CONCERNING BISHOPS.

An Irishman of a certain church in Shrewsbury spoke one day of "the narrow way in which there was only room for one to walk abreast."

A certain clergyman, who was preaching a sermon on behalf of a new burial ground in a large parish, spoke of the sad condition of a population of thirty thousand souls living without Christian burial.

I was driving in a car from Glengariff to Killarney with a friend, and, on starting, a ragged boy on an old white horse rode by our side joking with the driver. My friend spoke to the boy, and said, "Are you the boots at the inn at Glengariff?" To which the boy answered instantly with a grin, "Did yer honour pay the boots? For, if you didn't, I am."

This ready reply is matched by the following story which again shows the readiness to seize an opportunity of personal advantage.

Bishop Wigram of Rochester insisted on his clergy shaving, and when his successor, Bishop Claughton, came to confirm in Oswestry he sat at luncheon opposite to an Irish curate who had a large beard. The bishop, as a joke, looked across the table and said, "You know, Mr.——, if you came into my diocese you would have to shave off your beard." To which came the instant reply, "Me Lord, I accept the condition!"

At a Retreat which I conducted in 1894 one of the services was given out to be held a quarter of an hour earlier than on the printed time-table. An elderly clergyman had not heard this and came in at the printed hour, and found us singing a hymn. He found a seat and then whispered to his neighbour with a strong brogue, "Is this the end of the last service, or the beginning of the next?"

I once heard an Irish clergyman preaching at Barmouth, in recounting the mercies for which we ought to be thankful, speak of "deliverance from savage wild beasts and noxious insects of the night."

An instance of an Irish bull, which was of so natural a kind that it might have been made by any one, occurred when the Bishop and some of his sons were waiting at Athenry Station. Two farmers were overheard talking, and one said, "Will you be going by the first train to-morrow" To which came the reply, "There's no first train from here at all!"There are in the note-book a large number of entries under the heading of "Taurology," but most of the stories are already well known. One or two only need be quoted.

There are in the note-book a large number of entries under the heading of "Taurology," but most of the stories are already well known. One or two only need be quoted.

Two sisters whom I knew, Miss B——s, received a letter from a brother in Australia, and one read it aloud to the other and then began reading it to herself. The other said, "You might let me have a look at it," whereupon the first cried out, "I call that selfish: didn't I read it all aloud to you before I'd seen a word of it meself?"

I asked a Mr. B—— whom I met in July 1896 whether he was any relation to another Mr. B——, a friend of mine, to which he replied, "No: I have no relations of my own. My father was the last of his race."

An Irish footman brought for his master to put on two boots for the same foot. He was sent to rectify the mistake, but returned with the same two boots, saying, "Indeed, yer honour, it wasn't my fault, the other pair's just the same."

The difference between Scotch and Irish character comes out clearly in these stories. Connected as they almost all are with matters ecclesiastical, it is not strange to find the strong Presbyterian dislike to Anglican ceremonial cropping up in the following stories about Scotsmen. But, apart from this, the wit is of a drier kind, and the sayings of a far more sanctimonious character. Here is one about an old forester with whom the Bishop made friends during several of his holidays. This man was invited by a certain duke, whose retainer he was, to pay a visit to his English seat. On the Sunday he was taken to church, and he said afterwards that when the choir came in he thought it was some daughters of the duke and other girls dressed up, and thought it all perfectly disgraceful and making a mock of religion. When the organ played they had to hold him to prevent his going out. "It was," he said, "sic a terrible noise." Other stories follow in the Bishop's own words:

The Duchess of B—— had an old Presbyterian nurse, who was once persuaded to attend the beautiful church they had built. The Duchess afterwards asked her if it was not very beautiful, and she said, "Oh yes, very." "And the singing," said the Duchess, "was not that lovely?" "Yes, your Grace," she said, "it was lovely; but it's an awfu' way of spending the Sabbath."

A Scotch lady and her gardener used to worship together, not agreeing with any form of Church doctrine. A friend remonstrated with her and asked, "Do you really think you and your gardener are the only two real members of the true Church on earth?" To which she replied, "Weel, I'm nae sae sure o' John."

A Scotch minister from a large town once visited and preached in a rural parish, and was asked to pray for rain. He did so, and the rain came in floods and destroyed some of the crops; whereupon one elder remarked to another, "This comes o' entrusting sic a request to a meenister who isna acquentit wi' agriculture."

Bishop Wilberforce used to tell a story of a Scotch minister who always regulated his grace before meat by the prospect before him. If he saw a sumptuous table he began, "Bountiful Jehovah," but if the fare was less tempting he began, "Lord, we are not worthy of the least of Thy mercies."

Archbishop Tait when in Scotland had to sign the receipt for a registered letter before the postman, who, when he heard it was the Archbishop, looked at him and remarked, "Weel, I must say you look rather consequential about the legs."

