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That is enough, a great man _settles_ things; a small one nibbles away at petty reforms, although he knows nothing is settled thereby, and that the question is only pushed ahead for the time to break out again directly. English politicians are mostly nibblers, though Gladstone can take a good bite when put to it.
Will you lay "violent hands upon the Lord's anointed?" "I'll anoint ye!"
says Cromwell, and then, I take it, was settled for the future the "divine right of kings" theory; for since that time these curious appendages of a free state have been kept for show, and we hear nothing more of the "divinity which doth hedge a king." Some one of the party remarked that we had not seen a statue or even a picture of England's great Protector. I told them a wise man once said that the reason Cromwell's statue was not put among those of the other rulers of England at Westminster was because he would dwarf them. But his day is coming.
We shall have him there in his proper place by and by, and how small hereditary rulers will seem beside him!
[Sidenote: _Cromwell at Drury Lane._]
We noticed in the _Pall Mall Gazette_ a curious proof of Cromwell's place in the hearts of the people of England. The pantomime at Drury Lane had a scene in which all the Kings and Queens of England marched across the stage in gorgeous procession. Each was greeted with cheers or hisses or with more or less cordial greeting as the audience thought deserved. When Cromwell appeared in the line a few hisses were answered by round after round of cheering, and the Lord Protector nightly received a popular ovation far beyond that accorded to any other ruler.
That the manager of the leading theatre in London should have thought it admissible to introduce the Republican among the Kings is a straw which shows a healthy breeze blowing in the political currents of English life.
He was truly a host in himself; besides, his men were fighting for something better than had been, the others only for maintaining what had before existed. It is this which drives Conservatives to the wall when radicalism moves in earnest upon them. The aspirations of the race for further and higher development nerve the arm which strikes down the barriers of an ignorant past. Who could battle enthusiastically only for such incomplete and unsatisfactory development as we have already reached and p.r.o.nounce it good! The prize is not worth it. What the race is capable of achieving in the broad future is the mainspring of our a.s.sault upon every abuse or privilege, the heritage of the past which disgraces the present.
At Preston many of us received letters from home. Harry's funny one from his little daughter Emma (a namesake of our Emma of the Charioteers) gave us a good laugh. I remember there was one announcement particularly noteworthy: "Ninety dollars gone to smash, papa. The pony's dead." There is your future special correspondent for you.
At eleven o'clock this evening the party received a notable addition--Andrew M., my old schoolfellow and "the Maester's son,"
arrived from Dunfermline. He was received at the station by a committee especially appointed for the purpose, and shortly thereafter duly initiated into all the rites and mysteries of the Gay Charioteers. He was required, late as it was, to sing two Scotch songs to determine his eligibility. There may be some man who can sing "Oh! why left I my hame?"--my favorite at present, and written by Gilfillan in Dunfermline, note that--or "When the kye come hame," better than our new member, but none of us has been so fortunate as to meet him, nor have I ever heard one who could sing them as well for me; but there may be a touch of Auld Lang Syne in his voice which strikes chords in my heart and sets them vibrating. There are subtle sympathies lurking in the core of man's nature, responsive to no law but their own, but I notice all press Andrew to sing, and keep very quiet when he does. We had the pleasure of seeing the new member get just as daft as the rest of us next day, gathering wild flowers along the hedgerows, the glittering, towering coach coming up to us. He had time to say: "Man, this canna be _vera_ bad for us!" No, not very; only we did not know then how bad it would be for us when, after the dream-like existence had pa.s.sed and we were back once more to our labors of this work-a-day world, thrown out as it were from a paradise and falling as Milton's Satan fell; but it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
Fortunately we did not know then that for months after our fall there were to be only sad memories of days of happiness so unalloyed that they can never again be equalled. It is not at all desirable to be honestly persuaded that you never again can have seven weeks of such days as made us happy, innocent children; but we shall see. There are as good fish in the sea as were ever caught, and though it is true they do not seem to bite as they used to, may be we can venture to try coaching again. The height of our musical season was during this part of the journey. Miss R., Miss J., and Mrs. K. are all musical and blessed with the power of song. Messrs. M., McC. and K. differ only as one star differs from another in glory; and there was another gentleman, who shall be nameless, who sang without being asked, and who, as usual, was not encored by his unappreciative audience, his being evidently the music of the future.
