  we  were  delighted  at 
being  settled.  After  the  discomforts  of  a 
sea-voyage,  and  a  crowded  New  York  board- 
ing-house, any  kind  of  a  home  would  have 
been  welcomed,  and  the  change  from  our 
confined  apartments  in  the  city  to  the  large, 
airy  farm-house,  was  charming.  The  little 
ones  seemed  almost  crazy  over  their  recov- 
ered freedom,  and  my  wife  heaved  a  sigh  of 
relief,  as  she  unpacked  the  chests,  in  which 
she  was  no  longer  obliged  to  find  room  for 
all  the  clothing  of  the  family. 

"  God  has  been  very  good  to  us,  my 
dears,"  she  said  occasionally,  as  the  children 
came  running  to  her,  with  noisy  exclama- 
tions of  delight.  "  God  has  been  very  good 
to  us,  and  I  trust  that  lie  will  bless  us  in 
this  new  home  of  ours." 

I  knew  that  she  was  comparing  it,  in  her 
own  mind,  with  Waywick. 

"  Waywick  was  better  than  this,  my  dear," 
said  Ij  "  but  you  must  remember  that  there 


24 


THE  emigrant's  QL'EST. 


"we  were  only  tenants,  while  this  place  is  our 
own." 

"  Yes,  Edward ;  that  is  just  what  I  was 
thinking.  If  it  pleases  God  to  give  us  health, 
we  may  be  very  happy  here." 

Before  we  were  fairly  settled  in  onr  new 
home,  the  neighbors  began  to  call  upon  ns. 
First  came  a  Mrs.  Hibbard,  onr  nearest 
neighbor  on  the  right  hand.  She  and  her 
husband  were  English,  and  had  been  in  the 
States  but  a  few  years. 

"  Seeing  as  yon  was  from  the  old  country," 
said  she  to  my  wife,  I  thought  I'd  make 
bold  to  call  pretty  early,  that  I  might  help  a 
little  about  getting  things  to  rights.  But 
seems  to  me  it's  all  done.  You  look  as  if 
you'd  been  settled  here  a  year.  Ah  !  it's  a 
terrible  piece  of  work,  this  moving  with  a 
family  !  Nobody  knows  what  'tis  like  but 
them  as  have  tried  it." 

"  I  have  found  it  a  great  trial,"  said  my 
wife,  but  I  hope  the  worst  is  now  over,  and 
we  shall  begin  to  feel  settled  again." 

"  IsOy  ma'am,  the  worst  is  not  over  yet ; 
you'll  be  homesick  for  a  year  to  come,  and 
wish  yourself  back  in  the  old  country  twenty 
times  a  day.  Sometimes  it'll  seem  to  you  as 
if  you  would  die  to  see  your  home  again. 


OUR  NEIGHBORS  1^  THE  COrNTRY.  25 


Ah  !  I  know  wliat  it  is,  for  I've  been  through 
it,  and  nobody  knows,  but  them  as  has  tried, 
what  a  dreary,  heart-sick  time  it  is,  when  a 
poor  woman  has  to  make  her  home  among 
strangers." 

"  But,"  said  my  wife,  a  little  dismayed, 
"  you  like  America  now,  don't  you,  Mrs. 
Hibbard  ?" 

"  Bless  you,  yes,  that  I  do.  I  wouldn't 
go  back  now,  unless  'twere  just  for  a  yisit. 
Where  one's  family  is,  is  a  woman's  home ; 
and  we  soon  get  to  be  fond  of  our  home, 
wherever  it  is." 

"  And  this  is  a  pleasant  neighborhood," 
said  my  wife. 

'Tis  very  pleasant,  and  you've  a  good 
farm.  We've  good  neighbors,  too,  as  any- 
body could  wish  to  have.  Eight  opposite  from 
us  is  Deacon  Warner's  house.  They're  Bap- 
tists, you  know,  and  they  are  downright  good 
folks  too.  Mrs.  Warner  is  one  of  the  sort 
that's  so  good  in  sickness.  My  youngest  girl 
had  the  fever  pretty  bad,  when  we  first  come 
here ;  and  Mrs.  Warner  nursed  her  up,  and  did 
her  more  good  than  the  doctor.  Then  there 
is  Squire  Bowen.  He  lives  ofi*  next  house 
but  one,  the  other  side  of  you.  He's  Episco- 
pal ;  but  I  believe  he's  a  real  good  man.  He 
3 


26 


THE  EMIGKANT'3  QUEST. 


brouglit  ITS  a  load  of  firewood,  tlie  first  win- 
ter we  was  here,  when  we  was  pretty  badly 
off." 

"  I  suppose,  then,  yon  are  not  an  Episco- 
palian," said  my  wife,  somewhat  amused  at 
the  tone  of  her  visitor. 

"  No,  indeed  !    Be  you  ?" 

"  I  suppose  so,  if  the  Episcopal  Church  is 
the  same  as  the  Church  of  England." 

"  Well,"  remarked  Mrs.  Hibbard,  patron- 
izingly ;  "  I  hain't  got  nothing  to  say  against 
Church  people.  I  believe  there's  good  and 
bad  in  all,  and  a  good  Churchman '11  be 
saved  just  as  soon  as  a  good  Methodist.  I 
ain't  noways  uncharitable.  Some  folks  think 
no  one  can  be  saved  unless  he  is  of  their 
way  of  thinking,  but  I  ain't  one  of  that  kind ; 
I  believe  in  charity." 

"  If  charity  consists  in  believing  that  peo- 
ple will  be  saved,"  said  I,  "  it  seems  to  me 
that  it  cannot  be  perfect  unless  we  believe 
that  all  men  will  be  saved." 

"  Why  not,  Mr.  Grey  ?  That  would  be 
going  clear  against  the  Scriptures." 

"  Why,  Mrs.  Hibbard,  we  ought  to  have 
charity  for  all  mankind,  and  so  we  must  (if 
your  test  of  charity  is  correct)  believe  that  all 


OUB  NEIGHBORS  IIST  THE  COUNTRY. 


27 


will  be  saved,  whicli,  as  you  justly  observe, 
is  contrary  to  the  Scriptures." 

"  Well,  now,"  said  Mrs.  Hibbard,  "  I  de- 
clare, that  never  struck  me  before.  But  what 
is  charity,  then  ?" 

"  I  don't  think  it  has  so  much  to  do  with 
our  belief  as  with  our  feelings  and  actions," 
I  replied.  "  I  may,  for  instance,  believe  a 
man  to  be  very  wicked,  and  yet  not  be  un- 
charitable." 

"  No,"  responded  Mrs.  Hibbard,  half  as- 
sent ingly,  half  inquiringly  ;  "  we  can't  help 
believing  some  people  are  bad,  when  we 
know  it,  I  suppose." 

"  And  yet,"  continued  I,  "  we  may  be  full 
of  charity  towards  those  we  believe  to  be 
bad,  if  we  love  them,  and  try  to  do  them 
good." 

"  Well,  that's  queer,"  said  Mrs.  Hibbard  ; 
"  but,  after  all,  I  don't  know  but  you're 
about  right." 

"  But,"  interposed  my  wife,  "  we  are  inter- 
rupting Mrs.  Hibbard's  account  of  our  neigh- 
bors, and  I  am  very  much  interested  in  hear- 
ing all  I  can  about  them." 

"  Let  me  see,"  resumed  Mrs.  Hibbard ; 
"  Deacon  Warner's  people,  and  Squire  Bow- 
en's — then  there  is   Colonel  Adams,  lives 


28 


THE  emigrant's  QUEST. 


right  opposite  to  Squire  Bowen's.  They're 
gay  sort  of  folks,  at  least  the  young  ones  are, 
and  they  don't  profess  much  in  the  way  of 
religion.  Sometimes  they  go  to  the  Presby- 
terian meeting,  and  sometimes  to  the  Episco- 
pal— -just  as  happens.  Guess  they  don't  get 
much  good  any^\^heres.  Oh  !  I  forgot  to  tell 
you  that  the  Aliens  live  in  that  little  brown 
house  between  yours  and  the  Squire's.  Jim 
Allen  is  a  poor  drunken  coot,  and  his  wife 
has  to  manage  every  thing,  in-doors  and  out. 
She  was  brought  up  amongst  the  Universal- 
ists,  and  never  goes  anyAvhere  herself,  nor 
will  let  the  children,  so  they're  growing  up  a 
set  of  little  heathens.  They're  the  worst 
neighbors  about  here,  Mrs.  Grey,  and  as  you 
have  to  live  next  house  to  them,  you  may  be 
thankful  that  your  houses  are  a  good  way 
apart." 

"  I  wish  they  were  farther  off,  however," 
said  my  wife.  "  But,  perhaps,  they  won't 
trouble  us." 

"  Then,  just  round  the  corner,  by  the 
school-house,"  resumed  our  visitor,  "  there's 
a  very  pretty,  tasty  place.  That's  where 
Jacob  Barker  lives.  They're  good  neigh- 
bors, I  can  tell  you,  Mrs.  Grey  ;  and  I  know 
you'll  be  pleased  with  Mrs.  Barker.  I've 


OUR  NEIGHBORS  IN  THE  COUNTRY.  29 


washed  for  her  two  or  three  times,  so  I  know 
something  about  her  kind,  pleasant  ways. 
They  are  Quakers,  and  so  are  the  next 
neighbors — the  Priors  ;  but  the  Barkers  are 
Orthodox,  and  the  Priors  are  Hicksites — so 
they  don't  fellowship,  you  see.  Then,  there's 
Squire  Everett's  folks — they're  Presbyterians. 
There's  a  large  family,  and  they're  pretty 
strait-laced  at  home,  but  folks  say  as  they're 
the  wildest  youngsters  round  when  they  get 
out  of  sight  of  their  father  and  mother. 
Then,  I'd  almost  forgot  Elder  Carter,  and  he 
wouldn't  like  to  be  forgot  neither ;  for,  go 
where  he  may,  he  always  thinks  himself  the 
biggest  frog  in  the  puddle.  But  we've  all 
our  failings,  and  I  suppose  that's  his.  He's 
a  kind  of  leader  among  the  Congregational- 
ists  (the  same  as  what  they  call  Indepen- 
dents in  the  old  country),  and  that's  why 
they  call  him  elder.  There's  another  Elder 
Carter  about  here,  but  he's  a  Free  Will  Bap- 
tist, and  we  don't  reckon  him  among  the 
neighbors,  because  he  lives  on  the  upper 
road.  Folks  generally  call  him  Elder  Ama- 
sa,  and  our  Elder  Carter  is  Elder  Ebenezer. 
The  Fitzgeralds  live  in  a  little  tenant-house 
of  his.  They're  Irish,  you  know,  and  Cath- 
olics,— poor,  ignorant  creatures,  but  not  as 


30 


THE  emigrant's  QUEST. 


bad  as  might  be.  They're  sober  and  indus- 
trious, thougli  folks  give  tliem  the  character 
of  looking  out  pretty  well  for  their  own  side. 
Take  it  altogether,  Mrs.  Grey,  you  might 
have  worse  neighbors  than  you  have.  If 
two  or  three  are  not  quite  up  to  the  mark, 
some  of  the  others  are  good  enough  to  make 
all  even." 

"Did  you  ever  hear  anything  like  it?" 
said  my  wife,  when  our  loquacious,  but  kind- 
hearted  neighbor  had  taken  her  departure. 
"  Eight  or  ten  different  religious  bodies  re- 
presented by  the  settlers  in  a  little  country 
neighborhood !" 


CHAPTEE  ly. 


DIFFERENCE  IN  CHURCH  USAGES. 

HANKSGIYING-DAY  had  come, 
and,  like  my  neighbors,  I  "  har- 
nessed np,"  and  took  my  family  to 
the  village,  to  join  in  the  religious 
services  of  the  day. 

Our  little  church  was  not  very  full,  but 
there  was  a  tolerable  congregation,  though 
consisting  more  of  the  villagers  than  of  the 
agricultural  population,  for  whom  the  ser- 
vices of  the  day  seemed  particularly  de- 
signed. It  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever 
joined  in  a  service  of  this  kind,  and  I 
was  extremely  well  pleased  with  every  part 
of  it.  The  opening  sentences,  the  lessons, 
the  hymns — everything  about  it,  in  short, 
was  so  strikingly  appropriate,  that  I  could 
not  imagine  in  what  manner  any  part  of  it 
could  be  altered  for  the  better. 

AVe  were  talking  it  over,  after  returning 
home. 


32 


THE  EMIGEAXT's  QrEST. 


