LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. 
 
 Gl FT OF 
 
 Class' 
 
r 
 
 A 
 
 SUMMBR 
 OUTING 
 
 By 
 
 FRANCIS ALLEN HORTON 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 Being Some Account of the Experiences of the 
 
 Rev. Francis A. Horton as a Delegate to 
 
 the Pan-Presbyterian Council. 
 
 BY THE 
 
 REV. FRANCIS A. HORTON 
 
 Pastor of the First Presbyterian Church, of Oakland, Gal. 
 
 OAKLAND, CAL: 
 
 TRIBUNE PUBLISHING COMPANY, 413, 415 AND 417 EIGHTH STREET. 
 1889. 
 
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 Hi 
 
 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Friends, who may dip into these letters here and there, 
 or who may read them page by page, you will spare them 
 your more severe tests when you recall the fact that they were 
 written on the wing, and that since our return the cares of a heavy 
 church have stood in the way of any recast, beyond a stray word 
 or sentence or incident to make our thought clear or to correct 
 errors in the first print. We had no idea but that the birth and 
 burial of each letter would occur in the same issue of The Tribune. 
 Still it is very grateful to us to find that the child born for a day 
 is desired for a longer life. This wish could not well have been 
 met but for the enterprise of the proprietors of The Tribune, who 
 kindly undertake it at their own expense, solely to gratify their many 
 friends and patrons who have expressed the wish both to them and 
 to us. 
 
 If our fireside chat may yield a pleasant hour or two now and 
 then, if it may inspire hard working men to take^pity on themselves 
 before friends need to pity their poor widows, if it may broaden 
 any one's idea of living, if it may bring any back home, made over 
 in brain and brawn, set back five or ten years towards youth in point 
 of health and vigor, we shall be very happy, and in the hope that 
 some such issues may come from this venture, 
 
 I remain, sincerely, 
 
 FRANCIS A. HORTON. 
 
 Oakland, January, 1889. 
 
 1 58906 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 LETTER I. 
 WYOMING, en route East, May 3d, 1888. 
 
 Oakland is home to wife and me, and no mistake. " 'Tis home 
 where'er the heart is," whether among glistening peaks or on 
 blistering sands. How much to be envied are they whose hearts 
 are set upon our beautiful city on the bay unequaled, and who find 
 therein their home. The many tender words spoken and written to 
 us in the past few days as well as previously, the hearty send off, 
 blending with memories of five years of hard work crowned with 
 a fair measure of success, fill our minds as the wheels are ever 
 rolling us away, away. The glories.of nature revealed in Oakland, 
 the beauties of the town, the sentiments of loving hearts, all unite 
 in one presence and impression. Fact is, wife and I are downright 
 homesick to-night and would give a handsome sum if the round 
 of duty and recreation were traversed and we were this near to 
 home again. After all, what is there in life but love ? Love is the 
 constraining power, the inspiring genius. Love that reaches upward 
 and impels to pureness and nobility, love that reaches into the home 
 and directs labors and sacrifices for others' comfort, love that goes 
 out to all and purifies society for the moral health of all. 
 
 " What a world this might be 
 If men were true and kind." 
 
 Now that the harness is really off, reaction sets in. Headache 
 prevails, accompanied by general lassitude, revealing a condition 
 of weariness that was not recognized while the lash and command 
 of duty urged us on. Here is one of the dangers of our climate. 
 There are no days that freeze out the worker, none that burn him 
 out. All days are favorable to business, and the year runs away 
 with no excuse for any sound man not to be at his office, counter, 
 or shop. The average active Californian of fifty years has probably 
 done as much hard, unintermitted work as an Eastern man of the 
 same class would have done at the age of sixty. We have more 
 bald headed men to the thousand than any other community, 
 probably. What is to be the effect of all this on posterity, is a ques- 
 
6 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 tion in heredity. Like trees like men, in the effect of climatic 
 influence upon stamina. We produce no very hard woods. The 
 ailanthus, eucalyptus, soft maple and soft oak are our product. 
 The hickory, the gnarled white oak, do not abound. Close obser- 
 vers find that we are not raising a generation of hickory men and 
 women. The cold and heat of Eastern States, the rougher con- 
 ditions of life, are developing there a hardier race of men and 
 women. We have as yet many of those who have been compacted 
 amid the conditions named and anew influx is constantly pouring in- 
 to our population. For this reason we do not see so clearly the effect 
 of our climate upon vigor and endurance. But in these unquestion- 
 able facts we find a further hint of the need of frequent rest and 
 change. At least twice a year a hard working business man should 
 sleep and eat and breathe in another climate for as many days or as 
 few as he can snatch from a busy life, a whole week at least. 
 
 Are you good at conundrums? Well, here is an original pro- 
 duction. Why is this bush covered desert like the municipal coun- 
 cil of well, say New York, for instance, as well as for safety ? Give 
 it up ? Well, so do I. Perhaps there is no resemblance. But as I 
 have raised your expectations, I will say that the idea came into my 
 head as I observed what a retreat it is for bitter sage hens. Bad as 
 that is for a conundrum, it is still better than a pun Joe got off just 
 now. Joe is a San Francisco drummer in the section opposite, an 
 agreeable young man and a good traveling companion. Wife 
 named one of the two horned toads that she added to her stock of 
 pets just below here after him when he told her that he was born 
 with horns on, but his mother sandpapered them off. Both Joe and 
 the toad seem well pleased with the arrangement. Looking out at 
 the window just now, he (Joe, not the toad), saw large flocks of 
 sheep feeding on the almost perpendicular faces of the hills, hang- 
 ing on by their toes, when he exclaimed, " What a country for hung 
 mutton!" 
 
 What connection subsists between piety and clothes? The query 
 arises as I look out of my window and study an ecclesiastic, a 
 bishop from Japan on his way out to England to attend some con- 
 vention, possibly the great Lambeth Convocation. He wears a 
 soft, black felt hat, a flowing undercoat wrapped about him, and 
 secured at the waist by a cord twice encircling and ending in large 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 7 
 
 tassels, cut high with standing collar, an outside coat of same cut 
 secured at the neck by a single button, and flowing freely on the 
 breeze, trowsers ending in the tightest of leggings with buttons down 
 the outside and secured by a leather strap under the instep. The 
 whole rig, except his standing collar, is of the most somber and 
 lusterless black. Again we ask, what connection is there between 
 the tailor's shears and the conversion of the heathen? What degree 
 of impressiveness in preaching the laws of God belong to one suit 
 of clothes rather than to another? How much supplementary aid 
 can the draper and tailor furnish to the theological seminary ? Is 
 there any sense in any man's making an unmitigated guy of himself 
 ostensibly for the sake of Christ ? Jesus did not so, nor did any of 
 his apostles. Why should we ? Certain proprieties all expect, and 
 sensible men bow to them, but ultraisms excite ridicule and deserve 
 all they get. Quite the opposite is the case of those who think that 
 the Master is dishonored by any use of ornament or of dress beyond 
 the very plainest. A flower on a lady's hat or a ring in her ear or 
 on her finger is evidence to such minds of an unmodified state of 
 heart, quite deplorable in a Christian. I have as little sympathy 
 with this notion as with the other. Jesus probably dressed like any 
 other carpenter's son, ornamentation included. We do not read 
 that he instituted any dress reform. John the Baptist was out of 
 the prevailing fashion, and a note is made of the fact. The whole 
 truth, probably is, that where there is the adorning of a meek and 
 quiet spirit the person is well dressed in the sight of God. After 
 this their sanctified common sense must rule. 
 
 Some of the meekest spirits in the world have dressed beautifully, 
 having ample means to do so, and desiring to please their friends. 
 It makes no beautiful woman more pious to dress her like a fright, 
 nor is she necessarily yielding to temptation, to vanity, when she 
 improves her talent of beauty for the brightening up of this workaday 
 world. I often wonder whether this proclamation of alliance 
 between religion and poverty, between religion and voluntary 
 plainness and homeliness, remanding to the devil so much that is 
 beautiful and helpful and cheerful, so many of the good things of 
 life for the sake of some spook of fear, is not an asceticism that is 
 contrary to the spirit of Christ, and chargeable with creating a per- 
 verted notion of his true church on earth. Pure and true religion 
 is one of the most sensible things in the world. It is loving and 
 
8 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 serving God with a sincere desire to please him. Did God wish 
 this earth to be somber, then why did he create beautiful colors 
 and beautiful flowers ? Did he want men to exclude the voice of 
 joy and gladness, then why the merry song of bird; why the joyful- 
 ness of everything purest and most like himself? No, no, friends, 
 let us have done with all this. Make the earth beautiful, make it 
 gladsome. Conscience will work as well when addressed by the 
 power of a beautiful piety as when by one bowed down like a bul- 
 rush, and weeping like the ancient prophet. But I may not think 
 as all do about this any more than about other matters, but I do 
 think and speak as I think. 
 
 Crossing this continent is like visiting Niagara. It grows on one 
 at each visit. More stupendous seems the undertaking that has 
 made California what she is, and will yet make her one of the fore- 
 most States in the Union. I am very well content that they who 
 overcame the obstacles and conquered mountain and desert for 
 future thousands shall be greatly enriched. The smallest conceiv- 
 able fraction of the wealth that they have made possible to the 
 masses would make them richer still. Yet when one looks at the 
 vastness of the worjt it is plainly evident that not man nor company 
 built it, but the masses, the government, between whom and the 
 constructors there should be a fair settlement of accounts. But do 
 not think that I am riding on a free pass and am showing gratitude 
 by these writings. Passes are issued to clergymen as well as to 
 others, and to their wives, to my certain knowledge. But to the 
 great mass the Interstate Commerce law is a convenient and effectual 
 barrier. Yet how it vanishes when politics are to the front! Then 
 a hint to the conductor written in pencil on a slip of brown paper, 
 as I noted recently, is sufficient. Nor do I complain. A pass is 
 an equivalent for services rendered or bid for. It always raises a 
 question. The only fair thing to do is to treat all alike, and if 
 favors are to be shown to any let it be to those on the Pacific coast 
 who are building up the trade of the roads. Generally, however, 
 they are sported by parties outside of this range, indicating the cor- 
 rupt side of railroad influence in government circles. 
 
 But I have rambled on far enough for this time. Amid sunshine, 
 hail, and snow we are now dashing, soon to revisit old scenes and 
 old friends, amid whom and which I shall not forget my transconti- 
 nental loved ones and home. FRANCIS A. HORTON. 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 LETTER II. 
 
 DENVER, MAY yth, 1888. 
 
 For once in my life I am able to look down upon all my good 
 friends in Oakland. It is not my nature to be high minded, but on 
 the contrary, to borrow the language of a character who afforded me 
 a fund of amusement in earlier days, "I am .a very humbly man." 
 But sometimes we cannot help getting up in the world. So here we 
 are in Denver, Col., more than a mile higher up in the air than the 
 top of the higher steeple of my church. And it is charming up here. 
 The air is soft and smooth and pure, the lungs taking in great quan- 
 tities of it with pleasure. At once a sound lunged person realizes 
 what hope of continuance is here for the person of weak lungs. Yet 
 there are limits. If the lung tissue is unimpaired all is well. But 
 if disease has taken hold upon it this climate aggravates the case. 
 But in many instances persons v\ho have sufferred from hemorrhage 
 merely, have never had a return of the trouble after coming here to 
 live. Yonder are the high peaks of the Rockies, eternally snow 
 capped, acting as a refrigerator, sending to-day to us. a cool breath 
 full of vigor. Overhead the sun shines through long beautiful 
 hours in one word, it is as delightful a day as one ever finds any- 
 where. Of course, it takes more than one day to make a season, but 
 judging from the sample we enjoyed I do not wonder at the remark 
 of Mr. Tabor to me, (Mr. Tabor who built the Grand Opera House, 
 and who has in other ways invested vast sums of money in the 
 city :) " We have as fine a climate for twelve months in the year as 
 can be found on earth." 
 
 Next to climate, in the make up of a city, comes the water sup- 
 ply, which in this case is abundant and of the puiest quality. Ar- 
 tesian wells reach water at sixteen feet below the surface. As the 
 boring proceeds new veins are struck, yielding at times mineral 
 waters of high value, as, for instance, at the Winsor House, where a 
 stream of water flows ceaselessly from a nine hundred foot well, 
 which waters are said to be very beneficial in all cases of kidney 
 troubles. The main dependence, of course, is upon the city water- 
 works, which secure their supply in other ways. The water rates do 
 not differ materially from those of the Contra Costa Company. 
 Charges, however, are made out on a different plan, a certain monthly 
 
10 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 rental being assessed for household purposes, reaching throughout 
 the twelve months, and an additional charge being made per month 
 for irrigation purposes extending throughout the season of irrigation. 
 Drainage, which is the next consideration, is here arranged for by 
 nature, so that the system is well nigh perfect. The fall toward the 
 streams in every direction is very considerable. In the item of 
 building material, nature certainly has set her affection upon Denver. 
 First, are the hills of brick clay which yield large supplies of good 
 quality. Just now the prices are very stiff, good quality burnt brick 
 selling at $9 per thousand, pressed brick being far more costly. A 
 new residence was shown me, the pressed brick in which cost $32 
 per thousand. Then the marble yards are well stocked with good 
 quality. Then the beautiful white and red sandstone is very 
 abundant. But best of all to mv mind is the lava stone. It has 
 several peculiarities. It is a light weight stone, weighing some 
 twenty pounds less to the cubic foot than the sandstone. It is also 
 soft and easily wrought into shape for use. It has the quality, 
 however, of hardening with age, so that each year the structure 
 composed of it grows more secure. Then it has those beautiful 
 tints coming from injection of mineral substances while in molten 
 state. Some parts are as gray as the white sandstone, some as pink 
 as the red sandstone, with many intermediate tints. With these 
 facilities at hand a solid city is the outcome. Curbstones are stones 
 in fact, sidewalks are made of sawn slaos of smooth stone, houses are 
 of solid material. Combinations most pleasing are effected. Thus 
 we see brick houses trimmed with pressed brick, white sandstone 
 trimmed with red sandstone, and vice versa, lava in combination 
 with red sandstone, and, perhaps, finished about the entrances with 
 polished granite. The charming effect of all this multiplied on 
 every side can be easily imagined. 
 