[Sidenote: _Scotch Songs._]
Davie deserves notice. He sang a beautiful Scotch song to-day, "Cowden Knowes," and when he was done Andrew immediately asked: "Whaur did ye get that? Ye didna get that out of a book!"
Right, my boy. It was at his father's knee. Who ever learnt a Scotch song out of books? They are possessed of souls, these songs, to be caught only from living lips. The bodies alone are to be found within the bars.
Pa.s.sing Bolton we saw the first bowling green, sure proof that we are getting northward, where every village has its green and its bowling club, the ancient game of bowls still offering to rural England attractions paramount to more modern sports.
We lunched at Grisdalebrook, ten miles from Lancaster, which was to be our stopping-place. To-day's drive was made fragrant by the scent of new-mown hay, and we pa.s.sed many bands of merry haymakers. When d.i.c.kens p.r.o.nounced no smell the best smell, he must have momentarily forgotten that which so delighted us. I do give up most of the so-called fine smells, but there are a few better than d.i.c.kens's best, and surely that of to-day is of them. We went into a Catholic church in one of our strolls--for let it be remembered many a glorious tramp we had--and the coach was rarely honored with all the party when a chance to walk presented itself. The requests posted upon the door of this church seemed to carry one back a long way:
"Of your charity pray for the soul of Rebecca Robinson, who died June 7th, 1880, fortified with rites of Holy Church, on whose soul sweet Jesus have mercy. R. I. P."
There were several such requests. What a power that church has been and is, only one who has travelled the world round can know. In England here it is but a sickly, foreign plant, so fearfully foreign. We can all repeat Buddha's words and apply them to it, but they should not stop here:
"And third came she who gives dark creeds their power, Silabbat-paramasa, sorceress, Draped fair in many lands as lowly Faith, But ever juggling souls with rites and prayers; The keeper of those keys which lock up h.e.l.ls And open Heavens. 'Wilt thou dare?' she said, 'Put by our sacred books, dethrone our G.o.ds, Unpeople all the temples, shaking down That law which feeds the priests and props the realm?'
But Buddha answered, 'What thou bidd'st me keep Is form which pa.s.ses, but the free truth stands; Get thee unto thy darkness.'"
[Sidenote: _The Roman Church._]
Say what we will about the Roman Church, there is something sublime in her att.i.tude. Neither sense nor reason make the slightest impression upon her; for she stands confident in her power and her right to save, denying the power to others, regardless of the conclusions of science and the fuller knowledge of to-day. This gives her the hold she obtains among the ignorant ma.s.ses, whether at home or abroad.
The world-wide influence of this faith can never be rightly estimated until one has visited the missions throughout India, China, and j.a.pan.
The converts are generally to the Catholic church. To-day on the coach in speaking of this, I told an inquirer that in my opinion one, if not the chief, obstacle to the success of missions to the heathen, lies in the differences between the Christian sects, and I ill.u.s.trated it by a story:
One day in China I asked our guide Ah c.u.m, a gentleman and a scholar, and a man of excellent mind, why he did not embrace Christianity. His eyes twinkled as he replied: "Where goee, eh? Goee Bishopee? (pointing to the Cathedral). He say, allee rightee. Go there? (pointing to the English church). Bishop say damme! Goee Hopper? (the American Presbyterian Missionary). He sayee Bishop churchee no goodee--h.e.l.lee firee. What I do'ee? eh!"
"Stay where you are, you rogue." Confound the fellow! I did not expect to be picked up in that manner.
Ah c.u.m was severely let alone after that upon the subject of his conversion. I have no hope of him until we agree among ourselves exactly what we wish the heathen to accept. It is in vain we preach one G.o.d and five different religions; there must be only one true religion as well.