One of the Bishop's sons was fond of sketching, and on one occasion brought back a story which the Bishop delighted in telling. This son and an artist friend arranged to go on a sketching expedition to the west coast of Scotland, and on arriving there the latter went to interview the minister of the little village which was to be their headquarters. In the course of conversation he asked the minister whether, if they attended his ministrations in the morning, he would be greatly scandalised if they did a little sketching on the Sunday afternoon, to which the good man replied, "Well, your business is to paint pictures and mine is to preach and pray. I preach and pray on the Sabbath, you paint pictures on other days. If you saw me preaching and praying on other days you would raise no objection, so I shall raise none if you paint pictures on the Sabbath." It was a curious argument, and probably it would be difficult to find another minister in all Scotland who would agree with him.A number of stories relating to sermons have already been given, but a large part of the Bishop's notebook which relates to them has not yet been touched. There are some sermons given almostin extenso, and to these it is only possible to refer briefly. The longest report of a sermon is of one that was printed after it had been delivered by an old gentleman who married his cook and thought that it was necessary to justify his action to his parishioners. He described his bride as "one of plebeian birth and the superintendent of my establishment." He based his explanation on the fact that he himself was of such extraordinarily high birth that, in order to make his hearers comprehend how utterly incapable he was of appreciating the little social distinctions which existed in that parish he would tell them that he could no more appreciate such distinctions than, standing upon a mountain, he could judge of the heights, as compared with each other, of the mole-hills lying scattered around its base. Where, therefore, was he to a find a woman, and moreover a woman willing to take charge of a gouty old gentleman like himself, whose birth in comparison with his own was not plebeian? In the matter of his wife's little peculiarities of pronunciation, &c., he would just remind any satirists that their tenements were constructed of a material certainly not iron, and that to such persons the throwing of stones was a proverbially dangerous practice. He announced in conclusion that all these things were of small importance, as he and his wife had resolved to lead a life of almost absolute seclusion, devoting themselves entirely to her improvement, to the duties of their station, and to the preparation of their souls for heaven.Another long extract is given from a sermon preached at Llanymawddy. The original is said to be in the British Museum, and the copy made by Dr. Griffith of Merthyn. The sermon is headed "A funeral sermon for a dead body," and is a wonderful example of "English as she is spoke" by the Welshman. It begins with these words: "Good people of Llanymawddy. My dearly beloved brethren, we are met together here to-day for a great preachment for a dead body, the body of good Squire Thomas, the squire of our parish. We did all love him, though he has scolded us shocking, &c."The preacher went on to say that he knew the words of his text in three languages, "The Latin tongue which is the language of all learned people: I do know them in the English language—it is the language of all genteel people. I do know them in the Welsh language of course—it is the language of all vulgar people."Much of the sermon is given up to a description of Adam and Eve, the latter being described as "the beautifullest of all women, but she was a very peculiar woman. She wanted to know everything she ought not to know." The Garden of Eden is thus portrayed: "The garden of Squire Thomas was nothing to it: it would take twenty thousand of Squire Thomas' to make such a garden."It is altogether a most wonderful discourse, and it would be well worth anyone's while to hunt it up in the British Museum, if the original is really to be found there.Then there is an extract from a sermon preached by an Irish bishop, which, says Bishop Walsham How, "I heard described by one of his clergy who heard it." The point of the sermon was an illustration of the joy over the one repentant sinner by the joy in a household over the baby which had been ill and had recovered. The curious part of the story lies in the fact that at every mention of the baby the preacher dandled his hands up and down as if he were holding it. The constant repetition of this must have been trying to the gravity.A few more "sermon-notes" may find a place here just as they were jotted down by the Bishop.

A number of stories relating to sermons have already been given, but a large part of the Bishop's notebook which relates to them has not yet been touched. There are some sermons given almostin extenso, and to these it is only possible to refer briefly. The longest report of a sermon is of one that was printed after it had been delivered by an old gentleman who married his cook and thought that it was necessary to justify his action to his parishioners. He described his bride as "one of plebeian birth and the superintendent of my establishment." He based his explanation on the fact that he himself was of such extraordinarily high birth that, in order to make his hearers comprehend how utterly incapable he was of appreciating the little social distinctions which existed in that parish he would tell them that he could no more appreciate such distinctions than, standing upon a mountain, he could judge of the heights, as compared with each other, of the mole-hills lying scattered around its base. Where, therefore, was he to a find a woman, and moreover a woman willing to take charge of a gouty old gentleman like himself, whose birth in comparison with his own was not plebeian? In the matter of his wife's little peculiarities of pronunciation, &c., he would just remind any satirists that their tenements were constructed of a material certainly not iron, and that to such persons the throwing of stones was a proverbially dangerous practice. He announced in conclusion that all these things were of small importance, as he and his wife had resolved to lead a life of almost absolute seclusion, devoting themselves entirely to her improvement, to the duties of their station, and to the preparation of their souls for heaven.