"  The  service  is  not  in  our  old  Prayer- 
books,"  said  Edward. 

"  And  the  Restoration,  and  Accession,  and 
Gunpowder  Plot  are  not  in  onr  new  ones," 
said  Jane.    "  Why  are  they  all  left  out  ?" 

"  Because,"  said  I,  "  they  all  have  refer- 
ence to  the  English  government,  and  would 
not  be  suitable  in  this  country." 

"  But  there  are  a  great  many  things  al- 
tered that  don't  have  anytliing  to  do  with 
the  government,"  said  Edward. 

"  Yes,"  added  Albert,  "  they  don't  have 
the  same  chants.  The  song  of  Simeon  and 
the  sono;  of  the  Yiro-in  are  left  out,  and  there 
are  only  four  verses  left  of  the  song  of  Zach- 
arias." 

"  Those  lines  on  St.  Luke's  Day  in  my 
'  Christian  Year,'  would  hardly  be  true  in 
this  country,  would  they  ? 

"  *  And  taught  by  thee,  the  Church  prolongs 
Her  hynms  of  high  thanksgiving  still.' " 

"  But,"  said  I,  in  reply  to  this  remark  of 
my  wife,  "  I  don't  know  but  that  those 
which  are  substituted  for  them  are  more  ap- 
propriate to  the  ordinary  occasions  of  public 
worship." 

"  Yery  true/'  said  my  wife,  "  I  have  no 


DIFFERENCE  IN  CHUKCH  USAGES.  33 


fault  to  find  with  the  change,  nor  do  I  object 
to  the  leaving  out  of  the  Athanasian  Creed, 
though  one  misses  some  parts  of  it  very 
much.  I  never  could  bear  to  respond  to  the 
first  clause,  and  am  very  glad  not  to  be 
called  upon  to  do  it." 

"  The  Commination  Service  is  also  omit- 
ted, I  have  observed.  Like  the  Creed  of  St. 
Athanasius,  I  cannot  help  regretting  some 
portions,  but  on  the  whole  I  think  the  omis- 
sion is  wdse.  Well,  Jenny,  do  you  find  any 
more  differences  betw^een  your  old  Prayer- 
book  and  your  new  one  ?" 

"  Yes,  papa,  a  great  many.  They  don't 
read  the  whole  of  the  Litany  here." 

"  No,  my  dear,  but  it  is  in  the  book.  Per- 
haps they  read  it  during  Lent." 

'^Well,  another  thing  is,  they  don't  read 
the  same  lessons.  I  should  not  have  noticed 
that  but  for  reading  every  Sunday  in  the 
'  Christian  Year,'  that  Aunt  Julia  gave  me, 
and  I  found  that  the  pieces  did  not  always 
suit." 

Well,"  said  I,  "  I  am  glad  we  have  found 
nothing  to  object  to  in  the  alterations  that 
have  been  made  in  the  Prayer-book.  It 
seems  to  me  that  they  are  wise  and  expedient, 


34 


THE  EMIGEAXt's  QUEST. 


and  I  have  no  fault  to  find  with  the  Ameri- 
can Chnreh  on  that  score." 

"O  papa,"  cried  Jane  suddenly,  '•may 
we  go  to  Sunday  School  ?  A  lady  asked  me 
to-day,  as  we  were  coming  out  of  church,  if 
I  wouldn't  be  in  her  class." 

You  go  to  Sunday  School  indeed !  "  said 
I,  very  angrily.  I  wonder  what  next  you 
will  want  to  do !" 

"My  dear,"  interposed  my  wife,  gently, 
"  I  fancy  that  Sunday  Schools  here  are  dif- 
ferent from  what  they  are  at  home.  All 
the  children  go  to  them,  and  not  the  poor 
children  only." 

"  My  children  shall  not  go,"  said  I,  decid- 
edly. A  pretty  story  tliat  would  be  to  get 
back  to  England — that,  before  we  had  been 
in  America  six  months,  the  children  were 
going  to  Sunday  School !  I  don't  know 
what  my  father  would  say  to  such  news." 

It  was  a  very  foolish  speech  of  mine,  and 
yet  I  should,  even  now,  have  something  of 
the  same  feeling,  thoug'h  I  trust  from  wiser 
motives.  The  relioious  instruction  of  chil- 
dren  is  peculiarly  a  parent's  duty,  and  I  have 
had  reason  to  notice  that  parents  are  very 
apt  to  forget  that  it  is  a  duty  which  cannot 
be  delegated  to  others.    When  they  send 


DIFFEKENCE  m  CHUECH  USAGES.  35 


their  cliildren  to  Sunday  School,  it  is  too 
often  the  case,  that  they  think  that  all  that 
is  necessary  is  done  for  them  by  the  Sunday 
School  teachers,  who  are  frequently  inexpe- 
rienced young  people,  and  whose  personal 
intercourse  with  their  pupils  is  usually  limit- 
ed to  an  hour  in  a  week.  It  might  be  dif- 
ferent, I  admit.  The  Sunday  School  might 
be  a  valuable  auxiliary  to  the  faithful  parent, 
and,  doubtless,  in  many  instances  this  is  the 
case.  But  it  is  also  a  temptation  to  those 
w^hose  consciences  are  easily  satisfied,  to  relin- 
quish entirely  a  duty,  the  performance  of  which 
might  have  proved  a  blessing  to  their  ow^n 
souls  as  well  as  to  those  committed  to  their 
charge. 

Christmas,  with  its  pleasing  and  painful 
memories,  its  joyous  hymns  and  festive  ever-, 
greens,  its  solemn  services  and  sacred  altar 
feast,  had  come  and  gone,  and  the  long,  cold 
winter  had  drawn  to  a  close  ;  when,  early  in 
May,  another  little  one  was  added  to  our  home- 
circle.  Our  dear,  little,  blue-eyed  blossom 
w^e  named  Theodore — the  gift  of  God  ;  and, 
soon  after  his  birth,  I  called  on  the  minister 
of  the  parish  to  consult  about  his  baptism, 
which  we  at  once  agreed  should  take  place 
the  next  Sunday. 


36 


THE  EMIGRANT'S  QUEST. 


"  After  which  service  ?"  I  inquired. 

"  After  the  second  lesson  in  the  Evenino; 
Service,"  replied  Mr.  Morrison,  "  if  that 
would  suit  you.  Or,  would  you  prefer  hav- 
ing it  in  the  morning  ?  The  service,  then,  is 
so  much  longer  that  I  usually  have  baptisms 
in  the  afternoon." 

"  But  couldn't  it  be  after  sei^vice  ?  I  know 
my  wife  would  prefer  waiting  till  after  the 
congregation  have  left." 

But,  my  friend,"  said  the  clergyman,  "it 
is  against  the  rules.  Just  read  the  rubric. 
Tou  see  it  is  explicit." 

"  I  suppose  there  is  the  same  rubric  in  the 
English  Prayer-book,"  said  I,  after  reading 
it ;  "  but  I  never  in  my  life  saw  a  child  bap- 
tized during  Divine  service." 

Mr.  Morrison  looked  troubled. 
I  am  afraid,"  said  he,  "  you  think  me 
very  disobliging  ;  but  I  do  not  know  how  to 
consent  to  having  it  at  any  other  time.  If 
the  presence  of  a  large  congregation  is  an 
objection,  Mrs.  Grey  might  come  on  a  week- 
day. You  know  there  are  prayers  every 
Wednesday  morning." 

I  thanked  Mr.  Morrison,  and  assured  him 
that  this  latter  arrangement  would  answer 
very  well. 


DIFFERENCE  IN  CHURCH  USAGES.  37 

"  As  Baptism  is  tlie  rite  of  admission  into 
tlie  Cliristian  Church,"  said  the  good  rector, 
"  you  will  perceive  that  there  is  a  fitness  in 
its  being  performed  in  the  presence  of  a  con- 
gregation. Besides,  I  hope  }'ou  attach  some 
importance  to  the  prayers  which  are  thus  se- 
cured for  your  little  one.  I  can  easily  un- 
derstand that  it  is  often  a  trial  to  parents  to 
come  forward,  but  is  not  the  blessing  to  be 
secured  worth  the  sacrifice  of  one's  own  per- 
sonal feelings  ?  There  was  a  time  when 
Christian  parents  braved  death  itself  to  pro- 
cure baptism  for  their  children  !" 

My  wife  was  taken  by  surprise.  She  had 
supposed  the  American  Church  less  strict 
than  the  English,  and  could  hardly  think  Mr. 
Morrison  serious  in  declining  to  baptize  after 
service,  but  she  was  very  readily  convinced 
that  he  was  right. 

"  It  will  be  a  trial  to  me,"  said  she,  "  but 
how  slight  a  trial,  compared  with  that  of  a 
Jewish  mother  in  similar  circumstances." 

So  our  little  one  was  enrolled  amongst  the 
soldiers  of  Christ,  and,  when  the  brief  but 
important  ceremony  was  over,  we  took  him 
home,  purposing  to  train  him  up  in  the  fear 
and  love  of  his  adopting  Father. 

But  vain  were  our  hopes.  Our  little  May- 
4 


38 


THE  EMIGrvAXT''S  QUEST. 


flower  was  not  destined  long  to  brigliten  our 
house.  With  the  heats  of  summer,  it 
drooped  and  withered ;  and,  before  the 
month  of  August  closed,  He,  to  whom  we 
had  given  our  darling,  claimed  him  at  our 
hand. 

For  the  second  time  he  was  borne  into  the 
church,  but  this  time  it  was  not  in  our  arms ; 
my  Avife  leaned  upon  me,  weeping,  but  I  heard 
her  murmur,  as  we  crossed  the  threshold — 
"  Thank  God,  that  we  did  all  that  we  could 
do  for  him  !  "  and  I  knew  she  was  thinking 
of  his  baptism. 

The  church  was  half  full,  and  eight  or  ten 
carriages  followed  our  baby's  body  to  the 
grave.  It  was  very  different  from  our  Eng- 
lish customs,  but,  even  in  the  midst  of  our 
grief,  we  could  not  but  feel  soothed  and  soft- 
ened by  the  sympathy  of  those  around  us. 

We  laid  our  little  one  to  rest — 

"  'Not  on  his  cradle  bed, 
'Not  on  his  mother's  breast — " 

but  we  trusted  that  he  would  be  safely  kept 
by  the  love  of  that  Father  to  whom  he  had 
gone  in  unsullied  innocence,  purified  from  all 
native  defilement,  and  free  from  staiu  of  act- 
ual sin. 


DIFFERENCE  IN  CHURCH  USAGES. 


39 


The  high  thanksgivings  of  the  burial  ser- 
vice never  touched  me  before  as  they  did  then. 
Our  precious  lamb  was  safe,  and  we  need  not 
lament  for  the  departure  of  one  whom  we 
should  so  soon  follow. 


CHAPTEE 


Y. 


CONVERSATIOXS  WITH  SQUIRE  BOWEN. 

OUR  or  five  years  passed  by,  and 
still  I  had  not  decided  whether  or 
not  I  had  fonnd  our  oath  Church 
in  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church 
of  the  United  States.  We  attended  service 
there  generally  once  every  Lord's  Day,  and 
my  wife  and  I  did  not  altogether  forget  the 
Lord's  Table,  yet  we  did  not  feel  at  home. 
We  knew  few  of  our  fellow-Churchmen,  ex- 
cepting by  sight.  My  wife  had,  it  is  true, 
been  invited  several  times  to  meet  with  the 
sewing  society  of  the  parish,  and  had  done 
so  on  two  or  three  occasions.  But  she  had 
returned  early  each  time,  and  much  depress- 
ed. She  felt  herself  lonely  among  strangers, 
who,  though  they  were  politely  attentive, 
never  seemed  to  think  of  hemg /Viends,  She 
fancied  that  they  remarked  and  ridiculed  the 
little  peculiarities  of  expression  or  accent,  in 
which  the  natives  of  one  country  differ  li'om 


CONVERSATIONS  WITH  SQUIKE  BOWEN.  41 


those  of  another,  and  had  felt,  in  conse- 
quence, awkward  and  constrained. 