 In the building up of Denver it is further to be considered that 
 the State of Colorado is in the mere infancy of its development. Its 
 mineral resources are very great. Coal in abundance is found, but 
 as yet of a poor quality, none having been found that will coke. 
 Silver, gold, copper, iron, Spiegel iron in limited quantity, are here. 
 Dr. Maynard of Cheyenne told me that he, with seven others, had 
 laid claim under the Placer law of the State to a vein of kaolin 
 several miles in length and some fourteen feet in breadth and depth, 
 which was pure decomposed feldspar, absolutely destitue of iron or 
 
^ OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY , 
 - 
 
 A PASTORAL JOURNEY."" 11 
 
 any other mineral that would tint the pure white porcelain that could 
 be manufactured from it. I remarked to him that I remembered 
 being told at Sevres, in France, some years ago, at the celebrated 
 porcelain works, that atmosphere had much to do with their industry. 
 The idea seemed new to him, and at his request I shall make more 
 particular inquiry on this point during the next few months. The 
 vast herding interests of Colorado are gradually taking on better 
 shape. The tendency now is toward smaller herds and more care, 
 with less hardship and loss in winter. Blessed be pockets which 
 men will regard even when the lowing of starving and freezing dumb 
 creatures fall on hardened ears. I saw at the foot of one telegraph 
 pole by the wayside the dead bodies of five full grown cattle lying 
 where they fell. As all the interests of the State proceed in their 
 rapid developement, Denver will feel the impulse and rise 
 with the flood tide. This is all the more certain because 
 eastward there is no city of importance until Kansas City 
 is reached, and westward nothing to compete with it until we 
 reach Salt Lake City. Thus with natural advantages, with un- 
 limited resources, and with geographical position everything 
 is in favor of a great, strong, and beautiful city. It all depends 
 upon the people, and what they intend to do is well indicated by 
 what they have done and are doing. The business atmosphere is 
 full of ozone. The city is less than 30 years old, but has made for 
 itself already a name. Note the one fact concerning the vast union 
 depot, which is now too small and is about to be enlarged, as 
 indicating how the business men take their own city in hand and 
 govern matters amicably, as though they had something to say about 
 things. This fact is that the depot and grounds belong to the city, 
 and not to the railroads, the right to lay and use tracks being given 
 by the city to the roads. Of course it is to the interest of the city 
 to give the roads all the facilities they need for the transaction of 
 business. It is a mutual affair, but the position of the city is one of 
 much honor and safety therein. Heavy smelting works roll their 
 dense smoke upwards, and the roar and whiz of manufacture are 
 heard. Business blocks of vast size and beauty and costliness are 
 going up to add to the numbers of such already built and occupied. 
 When a city without a boom can afford to pull down good two and 
 three story structures to erect far better ones, there is some 
 foundation of prosperity under it. This is nature's boom. The 
 
12 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 Tabor Opera House surpasses in beauty and extravagance of finish 
 any similar structure in San Francisco. And it is used. The seven 
 performances of the Booth-Barrett combination yielded $29,000. 
 The new Denver Club building is the gem of the city. The dry 
 goods house of Daniels & Fisher, externally and internally, would 
 be a conspicuous object if placed on Market street. It is more like 
 my memory of Lord & Taylor's of New York tban anything seen 
 since. The hotels are roomy and well appointed. 
 
 In the matter of churches the city is wonderfully developed. St. 
 John's Cathedral is specially noticeable, cruciform, with beautiful 
 windows, soft fresco, splendid organ. Trinity Methodist, far larger, 
 not yet completed, the organ of which is intended to be the largest 
 in America, the gift of one man, a former Californian, Mr. Blake. 
 The Presbyterian churches likewise are fine structures, and, better 
 than all, the spacious buildings are filled on each Sabbath at both 
 services. 
 
 The school buildings are very fine, especially the two High school 
 buildings, which are large enough to serve as capitols for a young 
 State. The county buildings also are on the same scale. I walked 
 over the foundations of the new State Capitol, from which it is easy 
 to see what is the thought of the architect. Private residences run 
 up high into the thousands of dollars of cost in many cases. Over 
 two thousand houses were built last year, and the city is extending. 
 The Baptists have located their college out Colfax avenue as far as 
 Mountclair, and the Wolff private school has secured a location near 
 the same point. A cable line out Colfax is in the near future, and 
 prosperity is moving along that entire line. New cities are the 
 marvel of America's progress, and among them none excites more 
 wonder and admiration than Denver. F. A. HORTON. 
 
 LETTER III. 
 
 ALBANY, MAY, nth. 1888. 
 
 From the roof of the great hardware house of Horton, Gilmore, 
 Me Williams & Co., Lake street, as far as the eye can see before us 
 lies new Chicago. Without doubt the fire that swept over this vast 
 area was one of the fiercest on record. When wood goes up in 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 13 
 
 smoke and ashes like shavings, there is some fire raging. When 
 iron runs down like water there is intense heat in the conflagration. 
 When brick melts we approach the limits of our ability to measure 
 heat. But when a tongue of flame, fed by choicest combustibles 
 and driven by a blast, touches stone and it snaps and crackles like 
 powder under the match and then melts and runs down like molten 
 glass, we have the climax of combustion in the open air. I well 
 remember passing through here a few days after the worst was over, 
 while yet great mountains of anthracite coal were blazing, and 
 smoke and steam were ascending from numberless pits that once 
 were cellars; when ashes and soot and blackness were on every side; 
 when bridges were down, and over wide acres upon acres there was 
 no sign of the city that had gone up. I look over it to-day, and, 
 more marvelous than Arabian Nights, here stands without doubt, 
 in solid blocks, the best built city in the world. Every man vied 
 with his neighbor to build larger, costlier, and better than he. 
 Nothing small and mean and cheap detracts from the magnificent. 
 New York is richer and greater in many ways; Boston has more cul- 
 ture, probably. Philadelphia may have the best blood, but in vigor 
 and enterprise and business courage and undertaking Chicago leads 
 them all. 
 
 As an instance the conduct of the head of this firm under our 
 feet has always been quoted by those who were conversant with the 
 facts. He was at the time of the fire low down in the firm of 
 William Blair & Co., an old and established hor.se doing an enor- 
 mous business on the most conservative principles. Awakened at 
 the dead of night by word that fire was rapidly approaching the 
 store he hastily arose and went down town, but the sea of fire 
 encircled their house so that he could come nowhere near to it. 
 For a moment he viewed its destruction from a distance, then grasp- 
 ing the situation he turned his back upon the scene that was wiping 
 out their past and set to work to shape a future. He remem- 
 bered seeing recently a very large brick building outside the fire cir- 
 cle just approaching completion. Hunting up the owner he leased 
 it at less than $10,000 per annum. Then striking off a business 
 circular, he drummed up a printer and set him at work throwing 
 them from his press. Then far and wide over the country he tele- 
 graphed his orders for new stock, and when morning broke his 
 house was on its feet again. The old store was still a mass of red 
 
14 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 ruins, unapproachable for many squares, when the new was already 
 a success. With the opening of business hours came the carpenters 
 to put up the shelving and other necessary appurtenances. Then 
 came telegrams from all quarters announcing goods on the way, 
 and generally ending with " Hurrah for Chicago!" " Bully for you!" 
 " Go in and win!" and other such sentiment. Also now came 
 throngs of business men seeking quarters and offering almost any 
 price for accommodation. Thirty thousand dollars rent could 
 easily have been taken for the block, but the answer always came, 
 "We pay so much for the building; William Blair & Co. cannot 
 afford to make money out of such distress as now prevails ; whatever 
 space we do not require is at your disposal, and we will apportion 
 the rent agreed upon according to accommodation." Such grit and 
 good spirit rebuilt the city, and this is the living spirit in its wheels 
 of progress. By and by this grand store was enriched with an in- 
 creasing trade. Then with the revolving years Mr. Nelson fell 
 asleep, and Mr. Blair, full of years and wealth, retired, and Mr. 
 Norton came to the head. Associating with himself younger men, 
 backed by vast capital, he pushed on to greater development the 
 house he has shown himself so well qualified to command. A poor 
 boy from a country village, he has won every step of his progress by 
 the excellence of his character and by dint of the hardest knocks. 
 Such men should be a living inspiration to youth of both sexes. 
 Be honest, be capable, be gritty, and success will make you her 
 best bow. 
 
 Nevertheless, when beauty is up for remark, big, busy, bustling 
 Chicago must give place to Cleveland, the elegant. Soft with warm 
 spring showers, wooed by strong sunbeams, her continuous lawns, 
 close shaven, are at their greenest, the maples and elms are spring- 
 ing to leaf. Choice crocuses and pansies and violets, vanguard of 
 the great floral army that is marching northward, have already 
 pitched their welcome tents. Here is the home of Dr. C. S. Sprecher, 
 my esteemed predecessor in the First Presbyterian Church of Oak- 
 land. The same success that attended him there and in San Fran- 
 cisco still waits upon him here. His evening audiences are steadily 
 increasing. Here also is my monument in the Case Avenue 
 Presbyterian Church, the result of nine years of hard labor, a 
 monument that will abide even should fire destroy the building of 
 Amherst stone. No work is so lasting as that which is done for 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 15 
 
 God and humanity. No friendships can compare with those formed 
 amid such associations. And within this circle the very strongest 
 are found where the members are few and the work is great, where 
 labors and denials are daily experiences and hope delayed makes 
 the heart sick. Then the chaff is blown away by the rough gales of 
 circumstance and the winnowed grain alone abides. Heart joins to 
 heart, hand to hand, and through all sunderings of subsequent days 
 the link of golden friendship firmly holds. 
 
 What more natural, then, than that I should at once upon arrival 
 drop in on Captain Kendall of the regular army, now retired ? 
 What more in harmony with good form than that, after their first 
 breath of surprise, they should say: " Must you go right on to-mor- 
 row? Well, then, we will summon the old guard to dinner here 
 to-night." And such of them as could be reached came and a 
 happy time we had. Harness imagination to thought and draw no 
 rein over the foam flecked steeds until within the better country 
 ahead. Do you see yon animated group interested most of all in 
 themselves? They are an "old guard," whose friendships, surviv- 
 ing the wreck of fortune, the flight of time, the waste of disease, the 
 crumbling to dust of the temple of the body, are strongest now and 
 reformed for all eternity. 
 
 The growth of the anti-saloon sentiment in Ohio is wonderful. 
 And the most interesting feature of it all is that the Republican 
 party is making it an issue before the people. The wind is being 
 taken from the sails of the Prohibitionists, men who have become 
 restive to an almost insufferable degree under the inactivity of the 
 Republican party on this question are now being reassured and are re- 
 turning to their allegiance with joy. The fear of losing the German vote 
 has passed away, and, indeed, of losing anything. The sentiment of the 
 Sute is rising, so that there is more to gain than to lose by an open 
 advocacy of local option. Many small centers, where liquor has 
 dominated from time unreckoned, have been c'eaned out at the 
 ballot box, and now in a quiet way, but with great momentum, the 
 drift of thought is toward a vote by wards in the great cities. Out 
 often wards in almost any city seven would vote no liquor. This 
 would throw the selling and drinking into the other three. This 
 would so depreciate property by the comparison, by the moving 
 out of better classes, that sooner or later, in self defense, those 
 
16 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 wards would join the others. If not, then crimes would be concen- 
 trated there, police patrol would be multiplied there, criminal 
 statistics would point almost to the very doors where crime is fos- 
 tered. Why cannot our good friends of the Prohibition party join 
 us in working up to some such point ? Ohio has not done this in a 
 day. Why insist upon conquering the rebellion in the battle of 
 some one day? Ohio has a Sunday law and is using it with effect 
 in this campaign. California should have one too. Free-thinkers 
 hoot at the idea because it has a savor of religion about it. They 
 might as well hoot at conscience for the same reason. The 
 Adventists oppose it with all their vigor, and stand arrayed against 
 the party of national reform and against the progress of the anti- 
 saloon movement. The more is the pity. Others for other reasons 
 are in the same class, but two things are clear in the future sky of 
 California, viz : There will be a Sabbath law and the saloons must 
 retire. The rising sentiment will before long overflow its banks and 
 sweep in a deluge of life over our wide plains. May God speed 
 the day. 
 
 Phew ! How we are flying through New York State on the 
 limited ! If I find anything finer than this in my travels in the way 
 of railroading, I shall make a note of it. But don't set your heart 
 on the note. I think it will not come. Palace day coaches, 
 vestibuled, with dining car, stopping on an average once in eighty- 
 eight miles, and going like Tarn O'Shanter running away from the 
 witches, over a smooth road well ballasted, having four tracks, 
 insuring safety against collision, all this is a combination not easily 
 found. More than all, I have in my pocket a pair of those little 
 conveniences which the unaccustomed Britisher calls "brasses," but 
 which we invented and call checks. FRANCIS A. HORTON. 
 
 LETTER IV. 
 
 PHILMONT, N. Y., May i5th. 
 
 Dear Robin Redbreast, why does he not come to Oakland to live ? 
 the children would love him, he would be so happy skipping over 
 our lawns with his 'Dot-and-go-one" hop, worms and fruit are there 
 in satisfying abundance, why does he not come ? Yonder in the 
 old pine trees just above this house where I was born, is singing 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 17 
 
 now one of those beautiful creatures his evening hymn. Oh ! how 
 it chirps and swells and trills and rolls. I fancy that he is singing a 
 welcome horns to me ; he certainly found his keynote in my heart. 
 Doubtless he is a lineal descendant of those who have summered in 
 that tree for generations. So tame were they that they would get in 
 the way of the hoe in their eagerness to*ecure the fat earthworm. 
 Dear fellow, how you carry me back along the track of time. How 
 you cover again the fields that border the laughing Occawamuc with 
 dense and primeval forests, broken only here and there by settle- 
 ments. I see the young and handsome bride with her stalwart 
 husband coming here to find a home. Your ancestors sang bridal 
 carols for them morning and night. I see the first baby in its 
 cradle, an occasion of wonder and curiosity to the dark, savage men, 
 silent but friendly, who enter una n nounced at any hour. I see them 
 lift it in their strong arms while the mother stands by a picture of 
 smiling agony, smiling in order not to show fears or distrust, agony 
 at the spectre of a possibility that they might walk off with it. 
 While you sing the panoramic years roll on. The scene changes ; 
 the forests are no more, save in the rocky fastnesses about the great 
 falls where madly leaps the Occawamuc to a lower level a sheer 
 hundred feet. Wild scenery, full of inspiration ! One cannot help 
 singing, cannot help imagining great deeds. Its roar is like the 
 tread of hosts, its shock and tremble are like the colliding of mighty 
 forces, the soughing of the wind evermore through the trees is the 
 music of the eternal battle. The red man now has gone, the wild' 
 stream is tamed, and you, robin, who sang its days of freedom, sing 
 now its days of fettered industry, as, like a blind old Sampson at 
 his mill, it turns the multiplied wheels of manufacture. 
 
 Then came my day. As along these waters I rambled with rod 
 and line you sang for me. As through these meadows I hunted the 
 luscious strawberry, small but sweet, you with Robert of Lincoln 
 kept me company. In later years, when in this deep cave I made 
 my first study and set me down to write my earliest sermon, you were 
 my choirmaster. The murmuring waters rippling past its mouth 
 filled up the melody, and ever since in all my later efforts I think 
 I can detect the echo of your early encouragement, and the deep, 
 soothing murmur of the heart of nature, that covers all defects and 
 tones all into harmony. The panorama rolls and still you sing, and 
 now that bride of yore, our aged and beloved mother, dies, and with 
 
18 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 <our tears your plaintive expressions of grief were mingled, and your 
 song has ever since contained to me a tear. And when yesterday 
 we turned aside into the churchyard to stand awhile by mother's 
 grave, that tenderest spot on earth to manly heart, that place where 
 earth 'and heaven closest j^n, dear, dear old Rob, there we found 
 you, your lone watch ke^Rng. And well you may, for well she 
 loved you. Keep thus near the gate of heaven, Rob ; it will be 
 pleasanter to have you therein, and I think that you shall be there- 
 Does not tradition truly say that you found your red breast by 
 sympathetic contact with the bleeding side of the Man of Sorrows 
 as he bled to open heaven ? Heaven's own bird, paradise is not too 
 good for you. A seraph might do worse than pluck enough of down 
 from his soft wing to make old Rob a nest. 
 
