seems to me that he belongs to
a type which is perhaps becoming more common, and the fact makes me
somewhat anxious about the future of the Church of England, because it
is a type that does not seem to me to correspond to the needs of the
day at all. He was, I believe, the son of a solicitor in a small
country town; he was educated at a local grammar-school, and went up to
a small Cambridge College; here he took a pass-degree, and then went
into a Theological College, of a rather advanced High-Church type.
Having received a so-called classical education, he had no particular
intellectual interests. He was not an athlete; he worked just enough to
secure a pass-degree, and spent his time at Cambridge in mild
sociability. He takes no interest in politics, books, art, games, or
even agriculture. Just when his mind began to expand a little he went
off to the Theological College, where he was indoctrinated with high
ecclesiastical ideas, and formed a great idea of the supreme importance
of his vocation. He had no impulse to examine the foundations of his
faith, but he meekly assimilated a large number of doctrinal and
traditional propositions, such as the Apostolic succession, the visible
corporate Church, the sacrificial theory of the Eucharist, priestly
absolution, and so forth. He is a believer in systematic confession,
but is careful to say that this was not inculcated upon him, but only
indicated, and that his belief in it is based on practical experience.
He also imbibed a great love of liturgical and ceremonial usage. He was
for a short time a country curate, and married a clergyman's daughter.
His College gave him the living which he now holds, which is fairly
endowed; and having some small means of his own, he lives comfortably.
I will add that he is a thoroughly kindly man, and very conscientious
in the discharge of what he conceives to be his duty. He has a great
many services on Sunday, somewhat sparsely attended. He reads matins
and vespers every day in his church, and gives an address on saints'
days. But he seems to have no idea what his parishioners are doing or
thinking about, and no particular desire to know. He is assiduous in
visiting, in holding classes, in teaching; he has no sense of humour
whatever; and the system of religion which he administers is so
perfectly obvious and unquestioned a thing to him, that it never occurs
to him to wonder if other people are not built on different lines. I
have often,