Another long extract is given from a sermon preached at Llanymawddy. The original is said to be in the British Museum, and the copy made by Dr. Griffith of Merthyn. The sermon is headed "A funeral sermon for a dead body," and is a wonderful example of "English as she is spoke" by the Welshman. It begins with these words: "Good people of Llanymawddy. My dearly beloved brethren, we are met together here to-day for a great preachment for a dead body, the body of good Squire Thomas, the squire of our parish. We did all love him, though he has scolded us shocking, &c."

The preacher went on to say that he knew the words of his text in three languages, "The Latin tongue which is the language of all learned people: I do know them in the English language—it is the language of all genteel people. I do know them in the Welsh language of course—it is the language of all vulgar people."

Much of the sermon is given up to a description of Adam and Eve, the latter being described as "the beautifullest of all women, but she was a very peculiar woman. She wanted to know everything she ought not to know." The Garden of Eden is thus portrayed: "The garden of Squire Thomas was nothing to it: it would take twenty thousand of Squire Thomas' to make such a garden."

It is altogether a most wonderful discourse, and it would be well worth anyone's while to hunt it up in the British Museum, if the original is really to be found there.

Then there is an extract from a sermon preached by an Irish bishop, which, says Bishop Walsham How, "I heard described by one of his clergy who heard it." The point of the sermon was an illustration of the joy over the one repentant sinner by the joy in a household over the baby which had been ill and had recovered. The curious part of the story lies in the fact that at every mention of the baby the preacher dandled his hands up and down as if he were holding it. The constant repetition of this must have been trying to the gravity.

A few more "sermon-notes" may find a place here just as they were jotted down by the Bishop.

A certain preacher, after describing all sorts of evil, exclaimed, "And all this in the so-called nineteenth century!"

A working man refused to go to church because (he said) the parson could tell him nothing in a sermon he didn't know. However, a friend persuaded him to go, and asked him afterwards if he had learnt nothing. "Well, yes," he said, "I did learn one thing. I learnt as Sodom and Gomorrha was two places. I always thought they was man and wife."

It is said that Dean Goulbourn while preaching on the intermixture of evil with good in the Church, said, "Remember, there was a Ham in the Ark"—then, thinking it might sound odd, corrected himself and added, "I mean a human Ham."

As might be expected, a very large number of stories in the Bishop's note-book concern Episcopal dignitaries either past or present. It is unfortunate that some of the very best are told of bishops who are still alive, and, although there is not an ill-natured word on any single page, yet it might not be advisable to publish these anecdotes, lest this little volume should be open to the charge of want of respect for those in high places.How often a story is told of, say Bishop Wilberforce, and at its conclusion the narrator says, "Or perhaps it was Bishop Magee," entirely forgetting the wide difference between these witty prelates, and spoiling the story by his uncertainty. It will be noticed that some of the better-known stories which are given below have Bishop Walsham How's own evidence of their origin, and it is possible that in some cases their publication may be useful as clearing up all doubts as to their source. For instance, he knew well both Bishop Wilberforce and Bishop Magee, and for the stories about them he frequently vouches.

How often a story is told of, say Bishop Wilberforce, and at its conclusion the narrator says, "Or perhaps it was Bishop Magee," entirely forgetting the wide difference between these witty prelates, and spoiling the story by his uncertainty. It will be noticed that some of the better-known stories which are given below have Bishop Walsham How's own evidence of their origin, and it is possible that in some cases their publication may be useful as clearing up all doubts as to their source. For instance, he knew well both Bishop Wilberforce and Bishop Magee, and for the stories about them he frequently vouches.

The Bishop of Winchester (Wilberforce) is renowned for his wit. I was one day dining in his company. He was to the right of the lady of the house, Canon G—— to her left, and I next to him. Canon G—— was talking to the bishop across the lady of the house about a very old man, and observed that he was losing his faculties very fast, his senses of taste and smell being so completely gone that some naughty boys in his house, knowing that he always had a lightly boiled egg for breakfast, blew it one morning and filled it with castor oil, and he never found out. The bishop looked up with one of his merry twinkles and simply said, "Never?"

On another occasion at a dinner party a young man was talking rather foolishly about Darwin and his books, speaking very contemptuously of them, and he said to the bishop, "My Lord, have you read Darwin's last book on the Descent of Man?" "Yes, I have," said the bishop; whereupon the young man continued, "What nonsense it is talking of our being descended from apes! Besides, I can't see the use of such stuff. I can't see what difference it would make to me if my grandfather was an ape." "No," the bishop replied, "I don't see that it would; but it must have made an amazing difference to your grandmother!" The young man had no more to say. I could quote many more witty sayings of the bishop, but they would give no idea of the real humour with which they were spoken, so much depending on the bishop's inimitable manner and tone of voice.