 "Change and decay on all around I see " as I move about among 
 the scenes of my childhood. The old oaken bucket has gone, the 
 very well has gone, the garden that lay near it has gone, 
 all given up to other uses. The grand old hills that gave 
 such sport to us coasters when winter covered them with 
 snow and glaring ice are made now to bow their heads and 
 consent to easier grades. The stream that went dancing and 
 glinting along is a reservoir now, a change as from frolicsome 
 boy to sober man. The farms are village sites now, and cottages 
 supplant the waving grain. The farmers, too, are gone, save where 
 now and then one sees an aged man leaning on his staff or draws 
 nearer to hear him talk of the good old quiet times of the long ago. 
 In what I see and tell I touch the heart of many an Oaklander 
 whose experience coincides with mine or whose fear of such 
 experience delays his footsteps of return to the old home. Each 
 present place and present station are all that we may call our own. 
 No deed to property can hold it to us the very same through years. 
 Men may not rob us of it, but time and change will eat away its 
 very self so that while the semblance remains the thing itself has 
 escaped, even as the pile stands firm and sound to the eye while the 
 teredo has really carried it away. Nature buries our past and begins 
 to dig its grave as soon as we are advanced one single step, grazes 
 our heel as she strikes in her hasty spade, old grave digger that 
 she is. Would that she could bury many of our doings that 
 memory recalls as ensily as she buries our belongings. 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 19 
 
 But as though by contrast with our evanishing to set forth her own 
 perduring, we have but to lift our eye and there s'tretches away the 
 lofty range of the Catskills. From childhood we have studied them 
 and to-day there is no elevation, no depression that is not an old 
 familiar object. Deep lie the shadows on the Kaaterskill clove, while 
 sweeping nobly upwards and northward rounds the high top of 
 North mountain, on whose northern slope stands out the Catskill 
 Mountain House, now entering upon its sixty-sixth year. On its 
 southern slope stands the new Kaaterskill in full view. Rome has its 
 legends and we laugh at them, but to this day great foundations 
 stand in close connection with events as pueri'e as a suckling 
 mother wolf. Thus the celebrated house last named sprang from a 
 chicken (a spring chicken, but we forbear to pun). 
 
 One day at the Mountain House a guest ordered spring chicken 
 and was informed that he could not have it, He made a rumpus 
 nnd was told that if he wanted spring chicken he had better build 
 an hotel of his own and furnish it. He vowed that he would, and 
 he did, and the Kaaterskill is the magnificent result of that quarrel. 
 It is said that their bill of fare is never without spring chicken. Such 
 antics hot blooded men can play, even among the clouds on nature's 
 always solemn and impressive high places. But to stand on that 
 piazza of the old Mountain House and look off. Oh ! what a vision ! 
 The Hudson winding aljng for full seventy miles, the Berk- 
 shire hills to the east shutting in the scene, the Fishkill range 
 to the south, the Adirondacks to the north, and the Cat- 
 skill under our feet and rolling up high behind us, the wide 
 valley laid as on the flat surface of a map with wood and cultivated 
 field and stream and lovely home as far as tbe eye can see. And 
 now the deep thunder breaks, but it is below us, the sun is glorious 
 overhead, but from north and south up and down the valley move 
 the cloud armies, and now they approach nearer ; now the forked 
 lightning flashes across, the fierce artillery of the skies; the peal 
 follows, louder, quicker ; we hear the rain falling on the tree tops 
 below, but still over us the sun shines on, another instance of the 
 upper ten thousand in sunshine, the lower five in misery. They 
 mingle, they are too close for cannonading any longer, they blend 
 and become a sea, and fill the valley to our very feet with a luminous 
 waste of apparent waters, with surface broken into billows by the 
 passing gale. Yet from beneath those cloud waves come strange 
 
20 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 sounds of life, lowing of herds, shouts of workmen, and the like, with 
 strange weird effect as though we were gazing into some hades, 
 impenetrable to vision yet which the ear peoples with life. There to 
 the south lies the Old Man of the Mountain, flat on his back, his 
 forehead, eyebrows, sockets, nose, lips, chin, neck, all clean cut. His 
 swelling breast is a mighty ridge, his raised knee is a lofty peak, his 
 foot a noble spur of the range. From change and decay to such 
 surroundings we cheerfully turn, glad to be reminded that there are 
 some things that do not change. Thus, prophet and poet have ever 
 arisen from their tasks for and among men to reassure their souls by- 
 something steadfast. Then have they turned to the mountains, and 
 from them by an easy transition to him who laid their deep 
 foundations. To the lover of nature the mountains are an un- 
 wearying attraction. 
 
 To the farming population these mountains serve as a barometer. 
 When one arises in the morning the first thing to do is to look at 
 them. By their nearness or remoteness the state of the atmosphere 
 is judged and the character of the day prognosticated. If clouds 
 hang on them the position of the clouds is significant, and a note is 
 made whether they form a "nightcap" for the peaks or a "belt" 
 for the middle. If the clouds are moving, the direction they take 
 shows whether rain or dry may be expected. Thus for long years 
 they are man's companion, and one cannot wonder at the sense of 
 homesickness experienced by such when removed from them. As 
 one expressed it who returned from the more level west, -'I couldn't 
 stand it; it seemed as though the gable end was kicked out of all 
 creation." When to love for them one adds that of the noble 
 Hudson, the imperial Hudson, that flows along their base, an idea 
 can be formed of the strength of the spell ihat binds all residents to 
 their homes in these localities. Moving amid these old familiar 
 scenes, I feel the awaking love, and strike a compromise with my 
 heart by saying, every place has its compensating advantages ; 
 nature has left none entirely out in the cold. 
 
 FRANCIS A. HORTON. 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 21 
 
 LETTER V. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA, May 25. 
 
 At last we are in our Presbyterian Jerusalem. This is hallowed 
 soil to our church. Here was created our republic, with which our 
 Presbyterian fathers had much to do, as was only natural, lor Pres- 
 byterianism is essentially republicanism, as Anglicanism is essen- 
 tially monarchical and Romanism is essentially despotic, in tendency. 
 Here was formed the first presbytery in the United States, here was 
 formed the first synod, and here was formed the first assembly, 
 which convened in 1788, just one hundred years ago. Here also, 
 in the year 1870, was celebrated the grand reunion of the old and 
 new schools, which took place in the very church wherein the open- 
 ing exercises of this Centennial Assembly occured on the i7th inst. 
 There are to-day within the limits of this city Presbyterian churches 
 of all kinds to the number of 104. Every fifth person met npon the 
 streets, man, woman and child, is a Presbyterian, and none of them 
 look very blue, either. This is the place where Presbyterians never 
 do look blue. Our denomination alone has here 106 Sabbath schools, 
 containing 42,562 members. The churches are substantial, the 
 newer ones quite beautiful. But no attempt is made to keep pace 
 with the wondrous beauty and costliness of many of the public and 
 corporation buildings. In this respect Philadelphia stands quite 
 alone. Solidity, massiveness, costliness, and beauty combine in 
 many public buildings to a rare degree. 
 
 The churches are well attended at the morning service, and in 
 some instances where less exhaustion of energy is occasioned by 
 religious work on the part of the people, or where more energy is put 
 into the service on the part of the pastor, both services are full. 
 Among all of our local men here, I am informed by a competent 
 critic, John Hemphill, formerly of San Francisco, is the most pop- 
 ular and best " all round" preacher, and has the largest audiences. 
 This will be a good word to his many friends on the Pacific coast 
 where he lived for thirteen years. 
 
 The assembly is in full blast. From Puget sound to Mexico, from 
 Boston to North Carolina, and from all regions between commission- 
 ers are in attendance. From far off lands they have come. The 
 Supreme Court of the United States, the Gubernational Chair of 
 Pennsylvania, the Territorial Commission of Washington Territory, 
 
22 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 the National Senate, the judicial bench of Minnesota contribute to 
 its membership. Editors, professors, lawyers, doctors, preachers, 
 bankers, men from all the branches of industry which Presbyterians 
 engage are here to the number of nearly 600. Hospitality has been 
 extended to 1500 in immediate connection with the assembly. It is 
 a very strong body. Some of the old men are here, some of the 
 younger men are here, but the mass is composed of the burden 
 bearers, the destiny shapers of the church. Men long separated 
 meet again and refresh their memories of the days of old lang syne. 
 The lobbies present animated scenes. Very many ladies are in 
 attendance in the interests of missions or simply in company with 
 their husbands to share in the celebrations. 
 
 The auspicious day opened without a cloud. The air was pleas- 
 ant and cool, the sun filtered through the opening leaves of the 
 trees and fell in golden patches upon the walks. The body met at 
 Horticultural Hall and, augmented to a force of 1500 by visitors, 
 quietly marched by twos up Brook street to Washington square to 
 the First church. It was a typical Presbyterian procession. There 
 was no brass band with brazen clamors of pride and ostentation ; 
 there were no flaunting banners thrown to the breeze; there was noth- 
 ing to indicate who or what the body of men were, nor why they 
 were here, nor why the city was so moved at their presence. They 
 needed nothing of the sort in these surroundings. Their name, 
 their character, their history, were household words. Before that 
 vast assemblage Ex-moderator Dr. Smith arose and in fitting 
 words announced his text as that upon which Dr. Witherspoon 
 had preached at the first assembly one hundred years ago, 
 viz: i Cor. iii, "Neither is he that planteth anything nor he 
 that watereth, but God that giveth the increase." Of course 
 plowing, watering, and increasing were lines along which the 
 noble discourse ran the history of the past century in our 
 church life and progress. Grand old man, his sermon was 
 one that any younger man might envy, his mellifluous delivery rings 
 in pleasing cadences in my ear still. I could not help saying, "What 
 need is there to speak of a dead line at fifty or sixty years for the 
 preacher when men of such advanced age have still such power." 
 There is no dead-line except when a man ceases to think and study. 
 This may come at thirty, or may never come, as the man himself 
 shall select. 
 
JVERS1TY 
 
 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 23 
 
 Kansas City gives to us the Moderator in the person o'f Dr. 
 Thompson. He was chosen in part because he represents the "Far 
 West." It is very amusing, and now and then not a little provoking, 
 to see how little the average man east of the Rocky mountains 
 knows of the far West. The patronizing manner, not to say the 
 half pitying manner, in which we are referred to it is sometimes 
 hard to endure. And it does no good to explain, for their minds 
 are made up about it, and any description of affairs with another 
 coloring is discredited. I took occasion to speak up for California 
 in the matter of education after some good New York man had 
 appealed to the body to come to our rescue in the matter of educa- 
 tion lest we should grow up in illiteracy, and at table in the hotel a 
 couple of hours later I had the pleasure of having one of my best 
 friends, who sat with his back to me and was unaware of my pres- 
 ence, say, " Horton must have made that a little rose colored." 
 This was offset by a confession by Dr. Worden, who heard me speak 
 of California affairs at Minneapolis two years ago. He had the 
 same opinion of my statements, but since that day he has visited 
 California, with his estimable wife, and now makes a voluntary con- 
 fession to me that I did not tell one half of the case. So little by 
 little, Eastern eyes are opening. 
 
 The interest in the question of fraternal relations with the Pres- 
 byterian Church South was the culminating point. It was looked ahead 
 to for weeks; ever since the publication of the official correspondence 
 between the committees of the two assemblies, which for urbanity, 
 loftiness, and diplomacy is not often equaled. Then the com- 
 mittees of arrangements provided for an all day meeting of the two 
 bodies in two places in this city, to be presided over and addressed 
 by Northern and Southern men, turn and turn about, on great vital 
 questions of church life and progress. Before this day came an 
 invitation was extended to both assemblies from Mr. and Mrs. 
 Wistar Morris of Overbrook to meet at their residence and be 
 received. This was accepted. Upon this came another invitation 
 to attend a joint reception at the Academy of Fine Arts. The 
 first w r as set for Wednesday afternoon, the 23d inst., the second for 
 the evening of the same day, the following day being the great day 
 of joint celebration before mentioned. These arrangements were 
 carried out to the very letter. We met and fraternized and learned 
 to respect each other. The Northern Church wore blue silk badges, 
 
24 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 small, chaste, and suitably inscribed with gilt letters with name of 
 our body. The Southern brethren wore white badges with a trans- 
 verse diagonal bar of blue. Wherever in the vast throng of more 
 than 5000 people the badged men met there was no waiting for a 
 farther introduction, but palm met palm and brotherhood was estab- 
 lished on the spot. Amid the highest works of art in the many 
 rooms we moved about, with flowers on every side, the band dis- 
 coursing sweet music, and the spirit of true brotherhood over all. 
 Every one voted it a great success. After a good night's rest, the 
 morning broke on the day of days. 
 
 The rain came down copiously, but no one heeded it. The feast 
 was spread and every one chose his place. We studied the pro- 
 gramme and chose Horticultural Hall. Here a son of old Dr. 
 Robert J. Breckinbridge, a member of Congress from Kentucky, led 
 off in an address upon "Calvinism and Liberty." The spirit of his 
 father seemed to rest upon him. Large, graceful, with snow white 
 hair and full beard, he held that immense throng spell-bound under 
 one of the finest specimens of sustained oratory to which I have 
 ever listened. Bursts and rolls of applause cheered him on from 
 period to period, and when he had finished it rose to an ova- 
 tion. He came forward and gracefully acknowledged the compli- 
 ment on behalf of the truth he had uttered. Let no man ever say, 
 while such men and such themes meet, that oratory is a lost art. 
 Impassioned utterances of lofty and far reaching truth thrill and 
 electrify to-day as at any period of the world's history. Then came 
 on Howard Crosby of New York, who was introduced as being 
 "every inch a scholar and every inch a man," who, amid great 
 demonstrations of admiration, opened the subject of " Presbyterian- 
 ism and Biblical Scholarship." He went headlong after the men 
 who bow down to the continent and regard "German indorsement 
 as a title to intellectual nobility." Near him sat some of those who 
 are given to evolving wonderful things from their own " inner con- 
 sciousness,** who are victims of "intellectual inebriety," who discuss 
 the scriptures " as having been on the ground when they were 
 given," into whose notions he poured hot shot for the space of forty 
 minutes. It was a rare treat, and between him and Mr. Breckin- 
 ridge the honors were easy and the audience in raptures 
 
 In the afternoon Dr. John Hall opened up the subject of "City 
 Evangelization" in his clear and forcible manner. He was followed 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 25 
 
 by Dr. Hoge of Richmond, Va., upon a kindred theme. Tall, lank, 
 angular, with high cheekbones, a pinched face, and sharp nasal 
 tones, he has yet the true oratorical fire burning within him, and 
 held the close attention of the house for three quarters of an hour. 
 A very pretty little passage occurred between him and Dr. Hall, 
 showing how keenly alive is the body to anything that smacks of 
 union. Dr. Hall explained how he had tried to induce Mr. Jessup 
 to take his place, and how he resisted his pastor. "So," said he, 
 " when two great bodies come together it is necessary that each give 
 way a little." The assembly caught it, and made the welkin ring. 
 "Be not so hasty in your generalization," said Dr. Hall, "I was only 
 speaking of personal matters." And then the applause was louder. 
 When Dr. Hoge came to speak he referred to the two churches, 
 remarking: "They are not one, nor yet are two, but both look 
 alike as sisters do." Then he added, "they not for that reason 
 marry each other, they may prefer to marry some one else." The 
 crowd caught the idea again and when the noise had subsided some- 
 what he sharply added, " Be not too hasty in your generalization. 
 I was merely speaking of personal matters." 
 
 Time would fail to speak the great and gifted men who took part 
 in the discussion. Dr. Cuyler's paper on foreign missions was lau- 
 ded to the skies. The church in Christ for a lost world out of Christ 
 was one of his epigrams that will resound down along Presbyterian 
 halls for many days to come. The next day the debate on organic 
 union ran high, the final conclusion being to enlarge the committee, 
 accept its report, adopt substantially its provisions, and pass them 
 along another year. The result was entirely unanimous and was 
 announced amid long continued applause. No one doubts that the 
 events of the past few days have mightily strengthened the bonds of 
 love between the churches north and south. God's own good day is 
 coming on, we would not hasten it unduly, then when it comes it 
 will bring in the desire of all hearts without a root of bitterness 
 anywhere. 
 
