The Rectory,
Little Pottering,
April 1st, 1917.
My LORD ARCHBISHOP,—I am writing to ask whether Your Grace would be so kind as to assist me in resolving a case of conscience which, I feel sure, must be exercising the minds and hearts of many of my brother clergy at the present time.
The matter to which I refer is closely connected with the sad shortage of paper. It is no doubt known to Your Grace that many ministers of the Gospel, though capable of eloquence of a high order, write their sermons. Old sermons tend to increase and multiply at an alarming rate. I myself have a chest of drawers literally stuffed with them. What, in Your Grace's opinion, should be done with these?
Would it be right, in view of the purpose for which they were written, to tear them up and send them away to be pulped? Long and earnestly as I have considered the problem in all its bearings I am still utterly unable to arrive at a solution.
No doubt I could sell them and devote the proceeds to charitable purposes. There is, I am informed, a large and steady demand for old sermons amongst the younger clergy who have not that ripe experience of life which sixty years in a rural parish cannot fail to provide. But I am informed that the dealers do not always offer appropriate prices. And I should hesitate to make a traffic in holy things unless I could make quite certain that no breath of scandal could result from inadequate remuneration.
I have sounded my churchwardens on the subject, but without reaping any benefit from the advice given. "Do you see any harm in selling them simply as paper?" I asked one of them, a Mr. Bloggs. "Not a rap! Not a rap! Get rid of 'em!" was his reply. Naturally I felt hurt. It was not so much what he said as the way he said it. The mere mention of my sermons always seems to make him irritable. Why I cannot imagine.
My dear wife advises me to send them down to the schoolhouse. The children, she thinks, might use the backs (I write on one side of the paper only) for their sums. But I fear such an expedient might give rise to a spirit of irreverence.
Would Your Grace hold me greatly to blame were I to raffle them at our next rummage sale? I feel sure they would fetch a good price. Only yesterday Miss Tabitha Gingham remarked to her sister, Miss Mary, "We had a good long sermon from the Rector this morning." I was passing behind their laurel hedge at the moment, and could not fail to overhear this meed of praise. Miss Tabitha is, I should explain, very hard to please, and if she thinks them good there must be others in the parish of the same opinion. I might be able to raise quite a nice sum for our local Seed Potato Committee by a Spring raffle of my longer and more elaborate compositions. And since everybody is beginning to take a modern view of Bonus Bonds I do not think that a raffle for such a purpose need arouse serious opposition.
Trusting that Your Grace will be able to give me your considered opinion in this matter, which is arousing so much attention at the present time,
I am, Your Grace's humble and obedient Servant,
LAURENCE LONGWIND.