Bishop Wilberforce, in one of his instructions upon preaching, gave descriptions of what werenotsermons, before proceeding to describe whatwasa sermon. One of his sentences was this: "A few texts floating here and there in the feeble waste of your own turbid fancies—that'snot a sermon."

The same bishop, after preaching a very eloquent charity sermon, was going from the pulpit to the altar when an enthusiastic lady, too much moved to wait for the offertory plate, put a half-sovereign into his hand, saying, "Imustgive my mite," to which he replied, looking at the coin, "I thought there were two of them."

A great friend of Bishop Wilberforce told me of a little bit of cleverness of his which is worth recording. He was telling a story of an Italian Marchesa, in which she made a clever repartee in French. The bishop was known not to be very perfect in French, and my informant said he awaited his enunciation of the French remark with some anxiety. But he need not have been anxious, for the bishop discounted any shortcomings by saying, "Then the Marchesa said—(you know her French was not very perfect)——" and so made the quotation.

Of Archbishop Magee the following stories are recorded by the Bishop:

I was with Bishop Magee in a railway carriage once, and he had theChurch Timesand theRockon his knees. Before the train started a newspaper boy held up a copy ofChurch Bellsto him, and he looked up and said, "What's that? Oh,Church Bells. That's moderate, isn't it? No, thank you; I like to read the extremes and do the moderation for myself."

The same bishop at a dinner party had some soup spilt over his coat by a clumsy servant, and exclaimed, "Is there any layman who would kindly express my feelings in suitable language?"

Bishop Magee at a City dinner was sitting next to some one who had to propose the health of Alderman Pigeon, of whom he knew very little. He asked the bishop what he could say about him: "Oh," was the reply, "say you hope he will some day find himself in a mayor's nest."

Here is a story which is frequently quoted, and is inserted here for the sake of the guarantee of authenticity:

The Bishop of Peterborough (Magee), being plagued to go and open all sorts of things—churches, schools, bazaars, &c.—exclaimed one day, "I do believe very soon there will not be a young curate in the diocese who has bought a new umbrella, who will not apply to the bishop to come and open it." (Said to the Bishop of Leicester, who told me.)

Bishop Magee, walking one day with the Bishop of Hereford by the Wye, said to him, "If you will give me your river I will give you my see."

The Bishop of Peterborough, being pressed to give a certain man a living, said, "If it rained livings I would offer Mr. —— (after a pause) an umbrella." (This was said by the bishop in the Athenæum to a friend of mine, who told me.)

A lady who was a great admirer of a certain preacher took Bishop Magee with her to hear him, and asked him afterwards what he thought of the sermon. "It was very long," the bishop said. "Yes," said the lady, "but there was a saint in the pulpit." "And a martyr in the pew," rejoined the bishop.

Lastly, there is a touching little story of his self-estimation:

The Bishop of Peterborough (Magee), speaking of Bishop Harold Browne, said he owed him a grudge, "for he's got all my sweetness of disposition as well as his own."

The remaining stories about bishops fall under two heads—first, those which are told definitely of some particular bishop; secondly, those which are told of "a bishop," and to which too much credit need not necessarily be given.Under the first heading come the following:

Under the first heading come the following:

A certain bishop [the name is given] on his marriage determined to go abroad, and he and his bride spent the first night at Folkestone, meaning to cross next day to Boulogne. There was a great crowd on the platform in the morning, and the bishop asked his wife to wait in a certain spot while he went and saw to the luggage. He made some mistake and could not find her, and, supposing she had gone on board, went to look for her, when the vessel started and he was carried off to Boulogne. His wife had to return ignominiously to the hotel, where she received great commiseration from the landlady. The lady was quite sure some accident had happened to her husband, and a messenger was sent to see, and when he returned the landlady came in with a very grave face, and said, "I am sorry to say, ma'am, there's beennoaccident. But he didn't look like a gentleman to do such a thing." Of course he returned by the next steamer.

Bishop Selwyn of Lichfield was once asked how he came to give his theological college men such an ugly hood—black and yellow like a wasp. "Oh," he said, "I wanted to distinguish them from St. Bees' men."

It was said of Bishop Christopher Wordsworth of Lincoln that one half of him was in heaven and the other half in the seventeenth century.

When Dr. Moberly, Bishop of Salisbury, was old and infirm, he went with a friend to visit Old Sarum, and, as he was toiling up with the help of his friend, the latter remarked, "It's hard work getting up Old Sarum," to which the bishop replied, "It's harder work getting old Sarum up!"