 The immense Academy of Music is packed every time it is opened 
 for a popular meeting in connection with any of the great benevo- 
 lent works of our church. Home missions and Foreign missions 
 take the palm and the very best speakers attainable address the 
 throngs. Take it for all in all we do not expect to see so glorious 
 
26 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 an assembly again. Its inspiration will lift the entire church in its 
 work for many years to come. 
 
 Now we are up and away. The good ship Alaska sails on Tues- 
 day for Queenstown, and by the time this reaches you some one 
 may be addressing old ocean in the language of an admiring 
 sufferer : 
 
 O, deep, deep, mighty deep, 
 I give thee what I cannot keep. 
 Alas, let us hope for belter things. 
 
 FRANCIS A. HORTON. 
 
 LETTER VI. 
 
 PROMENADE DECK, UNION LINE S. S. ALASKA, \ 
 
 June 4, 1888. ; 
 
 Once upon a time Dr. Talmage crossed the Atlantic when the 
 sea was so smooth and charming that he wrote an article in its praise 
 entitled 'The Smile of the Sea." I greatly fancy that the sea laughed 
 in its sleeve while he was doing it, for when he came home it treated 
 him so meanly that he says he has ever since been mad to think 
 that he wrote that letter. Remembrance of that fact warns me to 
 be cautious. The present temptation, however, is to laudatory ob- 
 servations; we shall only say, therefore, that if the sea is so minded it 
 can be most agreeable, and thus only have we found it on this voyage. 
 Never was a sail down the Hudson on the palatial steamer Drew or 
 on the St. John more quite than have been portions of this passage. 
 It is the poetry of motion, and barring the fog on the Banks and 
 the deafening whistle at two minutes intervals, there is not the least 
 thing to occasion inconvenience or to mar the pleasure. Some peo. 
 pie are in bed, of course. The Alaska is a remarkably steady ship. 
 In the sea that now is on she does not list enough to deflect a quoit 
 in the game of shuffle board. This is a point that ladies should note, 
 for ordinarily they fear the rolling motion more than the pitching. 
 
 In every other respect also she is a charming vessel. Her appoint- 
 ments are complete, her saloon is large, her table well spread, her ser- 
 vice cheerful and obliging, her decks are broad, with long ranges for 
 the necessary daily constitutional, her officers inspire confidence by 
 their close attention to duty, and last, but not least, she does not 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 27 
 
 loiter on her course. On the contrary she is a spinner, making about 
 four hundred miles per day. This of course is not the swiftest time 
 made by any steamer, but it is well up towards the head of the list 
 and will satisfy all reasonable demands. We he.irtily commend her 
 to all our friends who comtemplate the ocean passage. 
 
 What a world by itself a passenger's list contains. He who may wish 
 to prosecute character studies will here find an ample field. There, 
 for example, yonder is Senator Stanford of California with his svife. 
 He is quite dignified, courteous, and kind. Nothing about his per- 
 son or manner indicates that he is a distinguished member of the 
 United States Senate. His name is not on the printed list of pas- 
 sengers. There is no asumption of rights above any other person and 
 no self seclusion. He sits on deek in a chair, like the rest of us, eats 
 at the regular table, and orders from the same bill of fare, takes a 
 walk with his wife in the jolly crowd like any other man of the people. 
 Yet his face shows to a close student of physiognomy that he was 
 not intended to do things in a small way, and the whole set of his 
 features shows a determination as pronounced as his modesty. 
 
 Behind me at table is a hilarious group, composed of three 
 Roman Catholic priests and several men with whom they seem to 
 be boon companions. This morning I was taking an early walk on 
 deck before breakfast with one of these gentlemen when Father 
 Kelley approached and the following amusing conversation took 
 place. 
 
 "The top o' the morning to ye, Father." 
 
 "The top o' the morning to yourself." 
 
 " And did ye hear burglars in the night?" 
 
 "No, and were there burglars?" 
 
 " Indeed there were, and you ought to be happy this morning in 
 that ye saved two lives." 
 
 "Now ye surprise me ; and how did I save two lives?" 
 
 "Well, thin, this was the way of it. My room mate and myself 
 was that thirsty in the night that we were about to die. Indeed it 
 was a clear case that we should expire before the morning. We 
 liad never a drop and we knew that the bar was shut, so that our 
 case was hopeless indeed. Then a thought struck me and I said to 
 my room mate, if now, we can get around to Father Kelly's room, 
 we can surely find the medicine that will keep us alive. So we went 
 about to your room and found the door unfastened. We were the 
 
28 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 burglars, Father, and we searched not long until I had my hand on 
 a neat demijohn, and I poured out a fufl glass, and took a small 
 pony myself, and gave a good one to my friend, and the remainder 
 to the Steward, who saw us, so that he would not report our doings 
 to the Captain. And now early in the morning I haste to make full 
 confession and ask your absolution." 
 
 " No sin has been committed," was the ready reply, *' and no 
 absolution is required, in this that ye did not awaken me, for I was 
 having a swate sleep and had ye disturbed me it would have been 
 an unpardonable sin, but inasmuch as ye did not awaken me, no 
 sin was committed and no forgiveness need be asked." 
 
 Father Kelly strolled away smiling down the deck and I asked, 
 " Is all this a morning joke?" 
 
 " No, indeed," was the reply, " it is all fact just as stated. My 
 business calls me to test liquors and I can say that the brandy 
 referred to was the finest which I have tasted for many a day." 
 
 Our captain is a splendid study. He has not been in the sight of 
 the passengers since we started, his chair has not been turned in the 
 saloon once thus far. We ran into fog soon after leaving Sandy 
 Hook and have been in it ever since. He has two sharp-eyed men 
 on the bow, two more on the promenade deck forward, two officers 
 and a quartermaster on the bridge, one or two in the crow's nest, 
 besides the man at the wheel. Eight or nine pairs of sharp eyes 
 peer into the fog on every side to detect the approach of danger 
 And this is well, for under his care is a valuable ship with costly 
 cargo, together with many scores of human lives. What an example 
 of watchfulness. How easy to moralize. Darkness and fog are 
 over human life ever league of our voyage, there can be no sense of 
 security, no promise of safety, no hope of making our haHen, unless 
 we multiply our lookouts on the bow, on the deck, on the foremast, 
 and on the bridge. 
 
 Many a young man is forging ahead with the breath of iceberg* 
 on his brow, with fog and darkness lying on his course, with no calm 
 eye peering into his future. If he shall come safely to a desired 
 port it will be a miracle. "Oh ! I'll come out all right, "is his watch- 
 word. Most surely do we hope so, but this is a great, deep, cruel 
 sea of life over which we sail. Young man, you had better keep a 
 lookout at your bow. 
 
 "You look bad this morning" said the big fat man with short 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 29 
 
 sack coat and ample trousers (why will fat men persist in wearing 
 such short coats) to the young, well dressed man at his side. "You 
 would look bad, too," said he, "if you had been as drunk as I was 
 last night!" I saw him this morning in the smoking saloon playing 
 poker with small stakes on the table. " Do you go abroad on bus- 
 iness?" said a man to him. " No " was the proud reply, " I don't 
 have to travel for business or follow any occupation." I could not 
 help thinking of his father and mother, whether they hid saved up 
 money with this end in view whether such an outcome of their life's 
 labor would please them. A thousand times better would it have 
 been had they turned all their money into gold and sailed out here 
 into midocean, and in the name of their son, and for his sake, have 
 thrown it as a cursed thing into the deep. There is a pitiable mis- 
 take here that is being repeated constantly. Every boy, as we say 
 in California, should be required to rustle for himself, especially 
 those who show a disposition to spend the "governor's" money. 
 Hardworking parents naturally desire to make things a little easier 
 for their children, to which end they dig and delve, they pinch and 
 save, all through life. Of the outside world they know almost 
 nothing. The culture and enlargement of ideas that travel brings 
 they deny to themselves, because they think that they cannot afford 
 it, while often at the end of life they see their mistake and say if I 
 had to do it over I should act differently. A good education and 
 sound moral and religious training are every child's due. When 
 these are secured then there should be a generous participation by 
 parents and children alike in the comforts and advantages that the 
 family purse can buy. One such person of a working and saving 
 turn, whose money has never given her the advantages it ought, 
 while her sons have used and misused the most of it, said to me 
 with mournfulness in tone, but none in word : " Frank, take the 
 best, it is all in a lifetime." And I believe the path of wisdom for 
 parents lies along a broad, generous provision for themselves, and 
 for their family each day as it rolls away, with a prudent eye to 
 oncoming age, and, perhaps, depleted income. The sweet joy of 
 using money for good purposes in charity, or for the spread of the 
 gospel, such people never taste. Sermons setting forth such needs 
 are "begging" sermons, a term dishonorable alike to speaker and 
 hearer. Money given by such is too often like throwing a joint at 
 the head of a hungry dog that makes him yelp with pain before he 
 
30 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 can get his dinner. When having denied oneself the pleasures 
 and advantages that money can secure, when having Jost the oppor- 
 tunity it affords to do good, there is added the squandering habits 
 of children tending to their destiuction the outcome of such a life 
 of toil and saving is mournful in the extreme. 
 
 A very comfortable programme for a day's round of affairs on 
 shipboard is a salt water bath at 7 A. M., hot, luke warm, or cold, as 
 one fleets, followed by a brisk walk or other active exercise until 8 
 o'clock. Then games, walking, reading, chatting, or snoozing on 
 deck in reclining chairs, taking a cup of strong beef tea about 
 11:30 o'clock, with lunch at i p. M. Then after lunch nap in true 
 navy style, followed by more careful toilet and exercise until dinner 
 at 6 P. M. More exercise, etc., until night falls then to the dining 
 saloon for music or books or writing and to bed at a right early 
 hour. This is the best lay out, but in case stress of weather pre- 
 vails then do the best you can regardless of order or ceremony. 
 The best is monotonous, to wait is unspeakable. 
 
 From the dawn of literature the sea has been prolific of symbols. 
 Its vastness strikes the mind of the beholder. Eternity is a sea, 
 limitless, fathomless, engulfing. A Sabbath school teacher in Phil- 
 adelphia toM me that she took her class of poor children to see the 
 ocean. One little girl stood and looked long, while her little breast 
 heaved, until when interrupted by the question what she thought of it, 
 she replied : " Well, mam, its the first time in my life that I ever 
 had enough of anything." Its solitariness, so lonely, so desolate, 
 so barren, so dreary, is painful to contemplate. Apart from the 
 habitations of man it lies, hiding deep secrets forever in its ojvn 
 keeping, deep answering to deep in endless conversation with itself. 
 The voyagings of men seem like intrusions into its solitudes, met 
 by tossings and tumblings or, in angrier moods, by awful shipwreck. 
 A grim, gloomy hermit is the sea, an ogre not pleasant to confront, 
 nor safe to offend. Its distress awakens wonder. Why is it so 
 troubled, why does it never rest, why does it moan so piteously, why 
 does it beat so distressfully upon the sands, why in its deeper soli- 
 tudes apart from habitations of men, does it shrink and wail and 
 burst into frantic upheavals of passion ? The heart of the wicked 
 man, his conscience, "is like the troubled sea that cannot rest, but 
 casts up mire and dirt." Its deceitfulness is proverbial. How it 
 smiles and ripples and dances and lures. Come play in my break- 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 31 
 
 ers, come sail over my billows, so freely flowing, so smoothly rolling, 
 but there is the undertow, that like a giant creature wraps its mighty 
 arms about one's limbs and drags us down to death. There is the 
 sudden squall, the outward flowing tide, the overturned boat, the 
 floating corpses. Its remorselessness is dreadful. Pity does not 
 dwell in its bosom. After all the ships it has swallowed 
 down, all the misery it has caused it is as wicked and hard- 
 ened as ever and as eager for havoc. Beautiful woman, tender 
 child, alike fail to awaken sympathy. And yet its pureness is lau- 
 ded, it has salt in itself, it ceaselessly tosses up its waters to the sun 
 that his beams may penetrate and clarify them. And being pure 
 the world is healthy. A putrid sea would give us a dead world 
 right speedily. Its wisdom too is confessed. It visits every land 
 under the sun, it speaks in every language used by human beings, 
 tell tale rivers and brooks from every deep mountain fastness are 
 pouring into its ear their gossip. Its informants come whence 
 human foot has never trodden. And from the ages it has been 
 gathering up its stores of ' knowledge. How it laughs as it looks 
 back to the beginning of the race, especially to man's first attempt 
 to navigate its waters. How the tiny shells were tossed upon its bil- 
 lows. How it can tell of the progress of invention until these white 
 winged birds of commerce began to skim its surface, until man 
 made iron to swim, and these monster steamers, sharp in prow and 
 mighty in wheel, began to people its fastnesses with human beings 
 passing and repassing along great trackless highways, trackless to all 
 eyes save the needle's. Arch polygamist, every ship launched is a 
 new wife added to his harem. Every ship lost is a wife out of favor, 
 given over to the executioner. Miser and highwayman combined, 
 his secret treasure houses are richer than those of Egypt in the days 
 of Joseph. I like him, yet I like him not, and here, with white- 
 caps breaking everywhere abou:, I write it down, in his fastness and 
 stronghold of pride and power, I like him not. I rejoice in the vis- 
 ion of Daniel that far as his eye could behold "there was no sea." 
 I thank thee, Daniel, for that touch upon the heavenly canvas. It 
 seals our kinship. 
 
 Sabbath on shipboard is perceptibly a different day from the other 
 days of the week. The necessary working of the ship of course 
 goes on, but more of quiet rests everywhere. On the Alaska at 
 10:30 A. M. the bells toll for service, and all who are thus inclined 
 
32 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 retire to the main saloon, where the captain, or in his absence the 
 purser, reads prayers. No sermon is allowed, in consequence of 
 past troubles arising from inability to please all parties. In the eve- 
 ning a praise service closes the holy day. Church going people 
 ought to remember more frequently in their prayers those who spend 
 the most of their sabbaths in these wilderness regions. 
 
 FRANCIS A. HORTON. 
 
 LETTER VII. 
 
 CHESTER, ENG., June 8, 1888. 
 
 Quaint, charming, ancient Chester, how all our first love awakens 
 again as we walk its narrow streets! Its broken gables, its tiled chim- 
 neys, its houses projecting over the sidewalk, its ancient wall, its cathe- 
 dral, its pleasing suburbs and the like, they greet us as old acquaint- 
 ances. But why are we here, we whose itinerary requires us to be 
 in a jaunting car on the mountains of Kerry, en route to the lakes 
 of Killarney? Simply because the cold gray mist of Scotland, 
 sweeping down, made it impossible for us to land at Queenstown. 
 Thus for more than an hour we lay off that rough Irish coast in the 
 darkness, and cold and rain blowing for the lighter to come off for 
 those who wished to land. But no one ventured out for us, and 
 when the purser strode into the saloon and announced that the ship 
 would steam on for Liverpool our hearts were lightened of a great 
 burden of fear, and none applauded more heartily than we disap- 
 pointed ones. We continued to Liverpool, only to find that the 
 same stubborn Scotch adversary had belated us so that we lost the 
 tide and could not cross the bar. This necessitated a sail of four- 
 teen miles in a tug with only a canvas roof over our heads to pro- 
 tect us from the "falling weather" and the rough, cold wind. As 
 one remarked, it was a truly formal English reception, very cold 
 until we become well introduced. Although our tickets read 
 " weather permitting," freeing the company from any obligation to 
 do more than land us at Liverpool, the Guion Company, be it said 
 to their lasting credit, generously offered to send all the disappointed 
 Queenstown passengers back to Cork, or on to Dublin as they pre- 
 ferred. Not being able to spare the time from our work at home to 
 double on our track to reach any place, we accepted an order for a 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 33 
 
 first-class passage to Dublin via Holyhead, and as Chester lies on 
 the line, and as we love Chester, and as we are not specially enam- 
 ored of Liverpool, what more natural than that we should stop off 
 at this point, and as we have a day or so to spare out of our south 
 of Ireland itinerary, where could we better spend the time than in 
 agreeable Chester ? So here we are, and with us seventeen more of 
 the Alaska's passengers, including all but one of the Twilight 
 Club. 
 
