ad a mind to. But com', sir, 'tis a mystery:"

Moral theology would sometimes take a more skeptical turn. A certain Mr.
Edwardes--a most amusing man--used to describe a call which he paid one
Sunday afternoon to a farmer near Buckfastleigh, whom he found reading
his Bible. Mr. Edwardes congratulated him on the appropriate nature of
his studies. The farmer pushed the book aside, and, pointing to the open
pages, which were those containing the account of the fall of Jericho,
said: "Do 'ee believe that, sir? Well--I don't." Mr. Edwardes, with
becoming piety, observed that we were bound to believe whatever the
Scriptures told us. "Well," the farmer continued, "when I was a boy they
used to bake here in the town oven, and whenever the oven was heated,
they sounded a sheep's horn. Some of the boys Sundays would get hold of
that horn, just for the fun of the thing, and blaw it for all it was
worth. If that there story was true, there wouldn't be a house in
Buckfastleigh standing."

Independent, if not skeptical, thought was represented even by one of
the members of Archdeacon Froude's own domestic establishment--a house
carpenter, who was a kind of uncanonical prophet. He would see in the
meadows visions of light and fire like Ezekiel's, and convert his
commonest actions into means of edification. On one occasion, when he
was constructing a bedroom cupboard, a daughter of the house remarked,
as she paused to watch him, "Well, John, that cupboard is big enough."
"It," said the prophet, reflectively, "is immense, but yet confined. I
know of something which is immense, but not confined." On being asked
what this was he answered, "The love of God."

Yet another story told by Mr. Antony Froude illustrates rural mentality
in relation to contemporary politics. Mr. Froude was the tenant of a
well-known house in Devonshire, and had come to be on very friendly
terms with Mr. Emmot, his landlord's agent, a typical and true Devonian.
One day Mr. Emmot came to him in a condition of some perplexity. He had
been asked an important question, and was anxious to know if the answer
he had given to it was satisfactory. It appeared that a cottager who had
a bit of land of his own had been saying to him, "Look here, Mr. Emmot:
can you tell us rightly what the difference be between a Conservative
and a Radical?" "Well, Mr. Froude," said Mr. Emmot, "I didn't rightly
knaw the philosophy of the thing, so I just said to 'un this: 'You knaw
me; well, I