A certain suffragan bishop was mobbed one day in a low part of London by costers, who told him they couldn't have him wear such a hat and dress. He told them he was a poor orphan with neither father nor mother to look after him and see to his clothes; so they let him go, saying, "We can't chaff you, governor."

A witty bishop of the present day, being pressed to go to many parishes for Confirmation, said that the final clause of the Baptismal Service wanted altering, and should be worded, "Ye are to take care that the bishop be brought to this child to confirm him," &c.

When Bishop Stanley first went to Norwich he went up the tower of the Cathedral, and, hearing some jackdaws twittering in a hole in the wall, and being very fond of birds, he put his hand in and drew out three young jackdaws, which he took down in his pocket and put in the garden. The next morning he could not find them, and, while looking round the garden, heard, just outside, some boys making a noise. One was crying, "Who stole Jim Crow's cadges?" (This is the local name for jackdaws.) So he ran out and caught the boys, and found out the culprit, whom he had up before the magistrates, and was going to have punished, when the boy's father asked if he might ask a question, and, leave being given, asked, "Can you tell me, sir, who the Cathedral belongs to?" "To the dean," was the answer. "Then," said the man, "who stole the dean's cadges?" This ended the matter, and the boy was dismissed.

Bishop Short (of St. Asaph) was much annoyed by his clergy seeking promotion. One day he visited a certain parish with Archdeacon Wickham, where the clergyman, as he knew, thought he ought to be promoted to a better living. This clergyman pointed to his house and school, which he had rebuilt, and said, "I think, my Lord, I have done pretty well in this parish in building the parsonage and school." "Yes," said the bishop, "indeed you have, and may you long live to enjoy the sight of your labours."

When preparations were being made for the funeral of a former bishop of Lichfield, a newly made archdeacon, who had held preferment in the Black Country, was giving directions to the secretary in the cathedral. The senior verger was standing by with some others. The archdeacon said to the secretary, "You had better send post cards to the prebendaries stating the exact hour," whereupon the verger turned to a gentleman standing by and said, "Post cards to prebendaries! Well, if them's his Black Country manners the sooner he goes back there the better!"

Bishop Pepys (of Worcester), who was a stout old man, was walking near Hartlebury one day when the omnibus for Worcester passed, and the driver was beating the horses most unmercifully. The bishop called out to him that if he went on in that way he would have him up. The man told him to hold his noise or he would give him the same. The bishop followed the omnibus into the village and found it standing at the inn door, so he called out the landlady and asked the name of the driver. She said she did not know as he was a stranger, the regular driver being ill. So the bishop walked on, and entered the drive up to the castle. Meantime the landlady went to the driver and asked him what he had been doing, as the bishop had been asking his name. "What," he said, "was that the bishop? Why, I said I would lay into him next! Which way did he go?" So off he ran, whip in hand, to beg the bishop's pardon. In a short time the bishop heard steps following, looked round, saw the driver running after him, and, remembering the man's threat, took to his heels and ran as hard as he could towards the house. At last to his relief he heard the man panting and puffing behind him cry out, "Oh, my Lord! I hope you'll forgive me, my Lord!" So he pulled up and recovered his breath and his dignity as best he could.

When the Act of Uniformity Amendment Act (Shortened Services Act) was passed, a very short service was held in Westminster Abbey at 7.45A.M.to last only fifteen minutes, partly for the sake of the masters at the school. Lord Hatherly always attended this service, but, although perhaps the busiest man in England, did not like the abbreviations. The new lectionary had lately come into use, and Lord Hatherly told the Bishop of Lichfield (Selwyn) as they came out of the Abbey one morning that he had discovered the true merits of the new lectionary. He said that, the lessons beginning so often in the middle of a chapter, he found that it took the reader so long to find his place that he (Lord H.) had time to finish the Psalms (of which only a portion was used) to himself. [In connection with the above story it may be noted that Bishop Walsham How was at one time examining chaplain to Bishop Selwyn, and may probably have been told it by him.]

I happened to be in London just at the time when the Diocese of St. Alban's was created, and when Bishop Claughton, then Bishop of Rochester, had his choice between Rochester and St. Alban's, but had not decided which to be. I went to dine with Canon Erskine Clarke and met there old Mr. Philip Cazenove, who took me in his carriage to a reception at Bishop Woodford's. Mr. Cazenove knew both his Bible and his Horace thoroughly. Almost the first person we met at the reception was Bishop Claughton, and Mr. Cazenove shook him by the hand saying, "How do you do, my Lord, sive tu mavis Rochester vocari sive St. Alban's." The bishop, a First in Classics, was delighted. [It may be noted that Bishop Walsham How had been curate to Bishop Claughton at Kidderminster, and a close friend all his life.]

Miss Jacobson told me that her father, the Bishop of Chester, was once talking with a foreign ecclesiastic who had a great admiration for Dr. Pusey, whom he spoke of asce cher Pussy.