 Now we must tell you about the Twilight Club, for being only an 
 invited guest at several of their meetings and not a member in full 
 standing, we may be able to say more than a full Twilighter would 
 care to say about their unique organization. The first horror of a 
 sea passage centers in the stomach. That passed and this import- 
 ant member, more obedient than Banquo's ghost, that is to say, being 
 willing to stay down, the next horror centers in the brain, in inac- 
 tivity resulting in a distressing ennui. And the second works in 
 the interest of the first, for oftentimes something that engages the 
 thoughts leads one to forget the stomach tides over qualms of 
 squeamishness that would arise if thought were concentrated upon 
 present condition and prospects. Hence good sailors among the 
 passengers are most generally persistent readers. A group of bright, 
 smart folks well known to one another, formed a club whose object 
 was to fight ennui without saying so and, in general, to make the pass- 
 age agreeable. They gave up the day to hard work in writing poetry, 
 wretched or otherwise, most generally otherwise, with notable 
 exceptions, in conjuring up ghost stories, some of which would 
 make even a ghost blush, in preparing witticisms and other such 
 matters as fertile brains would naturally suggest, and at the hour of 
 twilight they met to read their productions. They had a scribe 
 whose minutes were very witty and were generally disapproved. It 
 was a feast of sparkling wit, of rippling fun, of pleasant railery, knock- 
 ing out also some truly meritorious productions in prose and verse. 
 This in the rough. We throw it out as a suggestion to intending 
 passengers. If you would be well up in the club tuck away in your 
 satchel the choicest fruits of the scissors for use. If you have any 
 doubts about the most approved method of handling this instru- 
 ment in such connection call on the city editor of The Tribune who 
 will give you full information in his most genial manner. 
 
 We crossed from Liverpool to Birkenhead, where we met with 
 3 
 
34 A PASTOKAL JOURNEY. 
 
 the usual corrections in our English. First, a bright young Congre- 
 gational clergyman asked the way to the railroad depot, and was met 
 with the reply, "I suppose it is the station you are speaking of?" 
 " Yes," he said faintly, as he began to collapse, " I suppose so." Then 
 another of the party fell into the abyss by referring to the baggage 
 car, and was instructed regarding the luggage van. Then we all 
 laughed again. Next came my turn. I had a through first-class 
 ticket to Dublin and asked whether I should be allowed to lay off 
 at Chester. I was told that I might break at Chester if I wished. 
 Then the laugh was on me. But the climax came when a culti- 
 vated lady who, with her charming daughter, has often crossed to 
 this side, and who felt perfectly able to talk baggage in America 
 and luggage in England, told us how she had become confused, 
 and asked the inspector a question concerning her " buggage." The 
 smile broadened into a ripple, the ripple into a laugh, the laugh 
 into a roar, the roar into a haw-haw, in which she took a prominent 
 part. The run down was made in company with one of those 
 genial Englishmen whom we often meet when traveling here, who 
 cannot be at too much pains to tell you every matter of interest 
 as you go along. From him we learned that the rainfall has been 
 entirely insufficient, while the fog has been excessive, so that although 
 everything to the eye is green the ground is dry as dust two inches 
 down. It has since rained and there is a better condition of things. 
 The country is looking very beautiful. We rode out to Eaton Hall, 
 the seat of the Duke of Westminster, and along the roads taken in 
 going and in returning the pasture was deep and tender, the haw- 
 thorn, white and red, in bloom, wild flowers everywhere a most 
 entrancing scene. This duke, by-the-bye, is worthy of mention. 
 His wealth is said to exceed that of any other living man. The 
 gentleman above referred to, born and reared here, stated his 
 income as probably about twenty- five pounds sterling per minute. 
 This dazed me, and after using my pencil for a few moments I got 
 so high in the millions in effort to compute his annual income that 
 I left off figuring. Others hereabouts confirm the same statement. 
 I give it for what it is worth, but I may safely say that His Grace 
 is justified in being somewhat easy in mind concerning his present 
 and prospective financial condition. His landed estate is a para- 
 dise, some six miles square, with comfortable homes for his tenantry 
 and household officers and servants. Red and fallow deer, rabbits, 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 35 
 
 pheasants, horses, cows, etc., abound. His celebrated horse, Ben- 
 dorr, cost, it is said, $90,000, but has paid for himself once or 
 twice on the turf. The fee of one shilling, charged to keep out 
 the rabble, admits to his ball, except as to the private apartments. 
 Language, time, and artistic ability fail us to tell of the variety, 
 richness, and beauty of its interior from the mosaic floors of the 
 corridors up to the exquisite wood carving of the ceilings, or of its 
 furnishings. It is like a dazzling dream of fairy land. The hall 
 was originally built two hundred and eight years ago, but has been 
 enlarged and improved from time to time by successive owners. 
 The Duke owns, also, a large portion of Chester, including the 
 Grosvenor Hall and the Grosvenor hotel, where he is now stopping 
 previous to going to London. He is liberal to the city. In many 
 ways he promotes its interests by a free use of his money, as e. g., 
 building a church at $150,000 cost, and paying out annually ^800 
 for the support of services therein. The wisdom of allowing such 
 money power to amass in the hands of one man under the pro- 
 visions of government is a grave question. It is caste and monopoly 
 combined, At least so it appears to the American mind. But let 
 us not forget that our own problem of government is not yet half 
 wrought out and be sparing of our strictures. 
 
 The work of renovating the old cathedral is progressing slowly. 
 When one looks closely to see what is being done the sense of 
 regret passes largely away. The first thought is that they are mak- 
 ing a modern building of one of the grandest of ancient structures. 
 But this is not so. The cathedral dates from the eleventh century. 
 Of course it was built by the Roman Catholics, but when Henry 
 VIII established the Church of England he quickly converted it, 
 with others, to his own ideas. As the centuries passed the interior 
 was whitewashed and the beauti ul woodwork was painted. The 
 effort now being made is to remove the whitewash and to restore 
 the anicent appearance of the stone and to paint the mason work 
 afresh. Also the woodwork has been taken down and laboriously 
 treated to remove the vandal paint, a task involving great expense. 
 Thus the effort is to make the edifice more ancient rather than 
 more" modern. Dean Howson's grave is in the court, surrounded 
 by grass and flowers. All biblical students look with respect toward 
 the mound under which he lies. To him this work of restoration 
 is mainly due. Dean Darby read morning prayers yesterday in the 
 
36 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 choir, " and a very poor reader he is, too," said the garulous old 
 verger as full of suggestion as ever. Thirteen choir boys sweetly 
 sang responses and anthems assisted by five heavier voices, one 
 basso very rich and deep. These five were " small guns " of the 
 cathedral, according to the same spiritual authority before quoted, 
 who also added, " the canons reside here only three months in the 
 year." When one leans up against one of these old columns, or 
 hides behind some projection and in the shade falling round him 
 lets the mind take in the thought of seven hundred years, and as 
 with the eyes of this old building sees, and with its ears hears, the 
 happenings of the centuries that lie between, the barbarities and 
 atrocities, the intrigues and jealousies, the superstitions and fanati- 
 cisms, the blood-red tide of war bridle deep, the fretted ceiling 
 vanishes, nave and aisles and choir and lady chapel and crypt and 
 chapters and cloisters all become one transporting chariot of 
 thought carrying him back down the troubled yet ever-improving 
 past. History arises and shakes off the dust of the schoolroom, it 
 lives and breathes, it talks to us eye to eye. The consciousness 
 of a past back of us from which we have emerged becomes dis- 
 tinct, our generation as a link in the endless chain, as inheriting 
 the past and endowing the future, our duty to make our impress 
 for good on the race as it moves down to a day when men shall 
 stand by the monuments of our hands and brains and strain their 
 ears to catch the sound of our remote times all this comes over 
 us, the particular man falls out of view, man only is seen we 
 thought we were a mountain, we find that we are only a seaside 
 grain, helping to make up the great beach of Humanity upon which 
 the ocean of time forever beats. 
 
 Hawarden House and Manor are objects of deep interest to me 
 and to every American as being the home of Gladstone. It is only 
 seven miles out of Chester, and to go to it is one of the pleasant 
 excursions from this town. It is a place full of grand inspiration. 
 The spirit of the man fills it and its visitor if he has any spiritual 
 capacity. Far different from Eaton Hall, not in the same class, it 
 is yet as much above the ordinary home of the people as we are all 
 happy to see the dear old man elevated. Not the grounds, not the 
 buildings, nothing in the trappings and housings here are great and 
 confer their titled, inherited greatness on a man who may himself 
 lack every element of greatness, but the MAN here is greatness 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 37 
 
 and bestows his title to nobility on every leaf and flower and book 
 and pet that he gathers round his home. That title no court nor 
 queen has in keeping nor can bestow, nor can royalty buy and wear 
 it themselves, save in the great court of the universe in exchange 
 for soul worth, mental, spiritual, moral worth. Here sat the great 
 man when in moments of leisure between governmental studies he 
 took our brilliant American infidel between the thumb and fore- 
 finger of his massive intellect, and in language most dignified, and 
 in reasoning most clear, rubbed his homogeneous structure into 
 heterogeneous confusion. A view of the man himself makes infidel- 
 ity look very cheap. See that massive brow, those lines of thought 
 and equipose of judgment that lie deep cut around his eyes and 
 along his forehead, those lines of determination and persistence 
 about his mouth, that spirit of repose and devoutness that covers 
 him like a robe and well fits him to read the Scriptures in the 
 Hawarden Church, of which his son is rector, as he always does 
 when at home among the people who revere him, and the very man 
 himself as a product of the Bible and of the Christian religion is 
 enough to refute all infidel cavils, whether originating on English, 
 French, or German soil and echoed in America, as the penny 
 whistle echoes the blaring trumpet or as the sea shell imitates the 
 thunders of the deep. And when he opens his lips and confesses 
 Christ and declares his personal faith in him as the foundation 
 stone of his life and character, and when we stop to think of his 
 mental qualities as he witnesses to the faith, of his research, of his 
 varied acquirements, of his knowledge of men ancient and modern, 
 his testimony makes the antics of a brilliant but infidel genius, its 
 sacrilegious caricatures, its audacious blasphemies to appear as un- 
 real, as hideous, as ghoulish as the midnight carousals of witches, 
 warlocks, and towzey-tykes on that famous night when " Kirk Allo- 
 way seemed all ableez." Noble Christian man, late may he return 
 to heaven, long may he remain on earth, the foremost citizen in the 
 free Republic of God. 
 
 In reaction there is health and pleasure. The bow must be un- 
 strung, rest must follow toil, publicity craves retirement. So this 
 great man whose life is spent among the noble loves to seek the 
 simple, quiet ways and places of the common people. We learned 
 of a " Light Cake and Muffin Shop " in town where Mr. and Mrs. 
 Gladstone sometimes go for a quiet lunch. So of course it was 
 
38 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 quite the thing for us to encourage the light cake and muffin trade. 
 After some search we found the place, and being assured by the 
 ladies in charge that they often served Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone, we 
 sat down and took a note of things. It is on Newgate street, which 
 from housewall to housewall is not more than twenty four feet wide 
 at this point. The shop is down from the street five stone steps, 
 well worn by use ; is not more than fifteen feet wide, and perhaps 
 three times as long as wide. Directly above the lowest step the 
 ceiling falls several feet and continues throughout at this height, which 
 just admits of a tall man passing under erect. To the left of the 
 steps, as one enters, stands a counter, which is covered with muffins 
 and light griddle cakes, cold and ready for sale. The high window 
 in front is supplied also with a shelf of them in view of passers-by. 
 Near by the end of the counter is a chimney furnished with an 
 iron oven, the top of which is very smooth and clean and capable 
 of holding eight cakes at a time. By its side on a three-legged 
 stool is an earthen bowl of several gallons capacity, small at the 
 base and wide at the top and well supplied with white bubbling bat- 
 ter ready for use. A bright fire within the oven indicates that we 
 may give our order as soon as we please. This done, includ- 
 ing tea and light cakes hot for two, we sit down at a small table, 
 two feet wide and eight feet long, covered with oilcloth and entirely 
 empty. On either side a long bench without a back, and on 
 either end a short one of the same country school-house pattern. 
 A japanned tray is produced and furnished with a black earthen- 
 ware teapot and the nicest and cleanest of cups and saucers, with a 
 dainty sugar-bowl filled with cubes, and a wee cream-pitcher full to 
 its little brim. Now business begins. The tea is set to draw, a 
 ladle of batter is emptied into a tin cup to measure it accurately 
 and is then poured upon the griddle. Three of these constitute 
 the size of an order. When thoroughly baked one is placed on a 
 hot plate and generously buttered, then another on the top of the 
 first, accurately adjusted and buttered, then with care the third is 
 placed on the others and buttered. Then the fragrant pile is care- 
 fully divided with a sharp knife from the center to the circum- 
 ference into three equal segments, so that we have nine pieces, 
 each a triangle with a circular rim. The whole is placed before 
 you, you pour your tea while waiting for knife and fork. The 
 cakes are growing cool, while their aroma is making you hot. You 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 39 
 
 give a gentle hint, and quickly learn that no knife nor fork is used 
 in eating the cake, the ringers being quite the thing. So you begin 
 by rolling up a segment and take a bite, and find that it works well 
 enough after all. A second installment of three, with a subsequent 
 one of two as a neat finish, proved ample for a lunch, and for all 
 these with two cups of delicious tea each, we pay down the sum of 
 one and six and go on our way rejoicing. 
 
 Dear old Matthew Henry, who wrote the best and longest lived 
 commentary on the Old Testament extant, sleeps peacefully here 
 honored by a monument. In the Cathedral sleeps Pierson, whose 
 exposition of the Apostles' Creed will survive until the general 
 demolition. In the Cathedral square lies Howson, whose joint 
 work with Conybeare on the life of St. Paul is matchless. Near 
 St. John Baptist Church are the rooms where DeQuincey wrote his 
 immortal works. Yonder is the old, old house where Keats 
 scratched his screed upon the window pane with his diamond, when 
 chagrined because the clergy refused to dine with him. Here are 
 old stone ornaments in recent years discovered where Cromwell 
 buried them when he broke the walls. They are now being used 
 in repairing it from time to time. The very soil is full of inspira- 
 tion. Here lives as patron saint the reputed wealthiest man in the 
 world. Here certainly lives, as a townsman, the greatest man of the 
 present generation, take him for all in all. And over all a halo of 
 royalty hangs, for the Prince of Wales, if I mistake not, is Duke of 
 Chester. Fain would we stay and read and think and talk \\ith 
 men whose ancestors carried on the same trade with themselves, 
 perhaps on the same spot, back, back of no one knows where. But 
 we must up and away. 
 
 FRANCIS A. HORTON. 
 
40 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 LETTER VIII. 
 
 ON THE IRISH SEA, June 13, 1888. 
 