"  The  heart  of  a  stranger,"  said  she  to  me, 
on  one  of  these  occasions,  "  is  a  very  tender 
thing.  I  never  fully  knew,  till  now,  the  force 
of  that  sentence  in  Exodus — '  for  ye  know 
the  heart  of  a  stranger,  seeing  ye  were  stran- 
gers in  the  land  of  Egypt.'  It  is  only  by  ex- 
perience that  one  can  know  the  heart  of  a 
stranger  P 

I  have  mentioned  before,  that  one  of  our 
neighbors,  an  Englishman,  in  much  lower 
circumstances  than  ray  own,  was  a  Method- 
ist. I  could  not  but  remark  the  difterent 
positions  which  our  families  lield  in  their  res- 
pective communions.  Brother  Hibbard  was 
a  class-leader  ;  his  daughters  sang  in  the 
choir,  and  were  always  in  demand  for  sing- 
ing meetings  and  sewing  circles,  and  little  so- 
cial gatherings  of  various  kinds.  Jenny 
grew  acquainted  with  them,  and  frequently 
accompanied  them  to  evening  meetings,  both 
on  Sundays  and  week-days. 

Deacon  Warner's  people  were  found  to  be 
excellent  neighbors  ;  kind  in  sickness,  pleas- 
ant and  sociable  at  all  times.  They  were 
strict  in  keeping  up  family  worship,  and  in 

attending  upon  the  public  services  of  the 
4* 


42 


THE  EMIGK  ant's  QUEST. 


Lord's  Day  ;  while,  in  the  simplicity  of  their 
dress  and  deportment,  their  perfect  sincerity 
and  unpretending  beneyolence,  they  present- 
ed a  pattern  of  the  Christian  character,  that 
it  did  one  good  to  contemplate.  I  ^vas 
much  pleased  that  Edward  should  become  in- 
timate with  George  Warner,  and  yery  read- 
ily allowed  him  to  accompany  his  friend  to 
the  Baptist  meeting  on  eyerj  occasion  when 
I  did  not  go  to  church  myself. 

Till  this  time,  I  had  become  yery  little  ac- 
quainted with  any  neighbors  besides  these ; 
but,  as  my  knowledge  of  the  neighborhood 
increased,  and  people  had  time  to  form  an 
opinion  of  us,  I  found  that  we  were  begin- 
ning to  feel  at  home  with  some  of  the  others, 
especially  with  Squire  Bowen.  The  old  gen- 
tleman often  dropped  in  for  an  hour's  chat, 
and  sometimes  brought  his  wife,  with  her 
knitting,  to  spend  the  eyening.  They  were 
a  pleasant  old  couple.  The  husband,  tall 
and  slender,  with  something  of  a  military 
bearing,  and  retaining  a  good  deal  of  youth- 
ful fire  in  his  keen  grey  eyes ;  the  wife,  some- 
what dumpy  in  figure  and  homely  in  speech, 
but  most  kind  and  motherly  in  deportment, 
and  with  an  eyer-ready  smile  on  her  good-hu- 
mored face. 


CONVERSATIOXS  WITH  SQUIRE  BOWEiq-.  43 


As  we  became  intimate,  we  were  occasion- 
ally led,  by  our  new  friends,  to  converse  on 
the  customs  of  our  native  land,  and  especial- 
ly of  those  relating  to  her  Church ;  and  I 
one  day  expressed  my  surprise  that  Ameri- 
cans should  take  so  much  interest  in  the  Eng- 
lish Establishment. 

"  I  don't  like  to  hear  you  call  it  by  such  a 
name,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  rather  hasti- 
ly. "  Excuse  me,  Mr.  Grey,  but  really  it  is 
strange  to  me,  how  you  English — brought  up 
in  such  a  pure  Apostolic  Church — the  one 
that  fought  the  battles  of  the  Reformation, 
and  that  has  preserved  the  truths  of  the  Gos- 
pel free  from  the  errors  that  have  infected 
other  religious  organizations,  handing  them 
down  in  all  their  purity  and  fulness,  as  the 
heritage  of  her  children  forever — it  seems 
strange  to  me,  I  say,  that  you,  the  sons  of 
such  a  Church,  should  rest  her  claims  to  your 
love  and  obedience  on  no  higher  ground  than 
that  of  her  being  the  Established  Church  of 
your  country." 

"  But  surely,  Mr.  Bowen,  the  National 
Church  has  claims  on  the  citizens  of  a  Christ- 
ian land  ! " 

"  It  is  hardly  worth  while,  my  good  friend, 
to  seek  a  lower  reason  for  doing  our  duty,  . 


44 


THE  EMIGEAXT'S  QUEST. 


when  we  have  a  higher  one.  It  is  true,  we 
might  say  it  is  right  for  children  to  submit  to 
their  parents  because  the  law  requires  it,  and 
we  owe  obedience  to  the  laws  of  the  land ; 
but  who  would  think  of  rendering  such  a  rea- 
son, when  we  can  say  God  has  commanded, 
'  Honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother  ? ' — I  see 
you  uuderstand  me.  If  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land should  cease  to  be  the  National  Church 
to-morrow,  she  would  still  possess  the  same 
authority,  the  same  claims  to  love  and  obedi- 
ence, that  she  has  now.'' 

I  looked  a  little  doubtful,  though  I  could 
say  nothing  against  my  neighbor's  assertion. 

Perhaps  I  don't  quite  understand  you," 
I  said. 

I  will  try  to  be  a  little  clearer.  You 
will  admit  that  all  power  to  minister  in  sa- 
cred things  comes  from  God.*' 

Certainly.  But  kings  and  rulers  are,  in 
one  sense,  ministers  of  God,  you  know." 

True,  my  good  friend,  but  only  in  things 
temporal.  Saul,  you  remember,  lost  his  king- 
dom by  presuming  on  the  duties  of  the  priest- 
hood, and  Uzziah  was  smitten  with  leprosy 
for  a  similar  ofience.  You  never  heard  of 
king  or  parliament  consecrating  a  bishop." 
"  They  nominate  them  though,"  said  I. 


CONVERSATIONS  WITH  SQUIRE  BOWEN.  45 


"I  don't  tliink  tliey  ought  to  have  that 
right,"  rejoined  Mr.  Bowen.  The  Church 
ought  to  nominate,  as  well  as  elect,  her  own 
bishops.  But  still,  though  Parliament  may 
nominate,  no  power  on  earth  could  make  a 
man  a  bishop,  if  the  consecration  was  with- 
held." 

"  Very  true." 

"  That  shows  that  he  derives  his  episcopal 
authority,  not  from  his  nomination,  but  from 
his  consecration  ;  not  from  the  government, 
but  from  the  Church  ;  and  thus,  from  the 
Head  of  the  Church — Christ  himself." 

"  I  am  afraid  that  I  know  very  little  of  the 
grounds  for  the  Church's  authority,  except 
the  nationality,"  said  I ;  I  was  always  satis- 
fied with  it,  and  always  intended  to  remain 
in  it,  so  it  seemed  a  matter  of  little  conse- 
quence to  me ;  and,  in  fact,  I  don't  think  I 
should  quite  understand  the  matter,  if  I  were 
to  study  it." 

And  yet  it  appears  to  me  very  simple," 
said  Mr.  Bowen.  Perhaps  I  can  give  an 
illustration.  Our  president  appoints  a  post- 
master-general, and  the  postmaster-general 
appoints  subordinate  postmasters  throughout 
the  Union.  But,  though  he  may  appoint 
thousands,  the  power  by  which  they  are  ap- 


46 


THE  emigrant's  QEEST. 


pointed  is  really  the  president's  ;  and,  in  the 
remotest  corner  of  the  country,  no  man  can 
take  the  office  of  postmaster,  without  ofiend- 
ing  against  the  authority  of  the  highest 
power  in  the  nation,  unless  he  has  been  law- 
fully appointed  by  the  officer  to  whom  alone 
the  power  of  making  such  appointments  has 
been  delegated." 

"  I  perceive  that  you  consider  your  Church 
to  be  essentially  the  same  with  the  Church 
of  England." 

"  Certainly.  She  differs  only  in  having 
no  connection  with  the  state,  and  in  a  few 
slight  alterations  in  those  rites  and  ceremo- 
nies which  each  particular  church  has  author- 
ity to  establish  for  itself  You  remember 
the  article  on  that  point  ?" 

"  I  know  the  preface  to  the  American 
Prayer-book  claims  to  have  departed  from 
the  Church  of  England  in  no  '  essential  point 
of  doctrine,  discipline  or  w^orship,'  and  I 
am  not  disposed  to  dispute  the  assertion. 
But,  though  forms  and  doctrines  may  be  the 
same,  the  spirit  may  be  so  different  as  to 
make  it,  in  reality,  a  different  church." 

"  Yery  true  ;  we  know  that  a  galvanized 
corpse  is  a  very  different  thing  from  a  liv- 
ing man,  though  it  may  move,  and  though 


CONVERSATIOXS  WITH  SQUIEE  BOWEX.  47 


all  tlie  bones  and  muscles,  all  the  framework 
of  a  man,  are  in  perfection.  But  I  do  not 
believe  there  is  any  difference  between  the 
two  churches,  further  than  what  nnavoid- 
ably  results  from  the  circumstances  in  which 
each  is  placed." 

Well  now,  for  example,  I  have  been  liv- 
ing on  this  farm  for  four  years,  and  during 
all  that  time  have  received  only  two  visits 
from  our  clergyman.  Is  not  parochial  visit- 
ing an  essential  part  of  the  Church  system  ? 
I  believe  that  private  as  well  as  public  moni- 
tion of  his  people  is  amongst  the  duties  that, 
at  his  ordination,  a  priest  promises  to  per- 
form." 

"  My  good  neighbor,  did  it  ever  occur  to 
you,  that  you  live  four  miles  from  the  vil- 
lage, and  that  your  pastor's  salary  does  not 
enable  him  to  keep  a  horse  ?" 

''But  our  clergymen  were,  in  general, 
equally  destitute.  They  usually  walked,  in 
making  parochial  calls,  and  they  made  a 
business  of  it,  too.  On  four  days  out  of  the 
seven,  from  ten  o'clock  till  three,  our  clergy- 
man was  always  engaged  in  this  way.  I 
don't  think  local  circumstances  can  have 
made  all  the  difference  in  this  respect." 

"  I  think  I  have  heard  you  say  that  tlie 


48 


THE  EMIGPwANt's  QUEST. 


climate  of  England  is  more  suited  to  walk- 
ing tlian  ours  is,  and  that  your  roads  are  not 
often  rendered  impassable  by  snow  or  mud." 

"  I  never  tliought  of  that,"  I  replied,  has- 
tily, as  I  recalled  to  mind  the  smooth,  white 
roads,  on  which,  in  the  rainiest  times,  the 
mud  never  reached  the  depth  of  an  inch.  I 
could  not  help  thinking,  too,  that  if  the  tlier- 
mometer  had  kept  above  eighty  in  the  shade 
for  weeks  together  in  summer,  and  remained 
in  the  neighborhood  of  zero  for  days  to- 
gether in  the  winter,  our  parish  clergyman 
would  have  felt  a  walk  of  several  hours 
rather  too  severe  a  trial  to  be  encountered 
regularly  four  or  five  times  a  week. 

"  Besides,"  continued  Mr.  Bowen,  "  there 
is  the  difference  of  procuring  domestic  help, 
that  makes  a  clergyman's  home  duties  more 
laborious.  Mr.  Morrison,  for  example,  cuts 
his  own  wood,  milks  his  own  cow,  does  the 
marketing,  cultivates  his  own  garden,  and 
frequently,  no  doubt,  is  obliged  to  assist  his 
wdfe  within  doors.  You  stare,  my  good  friend, 
but  this  last  is  an  unavoidable  part  of  a 
country  clergyman's  duties,  in  a  part  of  the 
w^orld  where  girls  are  hard  to  find,  and  hard 
to  keep  when  found." 

"  But  other  classes  have  these  difiiculties," 


CONVERSATIONS  WITH  SQUIKE  BO  WEN.  49 


said  T,  after  a  pause  ;  "  and  a  clergyman's 
home  duties  are  not  greater,  I  suppose,  tlian  a 
lawyer's  or  a  doctor's.  "Why  can't  lie  devote 
as  much  time  to  the  business  of  his  calling  as 
they  do  ?" 

"  He  has  more  home  duties,"  replied  Mr. 
Bowen.  "  The  wife  of  a  lawyer  or  doctor  is 
undisturbed  by  her  husband's  clients  or  pa- 
tients, but  the  time  of  a  clergyman's  wife  is 
perpetually  broken  in  upon  by  the  claims  of 
her  husband's  parishioners.  Calls  at  all 
times  are  perfectly  in  order  at  the  par- 
sonage, and  if  the  wife  is  kneading  the 
bread,  or  scrubbing  the  kitchen,  the  husband 
must  leave  his  study,  though,  by  so  doing,  he 
loses  a  fine  train  of  thought,  and  spoils  his 
next  Sunday's  sermon.  Be  assured,  my  good 
friend,  that  it  is  from  no  defect  in  our 
Church,  but  merely  from  local  causes,  that 
the  duty  of  parochial  visiting  is  so  much 
neglected.  Were  the  clergy  as  numerous, 
and  as  well  provided  for,  as  in  England, 
there  would  be  little  complaint  on  that  score, 
I  think." 