A gushing young lady was visiting Bishop Philpotts at Torquay, and, standing at a window at Bishop's Court, she exclaimed, "How beautiful! It's just like Switzerland!" "Yes," said the bishop, "just like Switzerland, except that here there are no mountains, and there no sea."

The Bishop of Bangor (Campbell) told me that when a former dean was quite in his dotage he had got it into his head that the bishop was dead. So he went and called upon him. The old dean was very courteous, asking after his health and his daughter's, seeming to have quite forgotten his delusion, when suddenly he seemed struck with the thought that he was losing an opportunity and exclaimed, "Oh, by the way, you are sure to be able to tell me who your successor is."

The late Bishop Hills one Monday morning was standing talking to Mr. Pearson, the Vicar of Darlington, when a Mr. Maughan (pronounced Morn) came up and handed the bishop some sovereigns, saying, "There, my Lord, is our yesterday's collection for your fund." At once Mr. Pearson bowed and said, "Hail, smiling morn, that tips the hills with gold!"

A former bishop of Nottingham was a large, fine man with a good deal of dignity of manner. He one night found a burglar in his house, seized him, threw him down, and, having managed to ring the bell, sat upon him till help came. While so doing he asked the man if he knew who was sitting upon him. The burglar said "No." "I am the Bishop of Nottingham," said the bishop, whereupon (as the bishop told it) the burglar used an expression not complimentary to bishops.

Bishop Temple of London is a very powerful man, and when he first preached in Spitalfields Church some of the policemen came to hear him. The rector, Mr. Billing, afterwards asked one of them what he thought of the new bishop. "Well, sir," said the man, "I think it would take two of us to run him in."

A former bishop of Exeter in old days was noted for saying severe and sarcastic things in the blandest tones. Once when sitting with a friend in an arbour in his garden he saw a party of strangers coolly walking round his garden. He mentioned to his friend that he was frequently annoyed by these unwarrantable intrusions, saying he would speak very sharply to these people when they came past. As they reached the place the bishop to their great dismay stepped out and confronted them. They were profuse in their apologies, saying they knew his kindness and hoped they were not intruding, "Oh, no," said his Lordship, "pray make it your own: I will only ask one little favour: I should be greatly obliged if you would not go through the house to-day, as a lady is seriously ill there."

Apropos of this story it is worth recording that when Bishop Walsham How moved into the new house which was built for him at Wakefield a footpath which ran straight through the middle of the garden had to be diverted. The legal time for closing the old footpath had not arrived when the bishop first went to live in the house, and he was much beset by inquisitive people wandering about the whole place. There is a flower border round the house, edged with a raised stone edging. This stonework was kept thoroughly worn and dirty opposite to each sitting-room window, owing to it being used by the unobtrusive Yorkshireman as a standing place from which he could look into the rooms. The edging was not more than a few feet from the windows, so the nuisance became very great.

A bishop of Sodor and Man travelling on the continent found himself entered in the book of a French hotel asl'évèque du siphon et de l'homme.

A story about suffragan bishops. Archbishop Tait's coachman, Wyatt, was driving a gentleman one day when the latter asked about the horses, the coachman saying, "We had a hard time of it some years ago knocking about to Confirmations and Consecrations all over the country, but since we've taken Mr. Parry into the business we've done better." (Mr. Parry was the suffragan bishop of Dover.)

The Bishop of Bedford (Billing) when rector of Spitalfields was once visiting a pickpocket who had been very ill, and on whom he thought he had made some impression. One day Mr. Billing saw he was getting better and said he hoped he would soon be able to get to work. "Oh, yes, sir," said the man, "it's a good time of year coming on, just when one meets so many old gents coming home from dinner at night."

Finally, here are two or three stories to which no name is attached:

An ambitious young curate once complained to his bishop that he had not sufficient scope for his energies, and would like a larger sphere of work. The bishop quietly remarked, "Would a hemisphere do?"

A bishop once stayed at a house where they put out for him a set of silver-mounted brushes. When he left, the brushes disappeared, and the master of the house waited some days thinking he should receive them back, but, not doing so, he wrote and inquired if they had got packed up by mistake with the bishop's things. He received a telegram next day saying, "Poor but honest; look in table-drawer."

A young lady sitting by a bishop-suffragan who was also an archdeacon, asked him if it was true that he was an archdeacon as well as a bishop, and when he said, "Yes," she said, "Is not that what they call pleurisy?"

A certain bishop of the old school had a well-known and invariable Confirmation charge, which began, "My dear young friends, we have been engaged in a very interesting, and (as I hold it to be) a perfectly unobjectionable ceremony."

