"Excuse me for interrupting you, my dear lord," said Dickiefield, "but the present Government are not so particular about the political as the theological views of their bishops. When you remember that the Prime Minister of this country is held morally accountable for the orthodoxy of its religious tenets, you must at once perceive how essential it is, not only that he should be profoundly versed in points of Scriptural doctrine himself, but that he should never appoint a bishop of whose soundness he is not from personal knowledge thoroughly satisfied."
"I have no objection to talk over the more disputed points with him," said the Bishop. "When do you think he could spare a moment?"
"The best plan would be," replied Dickiefield, with a twinkle in his eye, "to catch him in the lobby of the House some evening when there is nothing particular going on. What books of reference would you require?"
The Bishop named one, when I interrupted him, for I felt Dickiefield had not put the case fairly as regarded the first Minister of the Crown.
"It is not the Premier's fault at all," said I; "he may be the most liberal theologian possible, but he has nothing to do with doctrine; that lies in the Chancellor's department. As the supreme arbiter in points of religious belief, and as the largest dispenser of spiritual patronage in the kingdom, it is evident that the qualifications for a Lord Chancellor should be not so much his knowledge of law, as his unblemished moral character and incapacity for perpetrating jobs. He is, in fact, the principal veterinary surgeon of the ecclesiastical stable, and any man in orders that he 'warrants sound' cannot be objected to on the score of orthodoxy. The Prime Minister is just in the same position as the head of any other department,—whoever passes the competitive examination he is bound to accept, but may use his own discretion as to promotion, and, of course, sticks to the traditions of the service. The fact is, if you go into the Colonial Episcopal line you get over the heads of a lot of men who are steadily plodding on for home promotion, and, of course they don't think it fair for an outsider to come back again, and cut them out of a palace and the patronage attached to it on the strength of having been a missionary bishop. It is just the same in the Foreign Office,—if you go out of Europe you get out of the regular line. However, we shall have the judgment on the Colenso case before long, and, from the little I know of the question, it is possible you may find that you are not legally a bishop at all. In that case you will have what is far better than any interest—a grievance. You can say that you were tempted to give up a good living to go to the heathen on false pretences, and they'll have to make it up to you. You could not do better than apply for one of the appointments attached to some cathedrals, called 'Peculiars.' I believe that they are very comfortable and independent. If you will allow me I will write to my solicitor about one. Lawyers are the men to manage these matters, as they are all in with each other, and every bishop has one attached to him."
"Thank you, my lord—my observation was addressed to Lord Dickiefield," said the Bishop, very stiffly; for there was an absence of that deference in my tone to which those who love the uppermost seats in the synagogues are accustomed, but which I reserve for some poor labourers who will never be heard of in this world.
"Talking of committees," I went on, "how confused the Lord Chancellor must be between them all. He must be very apt to forget when he is 'sitting' and when he is being 'sat upon.' If he had not the clearest possible head, he would be proving to the world that Mr E—— was competent to teach the Zulus theology in spite of the Bishop of Cape Town, and that he was justified in giving Dr Colenso a large retiring pension. What with having to quote texts in one committee-room, and arithmetic in another, and having to explain the law of God, the law of the land, and his own conduct alternately, it is a miracle that he does not get a softening of the brain. Depend upon it," said I, turning to the Bishop, who looked flushed and angry, "that a 'Peculiar' is a much snugger place than the Woolsack."
"Lord Frank, permit me to say," broke in Lady Broadhem, who had several times vainly endeavoured to interrupt me, "that your manner of treating sacred subjects is most disrespectful and irreverent, and that your allusions to an ecclesiastical stable, 'outsiders,' and other racing slang, is in the worst possible taste, considering the presence of the Bishop."
"Lady Broadhem," said I, sternly, "when the money-changers were scourged out of the Temple there was no want of reverence displayed towards the service to which it was dedicated; and it seems to me, that to sell 'the Temple' itself, whether under the name of an 'advowson,' a 'living,' or a 'cure of souls,' is the very climax of irreverence, not to use a stronger term; and when the Lord Chancellor brings in an Act for the purpose of facilitating this traffic in 'souls,' and 'augmenting the benefices' derived from curing them, I think it is high time, at the risk of giving offence to my friend the Bishop, and to the ecclesiastical establishment generally, to speak out. What times have we fallen upon that the priesthood itself, once an inspiration, has become a trade?"[1]
Lady Broadhem seemed a little cowed by my vehemence, which some might have thought amounted to rudeness, but would not abandon the field. "The result," she said, "of impoverishing the Church will be, that you will only get literates to go into it; as it is, compared with other professions, it holds out no inducement for young men of family. Fortunately our own living, being worth £1200 a-year, always secures us a member of the family, and therefore a gentleman; but if you did away with them you would not have holier men, but simply worse-bred ones. I am sure we should not gain by having the Church filled with clergy of the class of Dissenting preachers."