 We are leaving Ireland, bound for Glasgow and the north country. 
 It is now 10 o'clock at night, but the long tarrying day in these 
 regions of glorious twilight is but just fading quite away. The sea 
 is peacefully rocking us as a crooning nurse quiets a tired child. 
 The new moon has appeared through broken and flying clouds. 
 We have seen it over the right shoulder, and have devoutly turned 
 our money, but it is a rain moon, and we are sorry, for thus far the 
 six weeks of our absence and journeyings have been passed in con- 
 stant company with Jupiter Pluvius. Everywhere it has rained, 
 until now we are longing for the company of earth-born mortals 
 who have not so many fields to water. But to-night everything is 
 serene and full of thought. The light plays entrancingly upon the 
 waters; the many lower lights are burning, some steadily, some 
 flashing at intervals ; the high chimneys of Belfast have dropped 
 out of sight, but yonder looms up in the twilight, silent and grim, 
 old Carrickfergus Castle of high historic renown. Settling down 
 upon the horizon to the south are two dark objects ; steamers they 
 are that lay side by side with us in port an hour ago, that sailed 
 out to sea with us, but now part to meet no more. So sailed out 
 into life a merry group that frolicked erstwhile upon the village 
 green, that picnicked merrily with the girls they chose on holidays 
 too far between, and one sails north and one sails west, and some 
 have met with storms and been dismantled, and some have gone 
 down regretted, all widely sundered on the deep sea of active duty. 
 God grant we all who sail to-day may at last tie safely up in blessed 
 ports. 
 
 Wife and I are taking a deal of comfort in the consideration that 
 is .shown on this side toward dumb creatures, particularly that most 
 serviceable and 'most abused of them all, the horse. Perhaps we 
 notice it the more as the room we occupied in an hotel at Phila- 
 delphia fronted on a street that was used by a street railway. The 
 slipping of the horses on the smooth cobbles, and the rattling of 
 their hoofs as they caught themselves, distressed us by day and 
 awakened us at night. Passing to this side the first thing we noted, 
 a point that repeats itself everywhere we go, is the change in this 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 41 
 
 respect. Large horses and smaller loads is the order. The big 
 Normandy with his great foot and his shaggy fetlock, harnessed in 
 what seems at first sight to be a waste of leather, handled carefully 
 by men who often walk beside the load, moves along briskly, 
 but with no appearance of being distressed or over urged. In Dublin 
 we saw two men with a cart moving along an asphaltum pavement 
 and with a shovel liberally sprinkling coarse sand over the smooth 
 surface. It was raining a little at the time and the street was 
 slippery. Upon inquiry we learned that it was to keep the horses 
 from falling. 
 
 Later on we saw the same thing being done by a street tramcar 
 company. In our electric country, where we think in telegraphy 
 and talk in stenography, where we turn night into day and too often 
 forget that all days are not alike, the horses suffer with the men. 
 The servant is not better than his master, and so the master insists 
 upon killing both. We have no use for the Norman, we want 
 horses that can skip. They must be small to stand the racket that 
 would knock a heavy horse to pieces. The same hurry to get 
 through with much work in a short time makes the drays longer. 
 The discrimination is against the poor horse both ways and so our 
 streets are full of pitiable sights ; but whether the over-loaded, over- 
 driven men or the horses in the same category are most to be pitied 
 it is hard to say. No one man is to blame for it. Our society is a 
 Jehu, and it drives man and beast so that nations from afar know 
 us by the dust of our wheels. Is it in the nature of things that we 
 shall ever learn wisdom in these matters ? It came over me very 
 powerfully last Saturday as we mounted that quaint car of Ireland, 
 the jaunting car, and road out into Phoenix Park about 3 o'clock. 
 This vast pleasure ground and breathing place was alive with people 
 of all classes. Here in one section tennis games prevailed, then 
 farther on cricket matches were in progress, and farther on still the 
 fleet polo ponies and their daring riders were chasing the ball up 
 and down the grounds, while everywhere over the turf ladies and 
 gentlemen were galloping at full speed, or driving along the road- 
 ways, while others were spinning on the fleet bicycle. It is safe to 
 presume that none of these cared to take Sunday for a repetition. 
 
 The same rush and jostle for money that kills our men and 
 our horses encroaches on our Sunday, and if cause and effect could 
 be traced, it might be found to be an important factor in many a 
 4 
 
42 A PASTOKAL JOURNEY. 
 
 failure and perhaps embezzlement. The impression made upon 
 any one who breathes in this restful atmosphere is well summed up 
 in the words of the philosopher at my side, who said : " I have 
 learned a lesson ; when I get home I mean to take things more 
 quietly. I see that people who do so get along quite as well as 
 others, live longer, and have a better time all the way through." It 
 is, no doubt, true that Americans are the hard workers of the world. 
 It is equally true that the national countenance is being deeply 
 seamed with lines of anxiety and eagerness and unrest. We act 
 nervously, as though we were hard after something, bound to get it, 
 but not yet in full possession, Here the appearance is rather that 
 of having obtained something, being glad over it, and of getting the 
 best out of one's obtainment. 
 
 The jaunting car, by the way, is a lineal descendant of the 
 ancient low back car. We used to sing an Irish ballad when I was 
 a boy about " Peggy in her low back car," but I never had any idea 
 what it meant. Now I find that the low back car was an ancient 
 vehicle, quite the high toned thing in its day, composed of a roller 
 in place of wheels, on which was arranged a platform with a single 
 seat. Modernized, this is the car of to-day. To the uninitiated it 
 is a ride on the ragged edge, a cross between flying and falling from 
 a roof, and if we have a spirited horse and a driver with a fondness 
 for going back and forth over the car tracks and as near to the pass- 
 ing trains as possible, the exercise contains as much of the wild 
 Irishman as one is likely to get on the old sod. But soon one 
 comes to like them and appreciate their exceeding convenience. 
 
 While mentioning matters of somewhat minor importance, it will 
 be in order to refer to the mutton chops of these islands. They 
 are among the most delicious of viands. We must sympathize with 
 the Englishman in America who bewails their absence. In size 
 they are as large nearly as the small porterhouse steak. They are 
 cut thick with a liberal supply of fat. They are thoroughly cooked, 
 yet we should regard them as underdone at home. This is a striking 
 peculiarity. They were thus juicy, and in taste there is not the 
 slightest suspicion of wool, while in tenderness they rank with the 
 tenderloin. Remarking these facts to a gentleman, he discoursed 
 somehow thus : " I think that the excellence of our mutton is due 
 to our climate. We have almost constant dampness, we have no 
 scorching heats in summer to dry the pasture, and no piercing colds 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 43 
 
 in winter to pinch the flocks, so that our grass is always abundant 
 and tender and nourishing. The flocks never wander in search of 
 food ; indeed, our fields are small, so that there is no opportunity 
 for them to stir about much. They are quiet and contented, and 
 have nothing to do but stand still and grow rapidly. Thus we 
 secure the best conditions, and to these, with a choice breed at the 
 start, I attribute its excellence." Thinking it over, I believe that 
 he has the right of it. But it is too bad that we lack the necessary 
 conditions. In beef they confess our superiority, also in trotting 
 horses; but in mutton and in racers they claim pre-eminence. 
 
 Ireland to-day is in full emerald costume, a ride over any of her 
 great railways being a panorama of pleasing change. I do not 
 wonder that her sons and daughters love her ardently. Despite her 
 many troubles, she is prosperous as a whole, and this fact shows the 
 intrinsic wealth of the land. When the long wished for man shall 
 come who can say just what the situation demands for Ireland's 
 highest happiness and prosperity, and when the day shall come on 
 which such policy shall be adopted, she will at once spring forward 
 on the lines of all useful industries and take an honorable place in the 
 United Kingdom. Her poverty-stricken ones appear on all hands, 
 and while those who know them better perhaps explain the case to 
 their own satisfaction, it strikes a stranger most mournfully. Wages 
 are low, and we are told that living is low too. If it is all on a 
 plane with the appearance of such persons on the best streets, it 
 cannot be high. Groups of happy girls, barefooted and with shawls 
 home over their heads are not more mournful in what they suggest of 
 life and discomforts than in the fact that they seem to think nothing 
 of it, regarding it as a finality, while the others accept it for them as 
 a matter of course. Side by side with these are many of the best 
 men and women the world can show. One of these is John Hogg, 
 a flax merchant of Belfast, through whose courtesy a few of us made 
 a most interesting visit to the Brookfield linen works, inspecting 
 every process from the reception of the raw material to the final 
 folding for market. We shall not soon forget his kindness nor lose 
 the mental photograph of his genial face as we took it at our part- 
 ing at the quay. I would give half a crown for a picture of the 
 group of five noisy newsboys who stood near him guying a lad on 
 the upper deck. When the clock on that interesting day struck 
 twelve, and the Brookfield poured out its 2,500 operatives into 
 
44 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 Crumlin road for their forty-five minutes' nooning, it was a literal 
 sea of humanity, representing all ages, from the gray haired sire to 
 the tender child, called a half-timer, from the fact that they work 
 one day and go to school the next at the expense of the company. 
 We found that wages were very low. We were told that living was 
 cheap to correspond. But we fancy it was cheap not from the low 
 price at which they can secure what our American workmen pay 
 more for, but simply because they don't have the same kind nor 
 amount of food and comforts. Our workmen are better dressed, 
 better housed, better fed, and have more spare money for holiday 
 enjoyment and for evening entertainment. No doubt America is 
 the place for the workingman, and whatever tends to disarrange our 
 tariff to his detriment should be frowned upon and voted against 
 by every man of brawn and by every man of sympathetic heart. 
 When we go to the matter of getting ahead in life the rule applies 
 to all classes of commoners. A distinguished Scotch clergyman in 
 the United States told me that he did not care to revisit his native 
 land for fear of being tempted to remain, and that would be so bad 
 for his boys. God bless America ! the country for the man who has 
 his own way to make in the world. 
 
 We looked in upon the Irish General Assembly now in session at 
 Belfast This has always been a remarkable body of men. It is 
 small as compared with the Presbyterian Church I represent, but 
 its influence upon Ireland has been and still is very great. Dr. 
 John Hall, of New York, and Dr. John S. Mclntosh, of Philadel- 
 phia, are contributions of this church to America in later years. 
 Irish wit played all over their discussions of grave topics, and a loud 
 laugh oft repeated was not deemed disorderly. The lobby, too, 
 took a very prominent part in expressing approbation or the reverse 
 of sentiments uttered in the way of stamping and applauding. This 
 is very singular to us across the water. The popular favorites were 
 unmistakably pointed out in this way. The rank and file of the 
 people are intelligent. They freely discuss church questions and 
 appreciate a good point as soon as it is made. They attend these 
 meetings to such numbers that an admission fee is charged in order 
 to prevent going and coming and to insure better order. When a 
 man pays for a thing he wants it. They go to get the arguments, 
 and are silent that they may hear. One dear brother got tangled in 
 his fractions, as many another has done before him. He was elo- 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 45 
 
 quently advocating systematic beneficence, and spoke of the growth 
 of the idea in one's own experience where practiced. He cited the 
 case of a friend who began by giving one-tenth of his income, and 
 became so filled with the beauty and power of the system that he 
 was not content to bide there, but went on leaping far beyond those 
 bounds, and finally gave one hundreth. The merciless laugh of the 
 opposition brought him to his senses, and he clambered upon his 
 feet again and hobbled on in pain to a resting place. 
 
 The intermediate examinations ordered by the Government are 
 now in progress. A student can prosecute his work under any 
 teacher he may choose, or at any place or at home, provided he can 
 pass creditably these severe examinations. To stimulate exertion to 
 excel, money prizes are given to the best scholars. One young lady 
 of a family where we passed an hour or two took a ^60 prize pay- 
 able in 20 instalments for three years. A poor clergyman had 
 two sons, who were fine students, who paid the entire expenses of 
 their education by the prize money they earned. This money is the 
 result of disestablishment. It went formerly to appointed favorites 
 who drew large salaries and did little or no work ; now it is dis- 
 tributed according to merit and placed where it will do some good. 
 Ulster is just now full of glee over the fact that for the third time 
 in the last ten years a student from the Belfast institutions has taken 
 the senior wrangler in the mathematical tripos at Cambridge. The 
 professors are jubilant, especially the man of intricate figures, the 
 people are proud, the newspapers are laudatory and boastful, and 
 the undergraduates are getting ready for a grand torchlight pro- 
 cession in honor of the victor on his return, and the chances are 
 that he will have a ride on the shoulders of enthusiastic fellows. 
 
 When we awake the Clyde hammers will be ringing in our ears. 
 
 FRANCIS A. HORTON. 
 
46 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 LETTER IX. 
 
 GLASGOW, June 16, 1888. 
 
 Hast ever sailed on Lomond, the beautiful, among the Gram- 
 pian sentinels that guard enchanted land ? Hast ever rambled by 
 the roaring falls of Snaid or galloped through Glen Arklet, along by 
 Arklet Water, or looked into the heaven deep mirror of Katrine 
 and seen clouds floating numberless fathoms down and birds wheel- 
 ing their flight far under the surface, or coached through bosky dell 
 and wild defile past Achray and Vennachar and frightened the 
 brown hare from his repose along Ben Ledi's heathery moor ? No ? 
 Then dream of it, cherish it as a sweet thought lighting up your 
 future, count it among the rewards to which hard service shall fairly 
 entitle you. Anticipation will not lay on colors that experience will 
 need to tone down. You cannot anticipate it, it will come upon 
 you from new sides, it will break over you with unexpected wealth, 
 it will assault you where your guards are down and carry away cap- 
 tive your admiration in spite of you. The dream itself will do you 
 good. From childhood I have crossed the sea but always at night 
 when sleep locked up slow plodding facts, and turned loose all fairy 
 fancies. Through labors multiplied and privations manifold the 
 dream led on, a comfort and a stimulant, beneficial always. And 
 now the early dream has been for years a fact accomplished and it 
 is as helpful in remembrance as it was in fancy. Repetition rinds 
 the charm unbroken, a -joy forever. If you have made this round 
 then sure I am you promised the spirit of these solitudes that when 
 you could spare the time you would return and linger and let the 
 soul within you grow big by communing with itself, and with nature, 
 in its wild grandeur, in soft beauty, in variety and extent, as here- 
 abouts displayed. Pluck up heart and hope, all you my young 
 friends of slender means, there is much in this world worth working 
 for, which when it comes to you will be all the sweeter if seasoned 
 with the thought I have earned it for myself. To industry, fru- 
 gality, perseverance and personal worth all bars to progress are 
 withdrawn. 
 
 "But the grumbler was there, with his nose in the air. And where 
 is he not, and where was he ever wanted ? Who so blind as not to 
 see that the charm, the restfulness, of foreign travel lie in not having 
 things as one has been accustomed to them. When foreign lands 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 47 
 
 become like our own then we may as well stay at home. Further- 
 more, he who looks carefully into things generally finds that there is a 
 good reason why certain courses were adopted, and that there are 
 equally good reasons why they are not changed. Certain it is his 
 complaints will never change time-honored customs nor further his 
 own comfort. The American who comes away here is not discover- 
 ing a forgotten land that has drifted off on the tide of time into 
 unfrequented solitudes, outside the current of progress, and it is not 
 well for him to assume that he has. Wise men fall in with the pre- 
 vailing order and make no odious comparisons, and enjoyed them- 
 selves immensely. 
 