A certain clergyman about to be married is said to have written to his bishop to ask if he could marry himself, as he wished the wedding to be very quiet, and did not want to trouble any other clergyman. The bishop is said to have replied that he could not give him permission to marry himself, but he thought he might allow him to bury himself if he wished and felt able.

These are not very numerous, and occupy a comparatively small portion of the note-book. Some of them have already appeared in the "Life of Bishop Walsham How."

I once visited the Bishop of Bath and Wells, and was going on afterwards for a week's fishing in Dorsetshire. It so happened that my portmanteau, in which were my dress-clothes, was locked, but a carpet-bag containing all my fishing things was not locked. When I went up to dress for dinner at the Palace I found that the butler had put out all my fishing clothes with wading stockings and wading boots for me to dress in for dinner.

I received the following letter during the time that I was Bishop of Wakefield:

May it please your Lordship,To inform me, my Lord, wether I have a legal right to a grave, or not, supposing my granfather of my mother's side, my Lordship, and the said granfather had no son, and my mother was the eldest daughter, and I am my mother's eldest child and only son, my Lordship, who would become in possession, of the said grave, my Lordship, supposing my father, loeses my mother, my Lordship, has he a legal right to bury my mother, in the said grave, if it is not left, in the aforesaid,—granfather's Will, my Lordship, hasn't the aforesaid granfather granson the Legal Right of the said Grave, my Lordship, has a Son-in-law, a Legal Right before a Granson, to the said Grave, my Lordship, has my sister a Legal Right, to have my Father, buryed in the said Grave, my Lordship, without the concent of her Brother, my Lordship, is that Grave invested with Vicar's Right's, so that no one can interfear with the said Grave, my Lordship, the said Grave has a Head Stone to it and there was a certain amount of Fee's to be paid, before, the said Vicar allows the said Stone to be put over the Grave, my Lordship, would not that Grave devolve and become Freehold Property, my Lordship, may it please your Grace to send me a replyfrom yours truly----This letter is perfect sense, and was "translated" by the Bishop's legal secretary. Entire repunctuation will be found a great assistance to any one whose curiosity leads them to attempt to gather the meaning.

May it please your Lordship,

To inform me, my Lord, wether I have a legal right to a grave, or not, supposing my granfather of my mother's side, my Lordship, and the said granfather had no son, and my mother was the eldest daughter, and I am my mother's eldest child and only son, my Lordship, who would become in possession, of the said grave, my Lordship, supposing my father, loeses my mother, my Lordship, has he a legal right to bury my mother, in the said grave, if it is not left, in the aforesaid,—granfather's Will, my Lordship, hasn't the aforesaid granfather granson the Legal Right of the said Grave, my Lordship, has a Son-in-law, a Legal Right before a Granson, to the said Grave, my Lordship, has my sister a Legal Right, to have my Father, buryed in the said Grave, my Lordship, without the concent of her Brother, my Lordship, is that Grave invested with Vicar's Right's, so that no one can interfear with the said Grave, my Lordship, the said Grave has a Head Stone to it and there was a certain amount of Fee's to be paid, before, the said Vicar allows the said Stone to be put over the Grave, my Lordship, would not that Grave devolve and become Freehold Property, my Lordship, may it please your Grace to send me a reply

from yours truly

----

This letter is perfect sense, and was "translated" by the Bishop's legal secretary. Entire repunctuation will be found a great assistance to any one whose curiosity leads them to attempt to gather the meaning.

I have had a complaint from a layman to say that his rector in a sermon recently preached explained the repetition of the Lord's Prayer in the Church service by saying as follows: "The prayer occurs three times in the morning service; one is for those who get to church in good time, the second one is for the late, the third one is for the very late." My correspondent did not think this profitable teaching.

A working man in East London being shown some photographs came to one of the Bishop of Bedford (myself), and the clergyman who was showing the photographs said, "That is the Bishop of Bedford, he is a total abstainer you know." The man paused a moment and then said, "Ah, there's reformed in all classes, no doubt."

A little girl at Eastbourne was at a church where I was preaching, and in a whisper in the middle of the sermon begged her mother to let her have a pair of sleeves like the bishop's.

An old woman, whom I confirmed lately in a Yorkshire parish, said to the clergyman's wife at the end of the service, "A turned sick three times, but a banged thro'."

I sent a curate to look at a church I wanted him to take charge of, and he found a choirboy in the church who told him the Bishop had been there the Sunday before. "And what did you think of him?" said the curate. The boy replied, "A thought he'd a been a bigger mon."

I have received a letter from a man complaining that, having been recommended to study "Daniel on the Book of Common Prayer," he had read the book of Daniel all through, and could find no mention of the Prayer-book in it.