"  Pshaw  !"  said  T,  with  more  energy  than 
politeness ;  "  every  one  seems  to  think  that 
in  England  the  clergy  are  all  rich.    It  is  a 
great  mistake,  Mr.  Bowen,  a  very  great  mis- 
5 


50 


THE  EMIGEAXT^S  QUEST. 


take.  I  know  several,  in  small  pariskes 
round  Croscombe,  wko  do  not  receive  so 
muck  from  tkeir  livings  as  Mr.  Morrison  re- 
ceives from  tkis  parisk,  and  some  were  posi- 
tively poor,  keeping  kouse  on  a  smaller  sti- 
pend tkan  an  assistant  in  a  commercial 
scliool  could  command." 

"  I  kave  no  doubt  tkere  are  many  suck 
cases,"  replied  Mr.  Bowen,  *'  but,  generally 
an  Englisk  clergyman  kas  sometking  besides 
liis  '  living '  to  support  kim,  wkick  is  very 
rarely  tke  case  in  tkis  country.  Yery  few  of 
our  clergymen  kave  any  private  property, 
and  many  enter  on  tke  work  of  tke  ministry 
encumbered  by  debts,  contracted  in  acquir- 
ing tke  education  and  tke  books,  necessary 
to  prepare  tkem  for  it.  Besides,  a  person 
can  live  on  a  muck  smaller  income  wken  ke 
kas  a  settled  kome,  and  tkougk  your  poor 
curates  do  not  possess  tkat  luxury,  I  suppose 
every  '  parson '  does,  and  tkat,  wken  ke  en- 
ters kis  parsonage,  it  is  witk  tke  comfortable 
feeling  tkat  every  improvement  ke  makes 
will  be  kis  to  enjoy  for  life." 

"  Tkere's  anotker  tking  I  don't  like,"  I 
resumed,  after  a  pause.  "  A  poor  man,  in 
England,  feels  tkat  ke  and  kis  family  kave  a 
perfect  rigkt  to  be  accommodated  in  tkeir 


CONVEPvSATIONS  WITH  SQUIKE  BOWEN.  51 


parish  churcli.  Such  a  thing  as  their ^j**:^?//?? 5?' 
for  the  privilege  is  never  thought  of.  You 
know  that  is  not  the  case  here,  and  I  have  no 
doubt  many  a  poor  family  is  kept  away  from 
church  by  want  of  ability  to  pay  the  pew- 
rent." 

"  Would  that  our  land  were  filled  ^\dth 
free  churches  !"  said  Mr.  Bowen,  earnestly  ; 
"  may  the  time  come  !  though  I  cannot  hope 
it  will  be  in  our  day.  You  know  that  in 
England  religious  privileges  for  all  are  pro- 
vided at  the  cost  of  government,  while  in 
this  country  people  must  provide  them  for 
themselves.  There  are  a  good  many  disad- 
vantages in  our  way  of  doing  things,  I  am 
willing  to  admit,  but  the  fault  of  not  provid- 
ing for  the  religious  instruction  of  the  people 
rests  with  the  civil  government,  not  with  the 
Church.  I  should  not  wonder,  my  good 
friend,  if  things  in  England  look  a  little 
brighter  to  you  now  than  they  did  when  you 
were  there.  Perhaps  you  did  not  relish  the 
payment  of  tithes  much  more  than  some 
other  people." 

I  smiled  at  Mr.  Bowen's  shrewd  guess, 
which  was  not  far  from  the  truth ;  but, 
though  the  conversation  was  soon  changed^ 
I  did  not  forget  the  old  gentleman's  remarks. 


52 


THE  EMIGEANt's  QUEST. 


One  thing  is  certain,  tlionght  I,  that  Ameri- 
can Churchmen  know  more  about  the 
Church  than  we  do.  Very  natural,  too,  that 
they  should.  It  is  our  national  Church,  and 
unless  we  dissent  from  its  doctrines  or  forms 
of  worship,  we  belong  to  it  as  a  matter  of 
course,  while  here  people  do  not  belong  to  it 
without  some  reason  for  preferring  it  to  all 
others.  Certainly  Mr.  Bowen  seems  to  know 
the  reasons  why  he  is  a  Churchman. 

One  of  the  effects  of  this  con  versation  was 
to  induce  me  to  say  to  a  poor  Englishman, 
who  had  recently  emiofrated,  and  whom  I 
sometimes  employed  on  my  farm  : 

"  Jeremy,  I  haven't  seen  you  at  church 
for  a  long  time." 

"1^0,  measter,  I  goes  to  the  Methodist 
meeting." 

"  Oh,  I  didn't  know  that  you  were  a  Meth- 
odist." 

Xo  more  I  weren't,  sir.  I  beant  no 
more  of  a  Methody  than  you  be,  only  I  goes 
there  'cause  they  be  more  sociable  like  than 
the  Church  folk}' 

I  was  inclined  to  say,  But  you  don't  go 
to  church  to  be  sociable,  but  to  worship 
God  ;"  but  I  checked  myself,  for  I  felt  that 
poor  Jeremy's  experience  was  the  same  in 


CONYEESATIONS  WITH  SQUIEE  BOWEN.  53 


kind  with,  though  differing  in  degree  from, 
my  own.    How  could  I  blame  him  ? 

You  see,  sir,"  continued  Jeremy,  "  the 
Church  parson  never  came  a-nigh  us  all  the 
weeks  we  was  down  with  the  fever,  and  I 
couldn't  stand  it,  nor  wife  neither,  to  be 
treated  in  that  way.  So  we've  been  to  the 
Methodist  ever  since." 

"  And  does  the  Methodist  minister  come 
to  see  you  any  oftener  than  Mr.  Morrison 
did?"  I  inquired,  a  little  curious  to  know 
whether  this  neglect  of  parochial  duty  was 
peculiar  to  our  own  clergy. 

"  Why,  no,  measter,  I  can't  say  as  he  do. 
But  then  the  people  do  come,  and  very 
friendly  sort  of  folk  they  seem  to  be." 

I  wonder  if  that  is  not  the  grand  obstacle 
to  my  feeling  at  home  in  the  Church,  thought 
I.  AVe  don't  feel  acquainted  with  the  mem- 
bers, and  they  are  not  very  sociable  with 
strangers,  I  think.  I  believe  this  coldness 
and  distance  on  their  part  makes  the  great 
difference  between  Churchmen  here  and  at 
home. 

I  mentioned  this  opinion  of  mine  to  Mr. 
Bowen,  when  we  next  met,  and  he  smiled,  as 
he  asked  me,  if  I  had  ever  tried  the  experi- 
ment in  England  of  going  from  my  native 
5* 


54: 


THE  emigrant's  QUEST. 


parish,  where  I  knew  every  one,  into  one  in 
which  I  was  entirely  unacquainted. 
I  never  had. 
I  thought  not,"  rejoined  the  old  gentle- 
man, "for,  if  you  had,  you  would  not  have 
supposed  coldness  and  indifference  towards 
strangers  to  be  peculiar  to  American  Church- 
men." 

"  However,"  continued  he,  "  there  is  too 
much  of  it  amongst  us,  no  doubt.  I  wish  we 
could  cultivate  a  little  of  the  fraternizing  spirit 
of  our  worthy  friends  the  Methodists,  and  treat 
those  who  kneel  at  the  same  altar  more  as  if 
we  believed  them  to  be  in  truth  our  brothers 
and  sisters,  instead  of  merely  calling  them  so 
in  our  offices  of  devotion.  This,  however, 
concerns  our  duties  as  individuals,  and  its 
neglect  can  hardly  be  charged  upon  the 
Church,  any  more  than  any  other  failure  in 
Christian  duty,  on  the  part  of  her  members." 

"  We  cannot  help  feeling  the  difference,  in 
this  respect,  between  the  members  of  our  own 
communion,  and  those  of  other  religious  bo- 
dies— the  Baptist  and  Methodist  for  exam- 
ple.   It  certainly  is  a  trial  to  one's  faith." 

"  My  good  friend  !  "  said  Mr.  Bowen,  look- 
ing earnestly  at  me,  with  his  accustomed  cor- 
dial smile,    it  appears  to  me,  from  your  own 


CONVERSATIONS  WITH  SQUIRE  BOWEN.  55 


account,  that  you  have  been  enjoying  the 
privileges  of  the  Church,  in  their  full  extent, 
all  your  life  hitherto.  Are  you  not  willing, 
now,  to  sacrifice  something  for  the  sake  of 
show  ing  your  attachment  and  gratitude  ?  " 

I  would,  very  willingly,  if  the  sacrifice 
concerned  only  myself,  but  it  is  harder  to  do 
so  when  my  children  are  concerned.  They 
would  be  prominent  members,  as  good  as 
anybody,  in  some  other  religious  society, 
while  in  our  own  they  are  nobodies,  and  w^ill 
grow  up  there,  neither  valued  nor  useful." 

"  Take  my  word  for  it,  Edward  Grey,  that 
if  yon  remain  loyal  to  your  Church,  your 
children  will  thank  you  for  it,  in  ten  years' 
time.  I  confess  it  is  a  trial  for  you,  but,  if 
you  prove  true  to  your  faith,  all  will  turn  out 
w^ell  in  the  end.  But,"  continued  the  old  gen- 
tleman, after  a  considerable  pause,  "  do  you 
feel  that  you  have  been  true  to  your  faith, 
my  good  friend  ?  I  know  it  is  often  the  case, 
that  one  is  most  inclined  to  criticise  others 
when  in  fault  one's  self.  The  poet's  advice  is 
good : 

"  *  Search  thine  own  heart ;  what  paineth  thee 
In  others,  in  thyself  may  be  : 
All  hearts  are  frail,  all  flesh  is  weak, 
Be  thou  the  true  man  thou  dost  seek.' " 


56 


THE  emigrant's  quest. 


"I  don't  understand  in  what  respect  I 
have  failed." 

''Think  of  it,  and  jou  may  find  out.  I 
don't  want  you  to  confess  to  me,  but  only  to 
set  you  to  examine  yourself.  In  this  coun- 
try, where  clergymen  are  so  few  and  far  be- 
tween, perhaps  we  may  take  it  for  granted 
that  laymen  have  a  large  share  of  parochial 
and  missionary  work  to  perform.  The  duty 
of  kindly  intercourse  with  one's  fellow-Christ- 
ians, and  of  co-operation  with  the  clergyman 
in  schemes  of  usefulness  and  benevolence,  I 
need  not  mention,  as  we  have  just  been  la- 
menting the  evils  produced  by  the  want  of 
social  feeling  amongst  us." 

I  felt  guilty.  I  knew  that  I  was  by  no 
means  ready  in  visiting  the  poor  and  sick, 
and  that,  with  the  conviction  that  he  had  neg- 
lected us,  I  had  held  myself  very  much  aloof 
from  Mr.  Morrison.  Perhaps  Mr.  Bowen 
knew  what  was  passing  in  my  mind,  for  he 
did  not  wait  for  any  answer,  before  proceed- 
ing : 

"I  think  you  will  always  find,  that,  for 
whatever  we  blame  others,  we  may  detect 
something  of  the  same  fault  in  ourselves. 
Every  head  of  a  family,  especially  every  fa- 
ther, is  a  priest  by  God's  special  appoint- 


CONVERSATIONS  WITH  SQUIRE  BOWEN.  57 


ment ;  and  Ins  family  is  his  parish,  to  be  by 
him  instructed  and  disciplined  in  all  the  doc- 
trines and  duties  of  religion.  You  will 
please  excuse  me  if  I  speak  very  freely." 

"  Certainly,  certainly.  It  is  for  my  good,  I 
know,  and  I  thank  you  for  doing  so." 

"  Then  I  will  ask  you,  if  you  think  you 
are  doing  your  duty  towards  your  children ; 
your  two  eldest,  more  particularly  ?" 

"  I  suppose  you  think  they  ought  not 
to  leave  the  services  of  our  Church  for  those 
of  others,"  said  I,  with  some  warmth.  "  But, 
Mr.  Bowen,  you  do  not  appear  to  understand 
my  character.  If  there  is  one  fault  I  detest 
above  all  others  it  is  that  of  bigotry." 