 The Glasgow International Exhibition is in full blast, and holds 
 out the promise of a very hard day's work to the visitor who will 
 examine its extensive display. The usual catalogue is presented, 
 with here and there a variation. We may note the department 
 devoted to the Queen's Jubilee presents. They are numerous but 
 very disappointing. In themselves they are totally unworthy of so 
 great an occasion. But we need to look at them only as vessels 
 that contained a precious wealth of love and loyalty. In these her 
 heart found richness ; but an outsider generally jumps to the con- 
 clusion that so precious a cargo, on so special an errand, would 
 have been carried in ships of oriental magnificence. But many of 
 them fall to the level, and not a few fall below the level, of the best 
 wedding presents that we have seen displayed in Oakland. Others 
 are costly some are royal. The boat in which Grace Darling per- 
 formed her brave acts attracted much attention. I should scarcely 
 regard it as seaworthy in a moderate gale when compared with 
 more modern boats. But she won with it imperishable renown. 
 However, few remember that she was not alone, that her father was 
 with her and was in command. Nevertheless she was a brave girl 
 and deserves all the praise that has been lavished upon her. What 
 a singular thing is renown. How it flees from those who pursue it 
 for its own sake and comes unbidden to those who never think of 
 it. And how little we know what work or action is to last forever 
 and keep us from being forgotten. Most things are improved upon 
 by the generations succeeding the one which gave them birth, but 
 some things seem to have been born perfect at the start. Thus, 
 that Jacquard loom, weaving intricate figures in lace curtains, even 
 though with much clatter and confusion, has undergone a vast 
 
48 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 amount of improving in the application of the Jacquard idea, but 
 the idea is the same now as three hundred years ago, or was it not 
 quite so long? Then, too, the antique manner of ironing and put- 
 ting a finishing gloss upon linen fabrics by pounding them is still in 
 vogue, and nothing can take its place. It is about all one's hear- 
 ing is worth to go into that department of the factory, but once in 
 the whole machine consists of a heavy frame supporting a large 
 roller some eighteen inches in diameter, which is heavily padded by 
 being wound round and round with linen cloth. The fabric is 
 made to pass over this roller, when heavy wooden mauls are dropped 
 on it as it passes the center line. These mauls are of hard wood, 
 some four or five inches square and about four feet long. They 
 stand on end side by side, close together, the whole length of the 
 bed roller, and being furnished with a cleat on one side, they are 
 lifted one by one by means of corresponding cleats inserted spirally 
 into a roller properly adjusted and revolving rapidly. Thus they 
 fall with a wave-like motion from end to end, but they fall hard and 
 rebound, and you know when each individual one of the many 
 scores comes down. It is a sorf of roar with distinctness. My first 
 thought was that John Chinaman could get all the noise here that 
 his New Year festivities require. 
 
 On Saturday night wife and I took a walk on Argyle street, at least 
 we edged, and elbowed, and crowded our way along through more 
 people than we have ever encountered on any street on an ordinary 
 occasion. Almost without an exception they were of the poorer 
 classes, and our hearts pitied them. So many of them were drink- 
 ing hard, so many of them of both sexes were drunk, so many 
 women coaxing their husbands home, so much brutality and coarse- 
 ness, so many rags, so many hands outstretched for alms, so many 
 babies in arms, and in such arms,. so dirty, so thin, so ragged. "I 
 belong to the upper ten, the upper ten, the upper ten," sings one 
 side of society with laugh and jollity, and " I belong to the lower 
 five, the lower five, the lower five," sings another side through 
 curses and tears with hunger and filth. The upper despises the 
 lower, the lower curses the higher. Rotten potatoes in the cellar 
 mean diphtheria and death in the parlor. These classes that fill the 
 low grounds will make their baleful influence to be felt upon the 
 high grounds when occasion ripens. The devil is prodding them 
 as with hot irons through his inflaming drinks, and one of these 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 49 
 
 days we shall pay the cost of tampering with them. On the other 
 side the gospel is doing what it can, and all that any one is trying 
 to do, to remove the danger. Fourteen years ago the Holy Spirit, 
 through Mr. Moody, swept this city with a mighty revival. He 
 originated the Sunday breakfast for the poor people who never have 
 a hot meal throughout the week. This has grown into a wonderful 
 work, extending from city to city. Last Sunday we went at 2 p. M. 
 to Tent Hall, off Saltmarket street, to attend the children's meeting 
 and see them at their dinner. Making ourselves known, the general 
 manager took us into the regions behind the scenes, into the store- 
 room and into the kitchen. There we saw two circular boilers, each 
 filled to the brim with boiled rice and milk twenty-six gallons of 
 milk in each, fresh from the country on Sunday morning, ninety 
 pounds of rice by actual weight in each, and also in each precisely 
 twenty-eight pounds of sugar. This was deemed sufficient of this 
 food to supply the day's demands, but that there might be no dis- 
 appointment to any a surplus quantity stood ready. Beautiful bread 
 cut into suitable portions was supplied in quantity. Having satisfied 
 ourselves hereabouts we went into the main hall, and being seated 
 on the platform, looked on with interest. First a hymn and an 
 earnest prayer by manager and monitors alone. Then the doors 
 were opened, and in came the throng, some fifteen hundred of them, 
 with towzeled heads, ragged garments, three-fourths of the girls 
 with bare feet, many little girls with smaller brother or sister in 
 arms. They were assorted so that the little folks were on the 
 ground floor, those larger on the side elevated seats, and those a 
 little larger in the gallery rows. They sang with a will, and at a signal 
 up went every hand to be inspected, witn the promise that any dirty 
 one should be sent to the bathroom at once. The singing was 
 spirited, and responses in prayer were hearty, and attention to the 
 lesson for the day was close. The letters from those who were 
 taking their two weeks in the country at the expense of the mission 
 were read to the delight of the mass. Then came the trucks loaded 
 with cups holding a pint each of rice and milk, and with bread in 
 abundance. These were distributed to each one present, and were 
 eagerly devoured. I can testify from actual taste that the lunch 
 was a success. In the cold weather rich broth is substituted for 
 rice and milk. It was a sight never to be forgotten. Saltmarket 
 5treet is one of the very lowest in the city, and the influence of this 
 5 
 
50 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 mission is very salutary. I have spoken only of one feature of the 
 work ; there are many others. It is supported entirely by voluntary 
 gifts, and they never have lacked means. Thus, on last Sabbath, 
 a gentleman requested the privilege of paying for the dinner, cost- 
 ing about five pounds sterling. 
 
 "Those girls behind you are the problem we have to deal with," 
 said my friend. I looked and saw a large band of misses, from 
 twelve to fifteen years of age, who were coarse, showing low origin, 
 and, I infer, seeking low company themselves. This world is bad 
 enough now, but what a place it would be if all of these kind offices, 
 all of these tender sympathies, born of and inspired by the gospel, 
 were withdrawn. No one would care to stay long in it, and those 
 whose circumstances were such that they could stay with some com- 
 fort would probably be assisted out of it by less highly favored 
 people. The future problem of the masses is an immense one. It 
 behooves all men of all classes to put away selfishness to plan, and 
 execute in a larger spirit of brotherly kindness. 
 
 Stirling and vicinity must ever be a center of attraction to the 
 student of history. It never looked more beautiful than now, amid 
 all the glories of these early summer days. We do not speak of 
 the dirty, noisy town, but of its historic parts and of its rural environ- 
 ments. Barren mountain, wooded hill, fertile plain, sparkling 
 stream, they never were more charming. Sweet-faced Mary is win- 
 ning her way to the better heart of man as the years roll by. The 
 din of the old strifes has died away; the questions then up are not 
 forward now. We are enjoying the fruits of those struggles, and 
 forgetting all, as we forget and yet remember our own civil strife ; 
 we are coming to see more "the fact of a beautiful woman, born in 
 perilous times, surrounded by unprincipled people, educated in a 
 false and bigoted system, making the mistakes that might well be 
 looked for in such a case, and at last atoning terribly by the loss of 
 her own head. She was probably the most beautiful woman who ever 
 lived, and the most to be pitied. Her spirit fills all the air here- 
 abouts ; we cannot stir without coming upon something that reminds 
 us of her and awakens a new sigh in the heart over her misfortunes. 
 Nor was she alone. Here Douglas fell by the treacherous hand of 
 his sovereign, under whose safe conduct he retired to the old castle. 
 Yonder is the ghouling hill whereon rolled many a noble head that 
 fell under sovereign displeasure. Through what throes and woes 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 51 
 
 the race has come on to its present state. What horrid old bar- 
 barians our fathers were. We have little to be proud of as we look 
 back, and no reason to be discouraged as we look at ourselves and 
 into the future. 
 
 Dumbarton Cathedral yonder is of great interest to rne. It is 
 supposed to be the seat of the ancient Culdees. Yonder on the 
 Clyde, near Bowling bay, can still be seen the ruins of Douglas 
 Castle that marks the beginning of the old Roman wall of Hadrian, 
 north of which even the Roman Empire never extended. In those 
 wild regions the pure apostolic succession was preserved, together 
 with the simple worship of the early days, and here, if anywhere in 
 the world, the boast can be maintained, with valid history at its 
 back, that unbroken succession from the apostles in ordination and 
 service can be found among these Culdee Presbyterians. However, 
 we do not set much store by these things. We leave the alphabet 
 at the apostles' command, and not stopping with questions such as 
 that of "the laying on of hands" we strive to "go on unto per- 
 fection." But the place is interesting and the facts are true. 
 
 Very tender and complimentary mention was made in the 
 churches on Sunday of the departed German Emperor. He is held 
 in highest esteem for his manly, personal qualities, as well as for his 
 relations by marriage to. the Queen. The map of Europe has 
 greatly changed since the day when the London papers flamed out 
 against his betrothal to Victoria. Then they declared that the 
 Queen was sacrificing her daughter to a poor fellow who could only 
 hope to pick up a living by services he might render to the Emperor 
 of Russia. Since that day Germany has gone to the front, and the 
 poor mendicant dies the Emperor of one of the greatest European 
 powers and one of the noblest men in Europe. It is quite remarkable 
 to read how his education was pushed into all departments. Enter- 
 ing the army at ten years of age ; studying language and literature 
 under the first scholars of the land as tutors ; entering upon army 
 commissions at the same time that he entered the university; learn- 
 ing to do stable work and all the round of duty required of the 
 common soldier, that he might know how to sympathize with, and 
 not overwork, his men ; learning carpentering and bookbinding as 
 trades ; to come into sympathy with the working people of his 
 Empire, and at every point observing the strictest discipline, on the 
 old Emperor's motto, that to command one must know how to 
 
52 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 obey. All this made him the idol of the old man's heart, and more 
 than ever it is likely that the son's last severe and hopeless illness 
 hastened the father's departure. May God keep the new young 
 Emperor and shield him from the mistake of Rehoboam, in choos- 
 ing counselors as unwise and hotheaded as youth itself is apt to be. 
 
 FRANCIS A. HORTON. 
 
 LETTER X. 
 
 EDINBURGH, June 2oth, 1888. 
 
 Many tourists make a mistake in not visiting the beautiful north- 
 ern city of Inverness. The route to it is very pleasant and the 
 city itself is worthy of attention. Many persons have not the time, 
 as they think, although three or four days are all that are needed to 
 do it tolerably well. Others prefer the continent and hasten off 
 there, while not a few think that when they have made the round of 
 the lakes and taken a look at a few of the larger cities, that then 
 Scotland has no more to offer. Let me say in one word, that he 
 who misses this trip has not seen Scotland. The tourist leaves 
 Glasgow at seven o'clock in the morning on a swift, comfortable side- 
 wheel steamer and runs down the Clyde to Greenock. This sail is 
 always attractive. The great ship-building works are in full view, 
 the docks of three steamer lines in the American trade are passed, 
 beautiful homes on the banks of the narrow river are very near, the 
 historic remains, the celebrated points, the cultivated fields, the 
 busy towns, all pass in review. Then the run is made through the 
 Kyles, or narrows, of Butte. Round the island the ship winds, 
 often being closed in before and behind by high hills, leaving it 
 open to conjecture where the course will open out. Grand hills rise 
 one behind another, with still others seen through every valley in 
 the background, piled up with an unstinted hand. Here and there 
 landings are made where merry picnic parties debark, bent on a 
 happy day. Then the run is made for the opening of the Crinan 
 canal. This canal was cut across in order to avoid a long and 
 dangerous sail around the Mull of Kintyre. Upon reaching the 
 canal at Ardishaig a change is made to a cute little steamer of the 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 53 
 
 most approved pattern and thoroughly comfortable, specially built 
 for this canal service. Away she speeds, sometimes embowered in 
 the foilage of the high trees on both banks, sometimes affording an 
 outlook over wide reaches of plain and hillside, ever changing the 
 picture with every bend in the course. The nine miles passed 
 another change puts one again on a larger steamer. Now an arm 
 of the Atlantic ocean is crossed which leaves no one in doubt as to 
 its identity, and presently before us opens up the beautiful bay and 
 quiet city of Oban. The air now is cool, heavy wraps are needed. 
 The traveler is conscious of his progress northward. Here at six 
 o'clock in the afternoon he lands, and some twenty hotels bid for 
 his patronage. Oban is a famous summer resort. A noble wall is 
 built along the entire front of the city, on which is a smooth, broad 
 walk of concrete, called the Esplanade, furnished with seats, while 
 the bay in front is studded with small boats of all descriptions, in 
 charge of skippers ever ready to do you service. The scene is rest- 
 ful, the air is full of health and vigor, the life moving about is very 
 different from that at home. The day has exhausted the tourist's 
 power of admiring, and so he just sits still and looks on. Mean- 
 time, directly in front the sun goes down. He watches it sink, 
 throwing celestial radiance upon cloud and water and houses, and 
 over the wild wooded hills beyond, looks at his watch and finds it is 
 9 o'clock, with at least three hours yet of daylight for those who care 
 to claim it. Rising early, he takes the steamer at 5:45 o'clock, and 
 precisely at the advertised moment she pulls out and heads north- 
 ward. Yesterday repeats itself to-day, except that the air is now 
 too cool to admit of sitting in the open with comfort, although the 
 sun pours down without an intercepting cloud. 
 
 He is now in the wild Highlands. On every side are monuments 
 of the wars of clans. All day long he will sail through the domains 
 of the Campbells, the Camerons, the Mackintoshes, the Frasers, 
 the Monroes, whose ancestors lived mainly by robbing one another, 
 or died fighting deadly battles whenever they met. At the foot of 
 Ben Nevis, Scotland's highest mountain, he takes steamer on the 
 Caledonian canal at 9 o'clock, unless he prefers to stay over at the 
 Lochiel Arms and make the ascent of the mountain. He is now 
 sixty-four miles from Inverness, twenty-four of which are canal and 
 the remainder open lochs. History and poetry come rushing into 
 mind as familiar names are spoken or read. Snow-capped mount- 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 ains, covered lower down with heather, stand around him. He 
 draws his tartan a little closer about him as he paces the windy 
 deck. The broom and whins in full flower light up the banks and 
 fields with their soft yellow blossoms; shaggy, small long-horned 
 cattle and sheep whose faces seem to have been dipped in ink, feed 
 quietly along. Crofters' cottages and proprietors' mansions dot the 
 hillside or adorn the lawns. After a day of full enjoyment and of 
 broader ideas he comes in view of Inverness with its highly culti- 
 vated . suburbs, and at 6 o'clock crosses the gang-plank, voting the 
 two days' excursion one never to be forgotten, in no one least thing 
 to be regretted. The return by rail, of course, can be done in 
 twenty-four hours to London. Such, in a few words that limp and 
 halt, are some of the soul's experiences on this trip northward. Let 
 no one omit it who is not driven to do so by dire necessity. 
 
 Inverness is a city of 18,000 inhabitants, beautifully situated on 
 rolling ground, with the river Ness running through the center of it, 
 which is spanned by two or more free suspension bridges. The city 
 is mostly built of stone, and is very solid. It is the chief distributing 
 center of this wide northern country, and does the banking for a con- 
 siderable territory. There is nothing of special note for a tourist in 
 the place itself beyond a hundred other towns. The courthouse and 
 jail are built in the form of a castle and are some fifty years old, 
 There is a handsome modern cathedral. There is a most charming 
 walk laid out with care on an island in the Ness, where birds abound 
 and lovers walk, and all is shaded and quiet and rural. There is a 
 large asylum for the insane, and the mournful fact appears that 
 there are some seven hundred inmates. They are to a great extent 
 hereditary cases, arising from inter-marriage. For example, the 
 Island of Lewis is attached to this county. A gentleman engaged 
 in the tea trade, having amassed a princely fortune, bought the 
 island and became proprietor. He died, but his wife remains there 
 with her seat at Stornoway as proprietrix. There are now on the 
 island some 18,000 people who marry freely among their own relatives. 
 From this island many cases of insanity are brought over to the 
 asylum, I am informed. 
 