Our forefathers seem to have had occasion for a curious instrument called a scratchback, which consisted of a small ivory hand screwed on to a long light handle. One of these is preserved as a curiosity at a country house in this diocese. My domestic chaplain, when he first called there, finding himself alone in the drawing-room, took up the instrument, and never having enjoyed the experience proceeded to put it down his back. At that moment the lady of the house entered, and my chaplain hastily withdrawing the machine found the handle had separated from the hand, which was left behind. He had to apologise, and ask permission to retire that he might recover the missing hand.

In common with most people whose names are well known, Bishop Walsham How received many letters from lunatics. He also met with a few and has recorded one or two of his experiences. One of these dates from somewhat early days, as will be seen from the reference to Dr. Christopher Wordsworth. It runs as follows:

Once when I was staying at St. John's Wood I took an early omnibus to Westminster, and as it was fine I got up outside and had for a companion a very gentlemanly looking man of military appearance. He soon began to talk about prophecy and the revelation, showing an intimate acquaintance with the Bible, and at last he asked me if I did not think the time had arrived for the Messiah to be again revealed in the flesh. I of course deprecated all attempts to fix the date of the Second Advent, but he persisted in his attempts to prove that the Messiah would again be incarnate. I saw he was full of wild notions, but I was rather startled when he asked me if I could name any one on earth who seemed to me to answer to all the requirements I should look for in the Messiah, and when I said, "Certainly not," he startled me still more by saying, "Now I should be disposed to say Dr. Christopher Wordsworth" (then Dean of Westminster) "answered most nearly, if it were not for his extraordinary hallucination with regard to the millenium." Of course by this time I saw the man was mad. However, I asked him if he could name any one more perfectly answering to his expectation. He then asked me if I understood the meaning of the Frogs in the book of Revelation, and, on my answering in the negative, he said. "I ask myself what can you predicate of frogs? Only two things, they croak and they jump. So when I hear any one clear his throat, suddenly putting his hand up to his mouth, I say to myself, 'That is the sign of the frogs. The time is come'." He then said, "You will allow, I presume, that the Messiah must appear from a mountain?" To which I of course assented, as I did to everything else now. "And that mountain must bear a name equivalent to Armageddon?" "Yes." "Do you know what Armageddon means?" "No." "It is a name of the devil." "Oh!" "Well, such a mountain exists." "Where?" "In the county of Tipperary, and at the foot of that mountain I was born." He then went on with a long rhapsody, saying, "Yes, I am the Messiah, though men won't believe it. It's a most curious fact that, while the interests of humanity centre in me, each man believes that they centre in himself. Yes, I am the scape-goat. You know that goat was sent into the wilderness by the priest. Ah! that event happened on" (here he mentioned very rapidly some date which I forget). "I was the goat: moral wilderness, you know—commission in lunacy. My brother was the priest—sent me into the wilderness, &c. &c." He was now talking very rapidly and excitedly, and I was glad our journey came to an end.

The other incident recorded in the note-book occurred more recently, when on the Monday before Ash Wednesday the Bishop had been preaching in a London church, and a young man came to the vestry after the service to speak to him. The Bishop having asked him how he could help him, the young man laid one hand on the Bishop's knee, looked him earnestly in the face, and said in a loud impressive whisper, "To-morrow's pancake day, and the next day's salt-fish!"

Few people remember dreams to the same extent as Bishop Walsham How. It was a very usual thing at breakfast for him to tell some absurd dream that he had had, the remembrance of which often amused him so much as to greatly hinder its recital. In his note-book he has recorded two, one of his own, and one of Bishop Jackson's (of London).

A Dream of Red Tape.—A clergyman is often rather beset with forms to fill up. Probably in consequence of this I dreamt one night that I was walking through a street with a lady, and, it having been raining, there were many puddles. I stopped and said I had got some new forms in my pocket which would be most useful. I then pulled out a large roll of forms, printed as follows: "Madam, allow me to have the honour of assisting you to——over this——." There was a line below for a signature. I explained that you had only to fill up the first space with "step" or "jump," and the second with "puddle" or "pool," according to size, sign your name at the bottom and the thing was done.

This is a comparatively recent entry in the note-book, but the dream occurred many years ago. Those who remember the Bishop telling it in old days will not have forgotten that he used to say that he dreamt it after spending a long day signing his name at the Oswestry Savings' Bank of which he was a trustee.Bishop Jackson's dream was as follows:

Bishop Jackson's dream was as follows:

The Bishop of London, at the time of one of the great gatherings of Sunday school children in St. Paul's Cathedral, dreamt that he was there, and heard them singing a hymn, one verse of which was as follows:

To our Churchwardens we will tellThe wonders of this day,And eke to them will take the billOf what they have to pay.

A Yorkshire clergyman the other day, visiting a poor man who had just lost his little boy, endeavoured to console him. The poor man burst into tears, and in the midst of his sobs exclaimed: "If 'twarna agin t' law a should ha' liked to have t' little beggar stoofed."

Back to Index Next