Ah c.u.m's defence of the wors.h.i.+p of ancestors was clever. It ran thus: All religions acknowledge the Creator of life as the true object of wors.h.i.+p. Taking hold of his watch chain he began at the first link and said: "I wors.h.i.+pee my parents (pa.s.sing one link), my parents wors.h.i.+pee their parents" (pa.s.sing another link, and so on till he had pa.s.sed quite a number); "by by come to firstee, lifee G.o.ddee. You jump up sky all oncee, miss him, may be."
He thought he had a sure thing pa.s.sing up link by link to the end. We need clever missionaries to hold their own with these Celestials.
LANCASTER, July 9, 10.
[Sidenote: _Lancaster._]
We had done our twenty-nine miles from Preston and reached Lancaster in good season. There we had a treat. The High Sheriff for the county had just been elected and made his entry into town according to immemorial custom. He represents royalty in the county during his term of office, which I believe is only two years. It costs the recipient of the honor a large sum to maintain the dignities of the office, for its emoluments are nil. The sheriff was staying at our hotel, a very fine one, The County. He is wakened every morning by two heralds richly dressed in the olden style and bearing halberds. They stand in front of the hotel and sound their bugles to call His Highness forth. It is the Lord Mayor's procession on a small scale. n.o.body laughs outright at the curious mixture of feudal customs with this age's requirements, however much everybody may laugh in his sleeve; but England will have lost some picturesque features when all the shams are gone. If mankind were not greatly influenced by forms, I could wish that just enough of the "good old times"--which were very bad times indeed--could be preserved, if only to prove how far we have outgrown them; but every form and every sham, from royalty downward, carries its good or evil with it. That not only the substance should be right, but that the form should correspond truly to it, is important if we are to be honest; so I reconcile myself to the pa.s.sing away of all forms which no longer honestly represent what they imply.
Lancaster is a beautiful place and noted for its admirable charitable inst.i.tutions. The lunatic asylum and an orphanage attracted our special attention. These and kindred inst.i.tutions abound in England, and are ably conducted. Rich Englishmen do not leave their fortunes for uses of this kind as often as Americans do. The ambition to found a family, and the maintenance of an aristocratic cla.s.s by means of primogeniture and entail, tend to divert fortunes from this n.o.bler path into the meaner end of elevating a name in the social scale; but the general public in Britain is most generous, and immense sums in the aggregate are annually collected for charitable inst.i.tutions. It is common for a cla.s.s to support its own unfortunates. The commercial travellers, for instance, have an extensive home near London for children of their fellows and for members in their old age, and there is scarcely a branch of industry which does not follow this example.
[Sidenote: _A n.o.ble Charity._]
One cannot travel far without seeing that the British are a people most mindful of the unfortunate. These pretty homes of refuge and of rest we see scattered everywhere over the land, nor are they the least glorious of the many monuments of England's true worth.
A Mr. Ripley, of Lancaster, left his fortune for an orphanage, open to all orphan children born within fifteen miles of Lancaster. Three hundred are now provided for, but so rapidly has the fund grown that it has been found practicable to extend the boundaries of its beneficence, and children from distant Liverpool are now admitted. Bravo! Mr. Ripley.
What is an earldom for your eldest son to this! His father's name will carry him farther with the best, and he should be prouder of it. Show me the earl who has done as much for his neighborhood!
Lancaster Castle is a n.o.ble one. Here John o' Gaunt hundreds of years ago put his finger upon the dire root of England's woes, as far as the land goes:
"This dear, dear land, Dear for her reputation through the world, Is now _leas'd_ out."
There you have it--this England is leased out. The soil is not worked by its owners, and never, till England changes its practice and can boast a peasant proprietary working its own acres in small farms, untrammelled by vicious laws, will she know what miracles can be wrought by those who call each little spot their own--their home. Englishmen are slow to change, but the day is not far distant when owners.h.i.+p of land will depend upon residence on it and its proper cultivation. Denmark's example will be followed. c.u.mulative taxes will be levied upon each number of acres beyond a minimum number, and large proprietors taxed out of existence as they have been in Denmark, to the country's good and n.o.body's injury. We tax a man who keeps racing-horses or who sports armorial bearings. It is the same principle: we can tax a man who keeps a larger amount of land than he can work to the State's advantage. The rights of property are all very well in their place, but the rights of man and the good of the commonwealth are far beyond them. I wish England would just let me arrange that little land matter for her. It would save her a generation of agitation.
