So shall I join the choir invisible
Whose music is the gladness of the world."
One thing more about our heroine, and a grand thing, said by Colonel Ingersoll. "In the court of her own conscience she sat pure as light, stainless as a star." I believe that, my dear Colonel. Why can you not give the world such gems as you are capable of, and let us alone about future things, concerning which you know no more than a new-born babe or a D.D.?
There is a good guide-book for Coventry, and there's much to tell about that city. It was once the ecclesiastical centre of England. Parliaments have sat there and great things have been done in Coventry. Many curious and valuable papers are seen in the hall. There is the order of Queen Elizabeth to her truly and well-beloved Mayor of Coventry, directing him to assist Earls Huntingdon and Shrewsbury in good charge of Mary Queen of Scots. There is a mace given by Cromwell to the corporation. You see that ruler of men could bestow maces as well as order his troopers to "take away that bauble" when the commonwealth required nursing. These and many more rare treasures are kept in an old building which is not fire-proof—a clear tempting of Providence. If I ever become so great a man as a councillor of Coventry, my maiden speech shall be upon the enormity of this offence. A councillor who carried a vote for a fire-proof building should some day reach the mayorship. This is a hint to our friends there.
The land question still troubles England, but even in Elizabeth's time it was thought not unconstitutional to fix rents arbitrarily. Here lies an edict of Her Majesty good Queen Bess, fixing the rates for pasturage on the commons near Coventry: "For one cow per week, one penny; for one horse, two-pence." Our agriculturists should take this for a basis, a Queen Elizabeth valuation! I suppose some expert or other could figure the "fair rent" for anything, if given this basis to start upon.
Coventry Cathedral.
The churches are very fine, the stained-glass windows excelling in some respects any we have seen, the amount of glass is so much greater. The entire end of one of the cathedral churches is filled by three immense windows reaching from floor to roof, the effect of which is very grand. The choir of this church is not in line with the other portion of the building. In reply to my inquiry why this was so, the guide boldly assured us, with a look of surprise at our ignorance, that all cathedrals are so constructed, and that the crooked choir symbolizes the head of Christ, which is always represented leaning to one side of the cross. This idea made me shiver; I felt as if I should never be able to walk up the aisle of a cathedral again without an unpleasant sensation. Thanks to a clear-headed, thorough-going young lady, who, "just didn't believe it," we soon got at the truth about cathedrals, for she proved that they are everywhere built on straight lines. This guide fitly illustrates the danger of good men staying at home in their little island. His cathedral is crooked, and therefore all others are or should be so. Very English this. Very. There are many things still crooked in the dear old tight little isle which other lands have straightened out long ago, or rather never built crooked. Hurry up, you leader of nations in generations past! It's not your rôle in the world to lag behind; at least it has not been till lately, when others have "bettered your instruction." Come along, England, you are not done for; only stir yourself, and the lead is still yours. The guide was a theological student, and therefore could not be expected to have much general knowledge, but he surely should have known something about cathedrals.
It rained at Coventry during breakfast, and friend G. ventured to suggest that perhaps some of the ladies might prefer going by rail to Birmingham and join the coach there, at luncheon; but
"He did not know the stuff
Of our gallant crew, so tough,