"  Perhaps  we  should  not  quite  agree  in  our 
definitions  of  bigotry,"  said  Mr.  Bowen, 
without  noticing  my  rudeness ;  "  you  will 
often  find  it  combined  with  the  most  latitu- 
dinarian  views  of  religion.  For  my  part,  I 
should  not  think  it  bigotry  to  bring  up  chil- 
dren in  the  faith  which  I  had  promised  that 
thej^  should  keep." 

"  But  my  children  have  no  thought  of 
abandoning  that  faith." 

"  If  they  are  influenced  by  the  teachings 
that  they  hear  every  Sunday  evening,  it  wdll 
not  be  long  before  they  are  ready  to  do  so." 


58 


THE  emigrant's  QUEST. 


Well,"  said  T,  it  would  give  me  miicli 
pain,  no  doubt,  to  have  my  son  relinquish 
the  Church  of  his  fathers,  but  he  might  do 
worse  than  to  become  a  Baptist.  I  believe 
our  Baptist  neighbors  to  be  a  truly  excellent 
class  of  people." 

"  Readily  granted,  my  good  friend  ;  but 
excellent  people  often  do  very  bad  things. 
You  took  your  son,  in  infancy,  to  the  baptis- 
mal font :  are  you  prepared  to  hear  that  he 
looks  upon  that  solemn  sacrament,  the  sign 
and  seal  of  his  adoption  into  the  family  of 
Christ,  as  a  mere  idle  ceremony,  of  no  value 
whatever?  that  he  is  ready  to  renounce  its 
benefits,  and  seek  for  baptism  anew  ?" 

"  Impossible  !"  I  exclaimed,  "  I  thought 
the  repetition  of  baptism  was  always  regard- 
ed as  sacrilege." 

"  If  your  son  becomes  a  Baptist,  it  is  only 
by  such  a  sacrilege  that  he  can  be  admitted 
to  their  communion.  Think,  then,  what  a 
temptation  to  commit  a  grievous  sin  he  is  ex- 
posed to,  by  the  preaching  he  is  in  the  habit 
of  hearing." 

"  But  with  Jenny  it  is  different,"  I  persist- 
ed, after  an  uneasy  pause  ;  "  the  Methodists 
never  re-baptize.  In  fact,  I  don't  think  they 
trouble  themselves  much  about  baptism  any 


CONVERSATIONS  WITH  SQUIRE  BOWEN.  59 


way,  and  in  doctrine,  tliey  do  not  differ  from 
the  Cliurcli  of  England." 

Setting  aside  the  sin  of  schism,  and  the 
qnestion  as  to  the  lawfulness  of  their  minis- 
try," said  Mr.  Bowen,  "  we  can  see  that  there 
is  much  .to  object  to  in  their  usages.  I  do  not 
like  to  find  fault  with  a  body  of  Christians, 
whom  I  highly  esteem  for  the  zeal  and  broth- 
erly love,  of  which  they  appear  to  possess  a 
larger  share  than  most  others  ;  but  you  have 
been  to  some  of  their  ^  protracted  meetings,' 

I  think  r 

"  I  have,  and  was  thoroughly  disgusted." 

"  And  what  do  you  suppose  would  be  the 
effect  of  often  witnessing  such  scenes  on 
those  who  do  not  fully  sympathize  with 
them  ?  Pain  and  disgust  at  first,  perhaps,  but 
by  degrees,  the  quick  perception  of  irrev- 
erence becomes  blunted,  and  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  traits  of  a  religious  mind  is  soon 
destroyed.  I  scarcely  ever  knew  a  young 
person,  brought  up  amongst  the  Methodists, 
who  possessed  that  reverence  for  sacred 
things,  which  seems  to  me  so  essential  a  part 
of  a  religious  character." 

^'  Then  you  would  have  me  forbid  Edward 
and  Jane  going  to  any  other  place  of  worship 
than  our  own." 


60 


THE  EMIGEAKT'S  QUEST. 


"  You  Lave  allowed  them  to  begin,  and  it 
would  appear  unreasonable  and  capricious  in 
you  to  forbid  them  now.  But  you  should  see 
to  it  that  they  are  well  instructed  in  your 
own  faith,  if  you  wish  that  they  should  con- 
tinue in  it.  It  often  happens,  that  the  young 
leave  us  from  neglect  of  teaching." 

"  I  have  need  to  be  taught  myself,"  thought 
I,  as  I  hung  my  head,  and  called  to  mind  my 
many  deficiencies  in  the  practice,  and  igno- 
rance in  the  doctrines,  of  religion. 

My  neighbor's  words  had  roused  me  to 
self-examination.  Sure  enough,  while  find- 
ing fault  with  my  fellow-Christians,  I  had 
done  very  little  credit  to  the  cause  I  profess- 
ed by  my  example.  Family  prayers  and 
reading  the  Scriptures  had  been  gradually 
neglected,  till  now"  we  never  thought  of  having 
them  but  on  Sundays.  The  catechising  of 
the  children,  a  duty  which  I  had  been  too 
proud  to  share  with  Sunday  School  teachers, 
had  been  very  irregularly  perfonned,  and  at 
long  intervals.  Religion  had  been  put  aside, 
as  the  thing  of  least  importance,  to  be  at- 
tended to  when  everything  else  was  done, 
instead  of  being  regarded  as  first  in  its 
claims,  and  all-pervading  in  its  nature. 

When  one's  errors  are  detected,  one  very 


CONVERSATIONS  WITH  SQUIEE  EOWEX.  61 

important  step  is  taken  towards  finding  tlie 
way  back  to  the  right  path,  but  it  is  far 
easier  to  leave  that  path,  than  to  regain  it. 

I  was  deeply  in  earnest,  however,  in  mak- 
ing the  attempt ;  and,  with  many  prayers  for 
Divine  guidance,  and  after  consulting  Avith 
my  wife,  decided  on  two  things — the  re-es- 
tablishment of  family  worship,  and  the  regu- 
lar instruction  of  the  children  (including  Ed- 
ward and  Jane)  for  an  hour  at  least,  every 
Sunday  evening.  As  I  did  not  wish  to  act  a 
capricious  or  unreasonable  part,  or  to  rouse 
opposition  to  my  measures,  I  said  nothing 
against  their  accompanying  their  young 
friends  as  usual,  after  the  hour  of  catechis- 
ing ;  but  trusted  that,  by  instructing  them  in 
the  principles  of  a  sound  faith,  they  might  be 
preserved  from  the  danger  of  imbibing  erro- 
neous doctrines,  or  of  conforming  to  objec- 
tionable customs  in  religion. 

6 


CHAPTEE  YI. 


SETTIKG  TO  WOEK. 

ETERAL  months  had  passed  by, 
and  things  went  on  smoothly  in 
our  family.  We  liad  set  in  earnest 
about  the  work  of  making  ours  a 
Christian  household,  and  the  blessing  of  God 
seemed  to  accompany  our  endeavors. 

It  was  with  a  deep  sense  of  my  own  igno- 
rance that  I  set  about  the  work  of  instruct- 
ing the  children.  I  had  learned  the  Cate- 
chism at  school,  where  that  and  the  Collects 
formed  the  regular  Saturday  morning's  les- 
sons, and  the  elder  children  had  learned  it 
in  the  same  way  while  in  England,  so  that 
neither  I  nor  my  wife  had  any  experience  in 
this  kind  of  instruction.  AVith  the  Prayer- 
book  in  my  hand,  I  began  to  teach  as  I  had 
been  taught  myself* 

A  copy  of  "  Beaven's  Help  to  Catechising" 
proved  a  great  assistance,  and  in  looking  out 
the  references,  I  found  my  own  knowledge 


SETTING  TO  WORK. 


63 


materially  increased.  We  sang  a  hymn  at 
tlie  beginning  and  close  of  our  catechetical 
exercises,  and  as  one  tune  readily  leads  to 
another,  we  sometimes  spent  an  hour  or  more 
in  music,  in  which  my  flute  and  my  wife's 
voice  took  the  most  prominent  part. 

Tlie  children  were  highly  pleased  with  the 
music ;  and,  on  other  than  Sunday  evenings, 
we  began  to  employ  it  in  closing  our  family 
w^orship.  Edward  and  Jane  were  very  fair 
singers,  and  chants  as  well  as  hymn-tunes 
soon  became  familiar  sounds  in  my  house. 

I  have  said  that  I  began  with  the  Church 
Catechism.  After  a  while,  as  I  found  my- 
self more  at  home  in  teaching,  I  procured  a 
series  of  questions  on  the  Gospels,  as  an  addi- 
tional exercise  for  the  older  ones.  It  hap- 
pened about  this  time  that,  for  some  cause  or 
other,  the  Hibbards  gave  up  going  to  evening 
meetings  (I  believe  because  they  had  a 
preacher  they  did  not  like),  and  the  two  eldest 
fell  into  the  habit  of  coming  in  during  our 
teaching  hour.  As  I  did  not  care  to  have  an 
audience,  I  used  to  address  questions  to  them 
in  turn  with  my  own  children,  and  very  soon 
we  heard  that  they  were  members  of  Mr. 
Grey's  Bible  Class."  Tliis  was  making  a 
great  matter  of  my  poor  little  attempt  to  in- 


64  THE  EMIGEANT'S  QUEST. 


struct  my  own  household,  but  I  had  no  ob- 
jections to  the  Hibbards'  coming,  though  it 
made  public,  in  some  measure,  M'hat  was  in- 
tended to  be  merely  a  family  affair.  Sunday 
evening  was  a  very  cheerful,  happy  time 
with  us.  With  a  map  of  Palestine  spread 
on  the  table,  around  which  we  sat  with  our 
Bibles  and  Prayer-books,  we  busied  ourselves 
long  after  the  hour  of  regular  instruction  was 
over,  in  linking  together  the  places  and 
events  of  Scripture. 

"  Find  Damascus  on  the  map,"  Edward 
would  say  to  one  of  the  little  ones,  and  when 
found,  he  would  ask  : 

"  What  can  you  say  of  Damascus  ?  What 
is  there  about  it  in  the  Bible  ?" 

It  existed  in  Abraham's  time,"  said  Al- 
bert, "  so  it  must  be  the  oldest  city  in  the 
world." 

St.  Paul  was  going  there  w^hen  he  was 
struck  blind,"  said  Jane. 

"  And  he  remained  there,  in  the  street 
called  Straight,  till  Ananias  restored  him  to 
sight,"  added  Fanny  Hibbard. 

"  Abana  and  Pharphar  were  rivers  of  Da- 
mascus," said  little  Emily. 

"  And  Damask  roses,  Damascus  swords, 
Damascene  (or  Damson)  plums,  and  the 


SETTINa  TO  AVORK. 


65 


silken  fabric  called  Damaslc,  all  came  origin- 
ally from  Damascus,"  added  I. 

Then  one  \YOuld  ask : 
How  many  miracles  are  recorded  in  the 
New  Testament  ?" 

And  as  they  were  recounted,  the  scene  of 
each  was  found  on  the  map  as  nearly  as  pos- 
sible. The  miracles  served  us  with  matter 
for  instruction  for  several  evenings,  while  we 
grew  familiar  with  the  season  and  locality, 
in  which  each  was  wrought,  together  with 
every  attendant  circumstance. 

We  had  often  regretted  that  some  of  the 
children  of  the  neighborhood,  the  Aliens  and 
Fitzgeralds,  should  be  growing  up  so  utterly 
devoid  of  religious  knowledge. 

"  Perhaps,"  said  I  to  Edward,  "  this  is  a 
little  missionary  work  that  we  ought  to  do. 
Do  you  think  we  could  get  up  a  little  class 
of  Sunday  scholars  amongst  them  V 

I  don't  believe  we  should  get  the  older 
children,"  said  Edward,  "  but  we  might  try. 
I  think  the  younger  ones  would  be  very 
likely  to  come.  There  is  no  priest  about 
here,  so  the  Fitzgeralds  don't  feel  under  any 
restraint.  Mother  and  Jenny  had  better  call 
and  see  them." 

My  wife  and  Jane  went,  and  succeeded  in 
6* 


66 


THE  EMIGRANT'S  QUEST. 


finding  seven  scholars  in  the  two  families, 
who  were  duly  instructed  to  be  at  our  house 
by  six  o'clock  precisely  on  Sunday  evening. 

