the world by ungraceful boldness than by
untimely fear."
London, November 15th, 1882.
RELIGION AND PROGRESS.
(November, 1882.)
The Archbishop of York is peculiarly qualified to speak on religion
and progress. His form of thanksgiving to the God of Battles for our
"victory" in Egypt marks him as a man of extraordinary intellect and
character, such as common people may admire without hoping to emulate;
while his position, in Archbishop Tait's necessitated absence from the
scene, makes him the active head of the English Church. Let us listen to
the great man.
Archbishop Thomson recently addressed "a working-men's meeting" in the
Drill Hall, Sheffield. It was densely crowded by six or seven thousand
people, and this fact was cited by the Archbishop as a proof that the
working classes of England have not yet lost interest in the Christian
faith. But we should very much like to know how it was ascertained
that all, or even the major portion, of the vast audience were
working-men. It is easy enough to give any meeting a name. We often hear
of a Conservative Working-men's banquet, with tickets at something like
a guinea each, a duke at the top of the table and a row' of lords
down each side. And our experience leads us to believe that nearly all
religious meetings of "working-men" are attended chiefly by the lower
middle classes who go regularly to church or chapel every Sunday of
their lives.
Even, however, if the whole six or seven thousand were working-men, the
fact would prove little; for Sheffield contains a population of three
hundred thousand, and it was not difficult for the clergy who thronged
the platform to get up a big "ticket" meeting, at which a popular
Archbishop was the principal speaker, and the eloquence was all to be
had for nothing.
The Archbishop's lecture, or sermon, or whatever it was, contained
nothing new, nor was any old idea presented in a new light. It was
simply a summary of the vulgar declamations against the "carnal mind"
with which we are all so familiar. Progress, said his Grace, was of two
kinds, intellectual and moral. Of the former sort we had plenty, but
of the latter not so much. He repudiated the notion that moral progress
would naturally keep pace with intellectual progress, and he denied that
righteousness could ever prevail without "some sanction from above."
This was the sum and substance of his discourse, and we have no
doubt that our readers have heard t
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