DISSENTERS.
A rector of the Established Church, whom I met upon a railroad train, spoke to me of there being here one hundred and fifty different religious sects, but the number seemed incredible. Afterwards, however, an acquaintance pointed out to me the list in Whitaker’s Almanac for 1881. This list is headed
“Religious sects. Places of Worship.
“Places of meeting for religious worship in England and Wales have been certified to the Registrar-General on behalf of persons described as follows.”
And the list, instead of numbering one hundred and fifty only, goes up at least to one hundred and sixty-nine.
The dissenting chapel in the village which I am endeavoring to describe was a brick edifice, and the yard contained a number of conspicuous monumental stones. Two prominent sects were united to compose the congregation, and the number of communicants was one hundred and thirty. I call the building a chapel, as the English do; nothing is a church, in fashionable speech, that does not belong to the establishment.
There was within the bounds of the parish a third “meeting-house,” where the assembly is composed mainly of a few members of a religious body, generally respected, but declining in numbers. I had a letter of introduction to one of the members here, and when I spoke of her to Mrs. Jackson, the carpenter’s wife, Mrs. J. told me that I might be able to receive an introduction to others by means of her to whom the letter was addressed, who was a person of education and the wife of a retired farmer.
“Now,” I asked, “how likely shall I be to see the rector?”
“Oh, not at all!” There is such a strong feeling against dissenters is one reason why I should not meet him.
On the other hand, a dissenting minister, in speaking to me of the Established Church, remarked that the feeling against it is more political than religious. There is nothing, he added, in the doctrines of the Church of England that is repugnant to a vast number of people who attend dissenting churches; the objection is to a religious denomination which is elevated by the state over others, and consequently has greater social power and prestige.
But one whom I met at a neighboring town spoke more strongly. He was a retired farmer who had travelled in our country. He brought forward the following objections to an established church. The people have little or no choice as regards their own clergyman; they have no control over their own forms of worship; and all spiritual life is destroyed in the church.
In further conversation he said, “Can I forget that I am socially persecuted because I am a dissenter; that my father was commercially persecuted for being a dissenter,—he could not rent a farm on equal terms; that my grandfather was probably excluded from holding office for being a dissenter; and my great-grandfather, if a dissenter, would have been thrown into jail for attending a conventicle. But it may be said, ‘Why rake up old sores?’ Simply because the same persecuting spirit remains, and if the dissenters were not so strong in numbers, and consequently in political power and wealth, the same things would be done again.” He added that no farmer should be a dissenter. He himself belonged to a Liberation society. He wondered at the apathy of the Americans in not sympathizing with them in their efforts against an established church. (I have given my friend’s words from my notes, but I suspect that the date at which Quakers and others were imprisoned in England was not so recent as that of the gentleman’s great-grandfather.)
The following anecdote was given to me by another person, also a retired farmer. It concerns a man of some distinction, now dead, and who did not bear the name which I assign him. This as well as others are substitutes. My friend told me that when Carter Gray rented a mill from Lady Letitia Robyn he also rented from her a large farm, which he conducted to much profit. He built schools in his neighborhood and also a dissenting chapel, and the clergy got at the Lady Letitia and induced her to take the farm from him. But she did not take away the mill. Carter Gray was so popular that although a dissenter he was appointed a magistrate. The lord lieutenant of the county has the recommendation for magistrates and had declared against a dissenter, but Lord John Russell is supposed to have been in Mr. Gray’s favor. “Lord John was a great liberal,” added my acquaintance. “Until his persevering action in Parliament the dissenters had a hard time of it.”
In the English village I describe, I called at the modest residence of the dissenting minister. He had studied at the Baptist Theological Seminary in London. I found him to be interested in several of our home authors. Among his books were the complete works of Ralph Waldo Emerson (London: Bell & Daldy). He said that there is no one he honors more than Emerson, except, perhaps, their own Carlyle. He said that he had in his theological library Channing’s works and another man’s, Beecher,—Ward Beecher. “I have a great admiration for that man.” He had Lowell’s poems, and rejoiced in Lowell. He spoke of the “Biglow Papers,” and of the pious editor’s creed, repeating,
“I du believe in principle,
But oh! I du in interest.”