Edward  and  Jenny  were  to  teach  this  little 
ignorant  flock,  of  whom  the  oldest  was  about 
eleven,  and  the  youngest  nearly  six.  They 
consulted  with  us,  however,  as  to  the  plan 
of  instruction,  and  began  by  giving  them 
some  of  the  simplest  outlines  of  religion,  and 
teaching  them  the  Lord's  Prayer,  proceeding 
thence  to  the  Ten  Commandments,  and  their 
application  to  the  duties  of  daily  life.  As 
the  children  evidently  cared  little  for  the  in- 
struction they  received,  I  wondered  that 
they  should  continue  to  be  in  their  places 
promptly  after  the  novelty  had  worn  off,  but 
the  mystery  was  solved  when  I  mentioned  it 
to  my  wife.  Jenny  had  a  currant  coolcie 
ready  to  give  to  each  of  the  children  after 
their  walk,  and  as  these  were  distributed  as 
soon  as  the  clock  struck  six,  the  little  ones 
were  obliged  to  be  punctual,  if  they  would 
come  in  for  a  share. 

Our  young  teachers  sometimes  complained 
that  their  labors  were  all  in  vain  ;  that  the 
children  were  as  rude,  and  rough,  and  un- 
principled as  ever,  and  that  they  seemed  to 
understand  very  little  of  what  they  were 


SETTING  TO  WORK. 


67 


taking  so  much  pains  to  impress  upon 
them. 

"  You  cannot  judge  as  yet,"  said  I.  The 
seed  is  thrown  into  the  ground  long  before  it 
makes  itself  noticeable  above.  Sow  in  faith 
and  prayer,  and  your  labor  will  not  be  in 
vain.  You  remember  w^hat  you  w^ere  read- 
ing last  night,  Jenny, 

**  *  And  if  thou  miss  the  victor's  meed, 
Thou  shalt  not  lack  the  worker's  pay.'  " 


CHAPTEE  VII. 


THE  CONFIRMATION. 

T  is  surprising  how  much  better 
satisfied  I  grew  with  my  Church, 
when  I  began  to  work  with  her. 
I  think  we  all  felt  more  of  union 
with  her,  and  prized  her  services  more  than 
we  had  ever  done  before.  AVe  often  re- 
mained to  the  afternoon  service,  though  it 
was  somewhat  inconvenient  to  us,  as  there 
was  an  "  intermission  "  of  two  hours,  during 
which  we  scarcely  knew  how  to  dispose  of 
ourselves. 

We  began  to  feel  more  acquainted  with 
the  members  of  the  congregation,  and  my 
wife  occasionally  went  to  a  meeting  of  the 
Sewing  Society,  taking  Jenny  with  her.  It 
was  one  of  the  rules  of  this  Society  that  an 
hour  of  each  meeting  was  to  be  spent  in 
reading,  and  it  happened  that  they  were 
about  this  time  engaged  on  Kip's  "  Double 
"Witness  of  the  Church."    Mv  wife  was  so 


THE  CONFIRMATION. 


69 


much  interested  in  the  portions  she  heard, 
that  she  procured  a  copy  of  the  work  for  the 
benefit  of  our  family,  and  it  did  more  towards 
clearing  up  my  ideas  of  the  Cliurch  as  disso- 
ciated from  the  EstablisJiment  XhdiR  any  book 
I  ever  read.  I  had  come  to  this  country  with 
a  vague  traditional  belief  in  the  Church  of 
England  as  our  National  Churchy  and  was 
disposed  to  think  that  in  a  country  where 
there  was  no  National  Church,  one  religious 
society  had  as  much  claim  to  my  regard  as 
another.  Though  I  considered  myself  to  be- 
long to  the  Episcopal  Church,  it  was  only  (to 
my  mind)  a  matter  of  choice.  I  was  accus- 
tomed to  her  mode  of  worship,  and  preferred 
it  to  any  other.  That  was  all ;  I  had  no 
idea  of  her  claims  on  my  faith  and  obe- 
dience. 

One  Sunday  notice  was  given  of  the  ex- 
pectation of  an  approaching  visitation  of  the 
Bishop  of  the  Diocese,  and  candidates  for 
confirmation  were  desired  to  give  in  their 
names  to  the  rector  of  the  parish.  Of  course, 
this  furnished  us  with  matter  of  conversation 
as  we  sat  on  the  shady  side  of  the  church, 
eating  apples  and  gingerbread  during  inter- 
mission. 

''I  never  saw  a  confirmation  but  once," 


70  THE  emigrant's  QL'EST.  . 

said  J enn J.  "  That  was  nearly  three  years 
ago.  You  were  not  there,  father.  At  that 
time  there  were  only  seven  persons  confirm- 
ed.^' 

"  When  I  was  confirmed  there  were  near- 
ly seven  hundred,"  said  I. 

"  Oh,  father !  How  I  should  like  to  see  so 
many." 

"A  confirmation  in  England  is  a  very 
pretty  sight,"  said  my  wife.  The  candi- 
dates are  all  young,  and  the  girls  wear  no 
bonnets,  but  have  little  close  white  caps  on 
their  heads ;  though  some  wear  lawn  veils 
instead,  which  almost  cover  them.  They  are 
usually  dressed  in  white,  too,  and  sit  all  to- 
gether, in  the  body  of  the  church." 

"  But  how  can  there  be  so  many  to  be  con- 
firmed ?"  asked  Albert. 

"  The  Bishop  does  not  visit  every  parish, 
but  only  some  large  churches,  to  which  the 
clergy  of  all  the  parishes  around,  bring  their 
candidates.  I  do  not  like  the  custom.  There 
are  more  evils  attending  it,  than  the  clergy 
imagine  ;  and,  even  if  it  did  no  harm  to  the 
candidates,  there  is  not  so  much  solemnity 
about  the  rite  where  there  are  such  numbers 
as  to  fatigue  the  Bishop,  as  there  is  when  it 
is  administered  in  every  parish,  amongst  the 


THE  CONFIRMATION-. 


71 


friends  and  neighbors  of  those  who  are  con- 
firmed." 

"  Yes,"  said  my  wife  ;  "  there  was  more 
impressive  solemnity,  in  the  quietness  and 
earnestness  of  the  confirmation  Jenny  saw, 
in  this  little  church,  than  in  any  I  ever  saw 
in  my  life." 

''Father,  how  old  were  yon,  when  you 
were  confirmed  ?"  asked  Edward. 

^'  I  was  a  little  older  than  Jenny ; — fifteen, 
or  a  little  over.  They  usually  come  to  con- 
firmation much  earlier  in  England  than  is 
the  custom  here." 

Do  you  think  me  old  enough  to  be  con- 
firmed ?"  asked  Edward,  flushing  to  his  fore- 
head. 

"  Certainly,  Edward.  But  confirmation 
implies  a  great  deal.  Have  you  made  up 
your  mind  to  go  on,  if  you  take  tliis 
step  ?" 

"  I  think  so,  father  ;  I  have  been  thinking 
of  it  for  a  long  time." 

"  Then  we  will  speak  to  Mr.  Morrison  at 
once.  Jane,  you  look  as  if  you  wanted  to 
say  something." 

"  Do  you  think  me  too  young,  papa?" 
I  do  not,  but  perhaps  Mr.  Morrison  may. 
I  will  ask  him." 


72 


THE  EMIGEANT'S  QUEST. 


Mr.  Morrison  looked  mnch  pleased  at  find- 
ins;  Edward  a  candidate  for  confirmation, 
and  requested  liim  to  join  a  class  that  lie  was 
forming  for  particular  preparatory  instruc- 
tion. He  thought  Jenny  rather  young,  but 
still,  if  of  thoughtful,  steady  character,  not 
too  young,  to  receive  the  rite.  "  Some  were 
older  at  fifteen  than  others  at  twenty,"  he 
observed. 

"  And  Jane  is  considerably  over  fourteen," 
said  I ;  "  I  believe  she  is  half-way  towards  the 
completion  of  her  fifteenth  year." 

The  two  names  were  accordingly  entered 
— the  first  that  had  been  given  in — and 
Edward  and  Jane  were  both  required  to 
give  their  attendance  at  the  confirmation 
class. 

"  Year  by  year,  I  feel  more  and  more  the 
necessity  of  having  the  preparation  for  con- 
firmation deep  and  thorough,"  said  Mr.  Mor- 
rison ;  "  I  am  afraid  that,  at  one  time,  I  was 
sadly  remiss  on  this  point,  and  thought  it 
enough  that  the  candidates  should  be  in 
earnest  in  their  professions.  I  now  feel  that 
they  cannot  be  too  well  grounded  in  the  doc- 
trines, and  instructed  in  the  practice,  of  reli- 
gion. I  have  met  with  some  sad  disappoint- 
ments amongst  those  whom  I,  at  one  time, 


THE  COXFIRMATION. 


73 


regarded  as  most  valuable  members,  and  am 
afraid  I  prepared  the  way  for  disappointment 
by  my  own  neglect." 

"  The  Catechism  seems  a  very  full  compen- 
dium of  doctrine  and  precept,"  said  I. 

"  It  is.  But  many  of  those  who  come  to 
us  for  confirmation,  have  had  no  early  ac- 
quaintance with  the  Catechism ;  and,  though 
they  learn  it  now,  as  they  are  required  to  do, 
it  is  often  without  much  sense  of  its  teach- 
ings being  binding  upon  them.  So  it  has 
come  to  pass,  that  I  have  found  amongst  my 
flock,  some  who  object  to  infant  baptism, 
some  who  disbelieve  in  eternal  punishment, 
and  some,  who  hold  unscriptural  and  danger- 
ous opinions  of  our  Saviour.  I  was  a  long 
time  in  finding  out  these  things,  for  it  seems 
a  point  of  common  honesty,  that  one  should 
hold  the  doctrines,  and  conform  to  the 
usages,  of  a  body  to  which  he  deliberately 
joins  himself ;  but  there  is  a  terrible  laxity 
of  principle  in  some  people's  way  of  regard- 
ing religious  duties,  especially  those  whicli 
are  matters  of  faith.  It  would  seem,  some- 
times, as  if  the  truths  which  the  Son  of  God 
came  down  from  heaven  to  establish,  and  for 
which  martyrs  have  shed  their  blood,  were 
considered  of  no  importance  at  all  to  many 
7 


74 


THE  EMIORANT's  QUEST. 


who  call  tliemselves  Cliristians.  Your  Eng- 
lish clergy  have  not  so  much  to  fear  from 
evils  of  this  kind.  I  suppose  their  examina- 
tions for  confirmations  are  very  easily  man- 
aged." 

"  There  are  different  usages  in  different 
parishes,  I  think.  Examination  in  the  Cate- 
chism is,  I  should  suppose,  never  omitted  by 
those  who  examine  most  slightly;  but,  in 
many  parishes,  classes  are  under  instruction 
for  many  weeks,  and  in  some,  the  clergy  are 
very  particular  not  to  grant  tickets  for  con- 
firmation to  any  who  they  have  not  reason 
to  suppose  will  live  suitably  to  their  profes- 
sion in  that  rite.  But,  as  you  observed,  sir, 
things  are  very  different  in  England.  There, 
every  child  is  brought  up  to  learn  the  Cate- 
chism, and,  whether  it  influences  his  conduct 
or  not,  it  is  pretty  certain  to  remain  in  his 
memory,  and  to  exercise  some  influence  over 
his  belief" 

"  It  is  strange,  that  I  have  never  m^t  with 
English  peasants  who  seemed  to  be  Church- 
men. Sometimes  they  are  Methodists,  and 
sometimes  a  worthless,  irreligious  set,  who 
call  themselves  Churchmen,  but  whose  only 
claim  to  the  title  rests  on  their  having  been 
baptized.    But  I  must  talk  with  you  again 


THE  CONFIRMATION. 


75 


on  this  subject,  Mr.  Grey.  At  present  I 
have  no  time  to  spare,  as  the  bell  informs 
me." 

I  had  never  felt  myself  really  at  home  in 
our  Church,  till  the  day  on  which  my  chil- 
dren were  confirmed.  Why  it  should  have 
been  so,  I  could  hardly  have  told  at  the 
time,  but  I  have  since  thought  of  several 
reasons,  amongst  which  I  may  mention  two 
or  three. 

In  the  first  place,  the  church  was  filled, 
and  thus  looked  more  like  the  parish  churches 
of  my  native  land,  where  I  had  rarely  seen 
other  than  full  congregations. 