Lancaster was an ancient Roman station, as is shown by its name--Lune or Lone Castrum, the castle or camp on the Lune or Lone, the little river which washes its plain. For what saith Spencer in the Faery Queen:
"----After came the strong shallow Lone That to old Lancaster its name doth lend."
The memory of man goeth not back to the time when the first castle was built. Indeed it is of little consequence now, for it was almost entirely razed by the Scots in the fourteenth century.
[Sidenote: _Lancaster Castle._]
The present n.o.ble structure, or rather the older part of it, is the work of John O'Gaunt, that son of a king who was almost a king himself, and who became the father of kings. To him is due the magnificent Gateway Tower, flanked by two octagonal turrets sixty-six feet high, surrounded by watch-towers. Around the towers and across the curtain, perforated by the gate, which connects them, are overhanging battlements with vertical openings for pouring down molten metal or hot water on the heads of a.s.sailants. In a niche in front is a full-length statue of John O'Gaunt in the costume of his day, placed there in 1822. The sole remaining turret of the Lungess Tower, eighty-eight feet high, is called John O'Gaunt's Chair. It commands a view of great extent, comprising the hills of c.u.mberland and Westmoreland and nearly the whole extent of the valley of the Lune, with the Irish Sea in the distance.
Some moralists, who believe that men and times are degenerate, may lament that this grand old castle--the ancient residence of n.o.bles--should now be the abode of criminals; but, while equally desirous that its architectural wonders may be preserved, I am not inclined to admit that the thieves and cutthroats who now have their homes within its walls through the puissance of the law are any worse morally than were many of the n.o.ble barons who robbed and ravished in the good old times when the question of might versus right was always settled in favor of the plaintiff. Some of them indeed more richly merited a halter than the comfortable seclusion from the outer world accorded to their modern representatives. Even good old John O'Gaunt himself was not so virtuous that he could shy moral stones at his neighbors.
[Sidenote: _Bicycles._]
Sunday was spent in Lancaster, and much enjoyed. The service in church was fine and the afternoon's excursion to the country delightful. Here Miss A. B. and Mr. D. left us after receiving the blessing of the party.
Miss G. and Miss D., who were to join us here, failed us, but we fortunately found them waiting at Kendall. We started for that town, twenty-two miles distant, on Monday morning. It is the entrance to the celebrated Lake District. Messrs. T. and M., whom we had met at Anderton Hall, pa.s.sed us on Sat.u.r.day, before we reached Lancaster, on bicycles.
They were out for a run of a hundred and five miles that day, to visit friends beyond that city. We meet such travellers often. Their club now numbers seven thousand members. For an annual payment of half a crown (62 cents), a member has lists of routes and hotels sent him for any desired district, with the advantage of reduced charges. It is nothing to do a hundred miles per day; many have ridden from London to Bath, two hundred miles, within the twenty-four hours.
The country swarms with these fellows. I saw fifteen hundred in Bushy Park one day at a meet. I think seventy-five clubs were there, each in a different uniform. Bicycles are also growing in use for practical purposes, and many post-routes in the country are served by men who use these machines. But it takes roads like the English, and a level country, to do much with them.
Our evening was spent in visiting the ruined castle and admiring a pretty j.a.panese kind of garden, so much in so little s.p.a.ce, which attracted our attention as we pa.s.sed. The owner, Mr. T., a solicitor, kindly invited us in, and afterward showed us his house. We are always receiving kindnesses from all sorts and conditions of men.
Next day, July 12th, our objective point was Gra.s.smere, eighteen miles away. Such a lovely morning! but, indeed, we are favored beyond measure with superb weather all the time. This stage in our progress introduced us to the scenery of the lakes, and we all felt that it deserved its Wordsworth; but were we ever to let loose and enter the descriptive, where would it lead? This is the rock upon which many a fair venture in story-telling has suffered s.h.i.+pwreck. Great mountains always carry one upward, but those of the Lake District are not great, nor is there anything great in the region. All is very sweet and pleasing and has its own peculiar charm, like the school of Lake Poets.