In  the  second  place,  while  I  had  found 
Morning  and  Evening  Prayer,  the  Litany, 
the  Baptismal  Ofiice^,  and  the  Burial  Ser- 
vice, in  some  re&pects  changed  from  the  old 
formularies,  I  now  found  a  portion  of  the 
Prayer-book  that  had  remained  unaltered. 
The  Bishop,  whose  vestments  resembled 
those  of  the  bishops  I  had  previously  seen, 
pronounced  over  the  kneeling  candidates  the 
same  words  that  I  had  heai'd  accompanying 
the  gentle  pressure  of  Apostolic  hands  on  my 
own  head,  nearly  thirty  years  before.  The 
same  vow^s  were  made,  the  same  prayers  of- 
fered up,  and,  in  my  heart,  I  felt  as  if  kneel- 


76  THE  EMIGEAJSTT's  QUEST. 

ing  beside  my  children,  and  renewing  with 
them  my  baptismal  vows.  I  was  at  home — 
at  home  again.  This  Church  was,  indeed, 
MY  OWN  Church. 


CHAPTEE  VIII. 


VISIT  FKOM  THE  MOEKISONS. 

HE  religious  character  of  your 
countrymen,  at  least  of  tlie  gen- 
erality of  those  I  have  met  with, 
puzzles  ine  very  much,"  said 
Mr.  Morrison  to  me,  a  few  days  after  the  con- 
firmation. 

According  to  previous  agreement,  we  had 
sent  Edward  with  the  team,  in  the  morning,  to 
bring  all  the  family  to  spend  the  day  with  us. 
The  little  Morrisons  were,  with  Albert  and 
Emily,  hen's-nesting  in  the  bam  and  farm- 
yard ;  Mrs.  Morrison  was  chatting  with  my 
wife  in  the  parlor,  and  Mr.  Morrison  and  I 
had  taken  our  seats  on  the  little  verandah  (or 
stoop^  as  all  the  neighbors  called  it),  where, 
partially  screened  by  the  lilacs,  and  shaded 
from  the  sun  by  a  row  of  maples,  we  were 
so  comfortable  as  to  feel  no  disposition  to 
quit  the  spot. 

"  I  cannot  understand,'^  continued  Mr. 
7* 


78 


THE  emigrant's  QUEST. 


Morrison,  "how  it  happens,  that,  in  a  coun- 
try where  the  truths  of  religion  are  certainly- 
very  generally  taught,  people  can  grow  up  so 
extremely  ignorant  on  such  subjects,  as  I 
have  found  the  mass  of  English  emigrants  to 
be.  I  read  in  books  of  a  peasant  popula- 
tion, who  are  modest  and  prudent,  sensible 
and  religious,  even  though  ignorant  and  pre- 
judiced ;  but  I  find  no  specimens  of  such  a 
class  amongst  the  emigrants  to  our  shores. 
Pray  tell  me,  Mr.  Grey,  does  such  a  class  ex- 
ist in  reality,  or  is  it  to  be  found  only  in  the 
pages  of  fiction  ?" 

"  There  certainly  are  such  characters  to  be 
found  in  England,"  I  replied,  "  but  there  are 
a  good  many  reasons  why  you  should  never 
have  encountered  any.  Men  who  are  sober 
and  industrious,  honest  and  religious,  have 
fewer  inducements  to  leave  their  homes  than 
others.  Foreign  emigration  takes  ofi*  the 
scum  of  our  population,  just  as,  in  this  coun- 
try, the  same  class  is  drifted  off  to  the  fron- 
tiers J' 

"  But  what  surprises  me,"  observed  Mr. 
Morrison,  is  .  that  it  is  chiefly  amongst 
those  who  claim  to  belong  to  the  Church, 
that  so  much  evil  is  to  be  found.  The  Meth- 
odists, on  the  contrary,  receive  some  of  their 


VISIT  FROM  THE  MORRISONS.  79 


best  members  by  emigration,  and  they  have 
the  same  ties  to  bind  them  to  England  as 
their  worthy  neighbors  who  are  Church- 
men." 

"  Hardly,"  I  replied.  "  No  English  Wes- 
leyan  or  Dissenter  is  as  strongly  attached  to 
his  native  land  as  is  the  English  Church- 
man." 

"  Well,  perhaps  not.  There  must  be  the 
dissatisfaction  with  the  established  religion, 
of  course,  to  prevent." 

"  And  then,"  pursued  I,  "  when  Church- 
men emigrate,  those  who  are  sincerely  and 
warmly  attached  to  the  establishment  usually 
go  where  they  can  still  enjoy  its  advantages, 
and  where  they  can  still  remain  under  the 
same  civil  government.  In  our  country, 
loyalty  and  sound  Churchmanship  go  to- 
gether." 

"  How  do  you  reconcile  that  statement 
with  your  own  case  ?"  asked  the  clergyman, 
smiling  a  little. 

"  By  acknowledging  that  there  was  not 
much  sound  Churchmanship  in  my  case,"  I 
replied.  I  did  not  regard  such  matters  as 
of  paramount  importance.  If,  before  leav- 
ing England,  I  had  thought  as  I  do  now  on 
this  subject,  I  should  never  have  had  the 


80 


THE  EMIGRAXt's  QUEST. 


pleasure  of  making  your  acquaintance,  Mr. 
Morrison." 

That  being  the  case,  though  I  regret  that 
you  once  estimated  your  religious  privileges 
too  lightly,"  rejoined  Mr.  Morrison,  I  think 
you  are  not  likely  to  fall  into  that  error  a 
second  time.  I  can  easily  fancy  that,  to  one 
accustomed  to  find  the  Church  in  every  little 
hamlet,  the  spiritual  destitution  of  our  New 
World  must  appear  frightful.  How  many 
parish  churches  were  there,  Mr.  Grey,  within 
a  circuit  of — say,  twelve  miles  around  your 
former  home  ?" 

"  Twelve  miles  !  Indeed  I  could  not  say. 
There  were  over  ten,  within  a  circuit  of  six 
miles,  I  should  think." 

And  here — note  the  difference  r  I  am  the 
only  clergyman  of  our  Church,  within  twelve 
miles." 

''But,"  said  I,  "there  is  a  difference  in 
your  duties.  An  English  clergyman  is  ex- 
pected to  visit  all  in  his  parish,  while  you  are 
required  to  exercise  pastoral  care  and  over- 
sight only  amongst  the  members  of  your  con- 
gregation, who  do  not  constitute  a  twentieth 
part  of  the  population." 

^'But  these  members  are  scattered  over 
the  country,  often  miles  away  from  church. 


VISIT  FROM  THE  MORRISONS.  81 


Believe  me,  Mr.  Grey,  it  is  easier  to  deal 
with  a  dense  population,  than  with  these  un- 
manageable distances.  What  can  one  do 
with  such  an  extent  of  country  ?  Must  it  be 
left  entirely  uncared  for  ?  I  find  it  sufficient- 
ly difficult  to  keep  watch  over  my  own  con- 
gregation, and  yet  I  can  hardly  reconcile 
myself  to  the  idea  of  making  no  effort  to 
bring  the  homeless,  wandering  sheep  around 
us  into  the  Saviour's  fold." 

"  But  what  can  you  do  ?"  I  asked. 

Mr.  Morrison  did  not  reply  for  a  few  mo- 
ments, and  when  he  spoke  again,  he  seemed 
to  have  quitted  the  subject. 

"  I  noticed  amongst  the  books  on  your 
parlor  table,  that  charming  little  work,  '  The 
Eectory  of  Valehead.'  You  have  read  it,  I 
have  no  doubt." 

"  More  than  once.  It  is  a  great  favorite 
with  my  wife." 

"Perhaps  you  remember  a  passage  in 
which  the  author  compares  the  Church  to 
'  those  perfect  bodies  in  unorganized  nature, 
which,  however  you  divide  them,  and  how- 
ever far  you  carry  your  division,  still  present, 
though  on  a  lessening  scale,  parts  similar  to 
each  other,  and  to  the  whole.'  Do  you  re- 
member that  idea,  Mr.  Grey  ?" 


82 


THE  EMTGRANt'^S  QUEST. 


"  Quite  well.  It  is  the  leading  idea  of  tlie 
book.  The  household  of  Yalehead  is  a  min- 
iature Church,  having  its  liturgy,  adapted  to 
its  own  peculiarities,  its  anniversaries  of  joy- 
ous or  sorrowful  events  in  the  family,  its — • 
but  I  am  forgetting  that  you  have  read  the 
work,  Mr.  Morrison.'^ 

"Well,  I  was  thinking^ that,  if  this  idea  of 
good  Mr.  Evans  is  not  a  fanciful  one,  it 
points  out  to  us  a  double  class  of  duties  to- 
wards the  Church.  If,  in  one  relation,  we 
are  subordinate,  in  another,  we  are  at  the 
head.  So,  if  every  family  constitutes  a  min- 
iature parish,  every  parish  should  be  a  min- 
iature diocese.  In  that  case,  I  ought  to  be, 
in  one  sense,  a  bishop  ;  but  then,  where  shall 
I  find  my  staff  of  clergy 

"Ah  [  you  think  there  are  none  willing  to 
work  under  your  direction,  Mr.  Morrison. 
I  hope  you  are  mistaken,  if  you  really 
suppose  that  to  be  the  case.  You  could  or- 
ganize a  band  of  earnest  laborers  in  this  par- 
ish, I  am  very  sure,  if  you  feel  in  need  of 
their  services.'^ 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  Ah !  here  comes  our 
worthy  friend,  Mr.  Bowen,*'  as  the  good  old 
gentleman  appeared  at  the  gate  ;  "  you  took 
us  quite  by  surprise,  my  dear  sir.    We  were 


VISIT  FROM  THE  MORPwTSONS.  S3 

talking  so  earnestly,  that  you  were  close 
upon  us  before  we  percieived  you." 

"I  heard  nothing,"  replied  the  Squire; 
"  but  you  were  hatching  some  dreadful  plot, 
I'll  engage ;  so  you  had  better  confess  at 
once,  before  you  are  found  out." 

"  Yes,  we  are  plotting,"  said  Mr.  Morrison, 

Church  matters,  as  nsual.  Do  you  know 
this  parish  has  just  been  developed  into  a 
diocese  ?  I  am  coming  out  bishop,  of  course, 
but  where  are  my  clergy  ?" 

^'  Well,"  said  Mr.  liowen,  as  our  pastor 
paused  for  a  reply,  "  where  are  they  ?  I  am 
afraid  echo  must  answer,  where  .^" 

Why,  don't  you  think,"  said  I,  very  quick- 
ly, that  the  laymen  of  the  parish  will  con- 
sider it  a  privilege  to  assist  Mr.  Morrison  in 
any  way  in  w^hich  they  can  be  useful  ?" 

But  in  what  way  can  that  be  done  ?  I 
thought  nothing  would  do  but  a  parochial 
call,  once  a  month  at  least,  from  the  clergy- 
man himself." 

This  was  half  aside^  to  me,  but  Mr.  Morri- 
son answered  : 

"  Of  course,  that  would  be  impossible,  in 
a  scattered  population  like  ours  ;  and  yet,  all 
the  people  who  have  no  other  religious  at- 
tachments, should  be,  in  one  respect,  under 


84  THE  emigrant's  quest. 


my  care.  Now,  if  my  lay-ministers  would 
take  special  districts  in  charge,  and  report  to 
me,  say  once  a  month,  or  oftener  if  any  case 
needed  prompt  attention,  it  would  certainly 
make  me  better  acquainted  with  the  wants 
of  the  people  at  large,  than  I  could  become 
without  such  aid.  I  believe  I  shall  begin  to 
organize  my  forces  at  once,  by  appointing 
Messrs.  Bowen  and  Grey  to  this  school  dis- 
trict, and  requesting  a  report  from  them  on 
the  first  of  next  month.^' 

"  We  are  expected  to  perform  all  the  lay 
duties  of  deacons,  I  suppose?"  said  Mr. 
Bowen. 

"  Exactly  so : — '  To  search  out  the  sick, 
poor,  and  impotent  people  of  the  parish  ;  to 
intimate  their  estates,  names,  and  places 
where  they  dwell,  unto  the  curate ;  to  fash- 
ion your  own  lives,  and  the  lives  of  your 
families,  according  to  the  doctrines  of  Christ ; 
and  to  make  both  yourselves  and  them,  as 
much  as  in  you  lieth,  wholesome  examples  of 
the  flock  of  Christ.'  These  are  duties  which 
should  command  themselves  to  the  con- 
sciences of  all  Christians,  my  friends,  and 
such  as  there  caii  be  no  impropriety  in  your 
undertaking  to  perform  for  the  good  of  the 
Church.    I  think  to  these  duties  may  be 


VISIT  FROM  THE  MORRISONS.  85 


added  the  holding  of  lay  services  in  some  of 
the  school-houses  around.  Our  parishes  re- 
quire outposts." 

"Seriously,''  said  Mr.  Bo  wen,  "I  think 
such  a  plan  might  work  wxU  in  our  parish  ; 
and,  as  soon  as  you  have  arranged  the  details 
to  your  satisfaction,  you  may  be  sure  of  the 
active  co-operation  of  your  parishioners,  in 
carrying  your  schemes  into  effect." 

"  Thank  you,  most  heartily.  I  will  lose  no 
time  in  preparing  a  working  plan  ;  and  may 
God  bless  our  endeavors  to  His  glory,  and 
the  salvation  of  many  souls !" 

"  Do  you  know,"  continued  Mr.  Mon^ison, 
after  a  pause,  "I  have  been  speculating  a 
little  on  your  family,  Mr.  Grey  ?  I  have 
thought,  that  my  parish  might  furnish  some- 
thing more  than  under-workmen  in  the 
Lord's  vineyard.  Edward  is  a  youth  w^hose 
talents  and  turn  of  mind  seem  to  mark  him 
out  as  particularly  fitted  for  the  duties  of  the 
Ministry." 

A  thrill  ran  through  me  at  the  thought, 
and  I  felt  that  our  pastor  w^as  right,  though 
I  should  hardly  have  had  the  courage  to 
make  such  a  discovery  myself.  It  seemed 
like  presumption,  in  me,  to  think  of  a  son  of 
mine  as  a  sworn  priest  of  the  Most  High. 
8 


86 


THE  EMIGEAot's  quest. 


^'  Would  you  feel  willing  to  give  up  your 
first-bom  to  such  a  duty  ?"  asked  Mr.  Mor- 
rison. 

"If  he  desires  it,  and  it  is  in  my  power  to 
forward  his  wishes,  I  should  think  it  wrong 
to  oppose  his  obeying  a  divine  call." 

"  I  am  almost  sure  that  it  is  the  great  de- 
sire of  his  life — ^imconsciously,  perhaps ;  as  he 
probably  has  never  thought  of  such  a  wish 
being  gratified,  and  is  too  modest  to  think 
that  his  talents  could  fit  him  for  extensive 
usefulness.  That  is  a  point  on  which  others 
can  judge  better  than  one's  self,  or  the  mem- 
bers of  one's  own  family  ;  and  it  is  on  that 
account,  that  I  have  taken  the  liberty  of 
broaching  the  subject  to  you.  "With  your 
permission,  I  will  go  in  and  find  out  Mrs. 
Grey's  opinion." 

"I  suppose  we  shall,  some  day^  have  a 
chance  of  seeing  a  clergyman  who  does  his 
duty,"  said  Mr.  Bowen,  in  a  tone  of  good- 
humored  raillery  as  our  worthy  rector  left 
us  ;  "  or,  perhaps,  the  infiuence  of  climate  or 
circumstances  may  prove  too  strong,  even  for 
Edward." 

"  My  dear  sir,  I  have  long  ago  retracted,  in 
a  great  measure,  my  first  unjust  opinions  of 
the  American  clergy.  It  is  true,  they  do  not 


VISIT  FROM  THE  MORRISONS. 


87 


give  themselves  up,  body  and  soul,  to  the  dis- 
charge of  the  duties  of  their  station,  as  I 
have  known  their  brethren  at  home  to  do, 
but  I  can  now  see  that  they  have  trials  of 
the  most  wearing  description,  of  which  our 
parochial  clergy  have  no  experience. 

"  For  example  ?"  said  my  friend,  inquir- 
ingly. 

"  For  example  :  the  uncertainty  of  income, 
and  its  depending  on  the  likes  and  dislikes 
of  individuals  ;  and  the  consequent  neces- 
sity of  having  a  church  filled  with  those  who 
are  able  to  contribute  to  its  support,  rather 
than  w^ith  those  who,  in  other  lands,  are  the 
principal  objects  of  a  pastor's  care — the  poor 
of  the  flock." 

"  That  is  an  evil  that  the  systems  of  en- 
dowed livings  and  free  churches  will  eradi- 
cate," said  Mr.  Bowen  ;  "  but  at  present,  it 
is  a  day  of  small  things  with  us,  and  I,  at 
least,  cannot  hope  to  see  '  the  good  time  com- 
ing.' Edward  may,  and  may  contribute  to 
bring  it  about,  too." 

"  Then  there  is  the  custom  of  frequent 
change,"  continued  I,  "  which  never,  in  the 
end,  works  well  either  for  pastor  or  people. 
It  is  impossible,  that  the  rector  of  a  parish, 
who  expects  to  remain  for  only  a  few  years, 


88 


THE  EMIGEAXT'S  QUEST. 


can  lay  out  any  extensive  plans  of  usefulness 
among  liis  people.  There  is  no  nse  in  plan- 
ning what  he  will  not  be  suftered  to  remain 
long  enough  to  carry  out." 

"  How  different,"  said  Mr.  Bowen,  "  from 
what  the  state  of  things  might  be,  if  a  cler- 
gyman could  enter  on  a  charge,  feeling  that 
it  was  probably  to  be  his  life-long  work,  and 
that  he  must  be  deeply  responsible  for  the 
well-being  of  a  people  amongst  whom  he  is 
to  pass  his  days,  as  their  teacher  and  minis- 
ter in  sacred  things.  I  am  afraid  this  eyil  is 
beyond  remedy,  in  our  case.  I  have  no 
doubt,  neighbor,  that  in  your  own  country, 
changes  would  be  frequent  if  they  could  be 
made  at  the  will  of  the  parish." 

In  one  respect,  however,  the  American 
clergyman  has  a  less  arduous  task  than  the 
English,"  I  resumed,  after  a  pause ;  "  the 
country  parson  finds  so  many  secular  duties 
attaching  to  his  position,  that,  to  discharge 
them  rightly,  he  needs  a  great  deal  of  busi- 
ness tact,  quickness  and  decision  of  character, 
and  a  capability  of  governing,  that  is  less  re- 
quisite here,  where  the  spiritual  needs  of  the 
parish  are  all  that  he  is  required  to  attend 
to." 

''Perhaps,  on  the  whole,  the  scales  are 


VISIT  FKOM  THE  MORRISONS. 


89 


more  evenly  balanced  than  we  supposed,  at  a 
first  glance,"  said  Mr.  Bowen ;  "  but  I  am 
still  inclined  to  think,  that  the  English  cler- 
gyman would  find  himself  a  little  the  better 
ofi*.  However,  if  Edward,  ten  years  hence, 
is  of  the  contrary  opinion,  I  shall  be  better 
pleased  than  if  he  should  agree  with  me. 
He  is  a  dear,  good  boy,  Mr.  Grey,  and  I 
hope  his  future  career  will  be  equally  useful 
and  happy." 

"  I  am  happier  than  I  ever  hoped  to  be," 
said  my  wife  that  night,  after  we  had  held  a 
long  conversation  with  Edward ;  "  I  can  now 
see  how  good  may  come  out  of  evil.  It  al- 
most broke  my  heart  to  leave  home,  and  I 
never  dreamed  the  time  would  come  when  I 
should  be  glad  of  it.  But  it  has  come  now. 
It  has  always  been  one  of  my  castles  in  the 
air,  that  Edward  should  be  a  clergyman,  and 
you  know  that  would  have  been  next  to  im- 
possible, situated  as  we  were." 

"  Very  true,"  said  I ;  "  most  likely  he 
would  have  become  a  Methodist  preacher, 
like  your  brother  Thomas." 

"  Yes,  most  likely.  Do  you  suppose,  Ed- 
ward, that  poor  Tom  would  have  left  the 
Church,  if  he  could  have  worked  for  it  as  he 
is  working  for  the  Wesleyans  ?  I  have  often 
8* 


90 


THE  emigrant's  QUEST. 


heard  him  say,  that  he  loves  the  Church  as 
much  as  Wesley  ever  did,  and  that  he  holds 
all  its  doctrines,  and  admires  all  its  usages." 

If  he  were  to  come  to  this  country,  he 
would  return  to  the  Church,"  said  I ;  "  there 
would  not  be  the  shadow  of  a  reason  why  he 
should  not." 

"  I  believe  I  will  write  to  him  about  it," 
said  my  wife,  in  a  sleepy  tone  ;  "  he  and  Ed- 
ward— wouldn't  it  be  nice  ?  they  may  help 
each  other  so  much  ! — out  West — ^perhaps — 
on  the  prairies" — and  I  am  inclined  to  think 
she  was  dreaming,  before  she  had  fairly 
closed  a  sentence  which  ended  with  the 
words,  "  missionary  bishop." 


CHAPTEE  IX. 


CONCLrSION. 

T  is  now  nearly  a  year  since  Edward 
entered  into  Holy  Orders,  as  a 
Deacon  of  the  American  branch  of 
onr  own  dear  birth-right  Church ; 
and  now  it  may  be  supposed,  that  we  have 
fully  succeeded  in  finding  the  spiritual  rest- 
ing place,  of  whose  identity  we  were,  at  first, 
so  doubtful. 

It  may  be  thought,  by  some,  that  there  is 
not  much  connection  between  the  means  and 
the  end,  and  that  I  have  not  given  any  very 
cogent  reasons  for  our  coming  to  this  conclu- 
sion. I  do  not  pretend  to  have  written  a 
logical  treatise,  but  only  a  simple  little  narra- 
tive of  some  circumstances  in  the  history  of 
a  plain,  unpretending  household  ;  and  it  ap- 
pears to  me,  in  penning  them  down,  that 
others  may  find,  as  we  have  done,  that  the 
best  way  to  enjoy  the  privileges  and  comforts 
of  the  Church,  is  to  identify  ourselves  with  her 


92 


THE  emigrant's  QUEST. 


interests,  and  live  up  to  her  precepts  as  far 
as  possible.  If  we  hold  ourselves  aloof,  we 
are  likely  to  think  we  have  found  only  a  cold 
step-mother,  instead  of  our  own  loving,  cher- 
ishing parent ;  and,  missing  the  social  friend- 
liness, and  the  constant  pastoral  care,  to 
which  we  have  been  accustomed,  we  soon 
regard  ourselves,  and  are  regarded  by  others, 
as  strangers  in  our  Father's  house. 

Perhaps  our  American  brethren  might  do 
more  to  aid  us  in  making  ourselves  at  home 
amongst  them.  Had  not  Mr.  Bowen  advised 
me  as  a  brother  might  have  done,  things 
would  have  gone  very  diflerently  with  my 
family.  But  we  must  have  patience,  if  we 
are  neglected  and  slighted  for  a  few  years. 
In  a  change  of  situations,  we  might  have 
found  it  difficult  to  care  for  the  stranger,  es- 
pecially where  there  were  unpleasant  pecu- 
liarities, and  no  particular  claims  to  regard 
on  account  of  wealth,  or  talents,  or  connec- 
tions. It  is  very  difficult  to  carry  out  in 
practice,  the  Apostolic  rule,  "  Honor  all 
men."  It  is  much  easier  to  be  critical  and 
supercilious,  and  to  forget  that  those  whose 
habits,  and  manners,  and  modes  of  speech, 
differ  from  ours,  may  yet  have  perceptions  as 


CONCLUSION. 


93 


quick,  feelings  as  keen,  and  souls  as  valuable, 
as  our  own. 

It  is  often,  too,  that  one  is  disappointed. 
In  showing  kindness  to  all  strangers,  and  es- 
pecially to  those  who  come  from  the  land  of 
our  fore-fathers,  that  land  through  which  the 
blessings  of  religion  descended  to  us,  how 
often  we  find,  that  the  objects  of  our  interest 
prove  to  be  such  as  we  could  not  wish  for  the 
associates  of  our  families,  and  mortify,  as 
W'cll  as  grieve  us,  by  sinking  from  one  stage 
of  degradation  to  another.  Perhaps  such 
may  be  our  experience,  in  nine  cases  out  of 
ten,  but  if  the  tenth  prove  otherwise,  surely 
we  have  encouragement  enough.  We  are 
not  to  expect  every  effort  to  be  crowned  with 
immediate  success  (though  no  earnest,  no  de- 
vout endeavor  will  ever  entirely  fail),  but  if 
we  withhold  our  exertions,  and  one  of 
Christ's  little  ones  suffers  harm  through  our 
neglect  or  contempt,  it  were  better  for  us 
that  a  mill-stone  were  hanged  about  our 
neck,  and  we  were  drowned  in  the  depths  of 
the  sea ! 


Deacidified  using  the  Bookkeeper  process. 
Neutralizing  agent:  Magnesium  Oxide 
Treatment  Date:  April  2006 

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