 This is only one case. This whole question of what to do with 
 the cotters and surplus crofters is pressing upon public attention, 
 Possibly all may not know who these people are. For their sakes 
 justify me against any charge of pedantry if I explain the terms. A 
 
A PASTOKAL JOURNEY. 55 
 
 croft is a small bit of a farm, therefore a crofter is a small bit of a 
 farmer. But the land he lives upon belongs to a proprietor, so that 
 a crofter is further pretty much what we mean by a squatter, except 
 that he squats with knowledge of the proprietor and pays rent as 
 long as he stays. He has a very few acres of arable land say four 
 to seven which he cultivates. His food is oatmeal, potatoes and 
 fish. He needs but little money, for oatmeal is cheap, his potatoes 
 he is supposed to raise, and he can have all the fish that he chooses 
 to catch. Not having much to do he does not cultivate the habit 
 of doing much, and upon, the whole prefers to have his wife do it 
 all. Generally she manages to monopolize the activity of the 
 family. In addition to the arable land, certain sheep range is 
 granted. A whole community clubbing together have one flock 
 to occupy the range. Formerly the arable land was, in common, 
 laid up into sections with the plow. Every man was conscientious 
 in his work, for the sections were distributed by lot after being 
 planted, and he did not know, in case he slighted his work of culti- 
 vating, but that he might draw that very section. But now this is 
 done away for the most part. So much for the squatter farmer 
 whose lands might at anytime be taken back by the proprietor and 
 he left to squat somewhere else. It is a miserable life with no 
 outlook. 
 
 The cotter is still worse off. He may be a son of the crofter, 
 who has become a man and has married a wife, and has no place 
 to call his home. His father permits him to build a cottage on a 
 corner of his croft, but he must go away to find employment. By- 
 and-by his son gets married, and what is he to do ? This question 
 is pressing for solution. Riots have resulted from the distressful 
 condition of affairs. Thousands of acres, say the crofters, are 
 taken up for deer parks and hunting grounds, and a man is of less 
 value than a deer or a sheep or a grouse. God made us and gave 
 us a home here, and he does not mean us to starve to death. So 
 now and then they rise, and with the Bible and regular devotions 
 going on in one part of the camp, a slain deer may be roasting in 
 another. Not long ago so severe an outbreak occurred that troops 
 were called out to quell the disturbance. Certain it is that the 
 poor fellows have sympathy with them. The proprietors, on the 
 other hand, say that the vast deer ranges are of no earthly use for the 
 crofters. They are barren moors, say they, and the need of keep- 
 
56 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 ing them up gives employment to many crofters and the money 
 made out of them is expended in improvements for the general 
 benefit. However this may be the crofters say that they would like 
 a chance to try ; that they have converted thousands of acres of bar- 
 ren moor upon which they were allowed to settle because it was 
 barren moor, into productive soil, subject to constantly increased 
 rentals, with finally a notice to leave. They think that they could 
 take Winan's immense range in Rossbire for example Winan, the 
 American, who owns a straight hundred miles of land and whose son 
 was reported upon in The Northern Chronicle of Inverness yester- 
 day as being a wonderful sportsman. They think that they could put 
 his land to better use. So one of the rich proprietors is about to set 
 out for Manitoba in August next to see what opening presents itself 
 there for the occupancy of the surplus crofter and cotter population. 
 Thus the only solution to the question now being considered is 
 emigration, but in case they refuse to emigrate the question will 
 return more violently than ever. Here, again, the masses loom up 
 and demand attention jto their condition. 
 
 I have been traveling for a couple of days with a reporter of an 
 Inverness paper. It was very pleasant to meet one of the frater- 
 nity. I see so much of them at home and find them so agreeable 
 that I was anxious to know whether the prominent traits that adorn 
 and magnify the knights of the press in America were as prominent 
 here. These are supposed to be a sharp nose to pry with, a pencil 
 that flies, or as malignant critics say, that takes off its "f" when 
 it flies, and a wing of powerful stroke to span the wide chasms 
 between the known and reduce all mystery to a dead level of 
 history. I fancy that wherever found they are brothers born. A 
 boy was running along the tow-path with a pail of milk and a glass 
 which he polished on his coat sleeve from time to time in the pres- 
 ence of the passengers who were supposed to use it, and I being 
 somewhat tired of the dry bread and foreign cookery in general, 
 thought perhaps the milk would taste like home. I hailed him, and 
 what did he do but stare and grin. I hailed him again, supposing 
 that he misunderstood me, when he grinned all the more. Then 
 my reporter friend spoke to him in awful gibberish, when over went 
 the pail and up came the brimming glass in a twinkle. I was in 
 the land of the Gael, and my English was at a discount. This led to 
 some questions as lo his powers of using the Gaelic language. He 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 57 
 
 replied : " Yes, you understand, I am working on a proprietary jour- 
 nal, and these grumbling crofters hold meetings, the purport of 
 which we ought to know. So, you understand, I slip down and do 
 them up." 
 
 Like all reporters, he knows all the clergy. We had three of the 
 local cloth on board. One of them was reading from a white cov- 
 ered book, and the second was laughing until his eyes were tight 
 shut. He went straight up to them and said, " Ah, now, and do I 
 see you reading a white back book?" They made some explanation 
 that there was a funny story in it about a friend, when he turned 
 away and said to me, " That old clerygyman never laughs. He is 
 one of the very solemn order. They read no novels, little else than 
 the Bible, and draw the line at white back books. It does me 
 good to see him merry. If I were to tell my old mother that I saw 
 him laugh she'd not believe me." Another clergyman came and 
 sat down by him and talked pleasantly, and when he was gone he 
 said to me, " That man got married and went on his tour. A gen- 
 tleman opened the door of the railway carriage where he was, when 
 he waved him off, saying, ' Don't come away in this ; I'm a bride.' " 
 Verily they are all alike, and good fellows, too, most of them, 
 Only my friend was lately married and had been to London on 
 his wedding trip. Herein he sets a good example to all of his asso- 
 ciates. A thousand good wishes to Ross, of the Northern Chronicle^ 
 and to his bonny Scotch bride. 
 
 But the trip to Inverness is far from being complete in the north- 
 ward journey. There now remains before the tourist the return 
 by rail which in no wise falls behind that up by steamer. It is a 
 long ride, but not in the least tedious. After a good hearty dinner 
 at the Royal, and a pleasant farewell to the proprietor, Mr. Christie, 
 and a final play with and caress to his beautiful collie, Sable, the 
 tourist takes his seat in the carriage, and at three o'clock is off like 
 the wind via Perth to Edinburgh. For a little time the pull is 
 a hard one, but presently the descent begins, and the train follows 
 hard upon the heels of the engine. There is an exhilarating sense 
 of gliding down hill through the most romantic glens, over beautiful 
 farms, winding among hills covered with verdure, until at Pitlochry 
 the train runs along the edge of a wild ravine where the scenery 
 culminates. At about ten o'clock the train halts at the Waverly 
 station, Edinburgh, and the never-to-be-forgotten tour ends. 
 6 
 
58 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 Of the city of Edinburgh and its famous buildings I shall say 
 nothing, for all the world comes to Edinburgh. All the world 
 admires Edinburgh, and all the world is wise in so doing. No 
 Scotchman dies happily unless he has visited this Mecca of his race. 
 The city is as clean as the marble steps of a Quaker residence in 
 Philadelphia ; it is as orderly as a prayer meeting ; it is as stiff and 
 prim as a maid of uncertain continuance, a circumstance intended 
 to be highly complimentary to both. Scott's monument still stands 
 forth one of the first in the \sorld ; Princes street is as attractive as 
 ever ; the Cairngorn pebbles work up as witchingly as ever into jew- 
 elry and possess the unrivalled power to render feminine beholders 
 temporarily insane ; the clan tartans in plaids and rugs overcome 
 the gentlemen, and the knee breeches and heavy plaid stockings 
 brings to light the callow American. The Cathedral never looked 
 so massive and imposing as to-day from the front windows of the 
 Palace Hotel. Of all these, as well as of Hollyrood and of St. 
 Giles, and of all the rest, men have written and subscribers have 
 read to their full satisfaction. Let it be ours to glean between the 
 rows. Perhaps we may find as much of the true life of the country and 
 of the interesting incident of travel there as elsewhere. Now, for 
 example, I do not remember ever to have read of a disease that 
 attacts tourists frequently. However, I have met the victims often. 
 They seem to be ashamed of it. Nor did I know how badly it 
 takes hold of one until I had an attack myself. I may call it the 
 " Clean strap." It comes on, for example, when a man finds him- 
 self in a small city where the pretty things have taken his last half 
 crown and the only bank politely hands back his letter of credit, 
 regretting, etc. Nothing dismayed, he offers currency of the land 
 of the Stars and Stripes in payment of his fare elsewhere, but finds 
 that the booking clerk at the station does not appreciate the Amer- 
 ican Eagle at his full feather. Then the tourist's feathers begin to 
 droop, and he to wonder what he is to do. Stay he cannot, for 
 that will be deceiving the landlord of his hotel - } to walk he is not 
 inclined ; to beg he is not accustomed. Happy is the patient if 
 he can convalesce as did a couple I could tell of, who, having 
 emptied all pockets and pooled all issues down to the last copper 
 baubee, found they could manage to squeeze humbly into Edin- 
 burgh third class. For evermore, blessed be third-class wagons. 
 Now ask your friend, lately returned, whether I have not him in 
 
 mind. 
 
 FRANCIS A. HORTON. 
 
1 PASTORAL JOURNEY. 59 
 
 LETTER XI. 
 
 WlNDERMERE, June 30, 1 888. 
 
 The Esk flows sweetly on through the deeply-wooded glen, but 
 Roslyn, the castle of the St. Glairs, is a moldering ruin. The old 
 yew at its side, with seven hundred years of growth, is green from 
 ground to tip, and will no doubt live on for centuries to come. But 
 year by year the tooth of time gnaws into the ancient pile. The 
 mevis returns each season to warble with ravishing sweetness, 
 hidden among its leafy trees or in gorgeous ivy, but no hand 
 rolls back the crumbling tide that is sweeping man's work away. 
 Yet in its day what pride and pomp and power were here. In those 
 times outside of castle walls there was no safety, inside was abso- 
 lute dictatorship. In kingly state Earl William held his court on 
 this overhanging crag. Dizzy grows the brain as one looks over the 
 bridge of stone, with hip-high coping on each side, by which it is 
 approached, into the Esk one hundred and fifty feet below. Did 
 ever in those wars fierce foemen grapple here and seek to crowd 
 each other over into that horrible abyss? Proud lords waited on 
 Earl William's will to manage his household and to superintend his 
 table and the like. Queenly ladies of good degree, seventy-five in 
 number, attended upon the baroness. In this damp, dirty old vault, 
 musty and disgusting, was their bakery, the oven and chimney still 
 seen. Below it, in another musty vault, was the oven for their 
 meats, which were served on vessels of gold and silver. Rude in 
 its material expression, the pride of the heart was full blown then as 
 now. The castle gate has fallen, but the wall on one side and a 
 portion of the arch are still standing. Perhaps the victors Hertford 
 or Monk broke it thus many years ago. The stalls for the chargers 
 to the right of the gate within still stand unroofed, but the keep, 
 the dungeon, is broken and exposes the circular staircase along 
 which the condemned of his lordship went to languish. In proof 
 of the power and pride of the house of St. Clair stands on the 
 premises Roslyn Chapel, the especial gem of ornamented gothic 
 architecture founded by Sir William. It was never completed, only 
 the chancel and part of a transept being built. These are a study 
 both within and without. The great variety of designs is bewilder- 
 ing, there being no duplication in detail. The high vault of the 
 
60 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 nave, in shape the pointed arch, is divided into five parts, each 
 studded with flowers in stone, yet no two divisions are alike. There 
 are thirteen varieties of the arch in the building. No two foliated 
 capitals are the same. The twelve pedestals on which once stood 
 the apostles are each of separate design. The profusion of ex- 
 quisite stone carving about the altar is great. The three columns 
 in front of what now is the altar, but which was intended originally 
 for confessional boxes, are unlike. One is wound with pomegranate 
 without fruit; another is fluted; the third is a pattern figure. Of 
 course it was all done for pride and piety combined. The barons 
 were all buried under the floor ; old Sir William, without coffin or 
 shroud, was laid down in full armor. Walter Scott has immortalized 
 the chapel; and Drummond, whose home was hard by in this same 
 glen of the Esk, has sung its praises. One can well see how the 
 minstrel's soul would swell and his hand would grasp his harp, 
 or pen, as he sat amid these surroundings and let the past roll over 
 him. Musty old stone heaps, they need a soul in the beholder to 
 interpret them ; then they grow young again, and full of deepest 
 interest. 
 
 Come with me, ye who love to dream of the past (and who with 
 a soul does not), and let us go for a day-dream up into the castle 
 here in Edinburgh. Roslyn out yonder on the Esk, seven miles 
 from town, is of yesterday beside the antiquity with which we shall 
 surround ourselves. That cannot go beyond the eleventh century. 
 This no man can get behind, it is lost in antiquity. Here then is a 
 range for imagination's mightiest wing. Get up and lean against 
 Mons Meg, the famous cannon, made of bars of malleable iron run- 
 ning longitudinally with rings of the same material, sprung on, and 
 dating back at least four hundred years. Thus we are leaning 
 against Old Antiquity to start with. America drops out of sight as 
 we look at Meg. When she first spoke Columbus was begging 
 ships to hunt for bigger countries than he had in mind. Glance 
 over Meg and let the eye fall on St. Margaret's Chapel, then Meg 
 falls out of sight. One thousand and eighty A. D. What a leap ! 
 Eight hundred years backward from to-day ; and those walls in part 
 and that interior arch complete of carved stone, have stood through 
 all these centuries and have watched the pen of history making its 
 long-drawn records. Back of this chapel, in its place in time, 
 comes the record of the considerable town of Edinburgh as early as 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 61 
 
 eight hundred and fifty-four. Back of the town in time was, of 
 course, the original castle stronghold, no doubt correctly asserted to 
 reach into the period of the Saxon heptarchy. It was only as people 
 dared to venture that cities grew up around the strongholds. The 
 old Greeks had their Acropolis, with houses about the foot from 
 which the people could run into the strong tower when danger 
 threatened. The writer of the Proverbs makes the same references. 
 Thus out of the dim past, and following its ideas, we see arising 
 this ancient castle, on the top of this inaccessible hill, beyond the 
 reach of catapult or battering ram, and a sheer thousand years 
 above the date of gunpowder. By time, by fire, by vandal hand, 
 the old has dropped piecemeal away, the new has come into its 
 place, the location ever the same, the identity preserved, but chang- 
 ing in detail. We see it in its loneliness grim, threatening, in that 
 early morning of the Christian era. The air is chill with cruelty, 
 lawlessness, and rapine. There was no safety within the range of 
 jealousy, below it there was none save in vassal submission. Time 
 rolls, manners soften, and law grows respectable, then the castle 
 gates open and the city begins to grow on Castle Hill. Then on 
 comes Holyrood yonder, with the ruined abbey, whose roof has 
 been down for fully two hundred years. Then about Canongate 
 the city grew. Little by little we unroll the map and see the city 
 expand under our eye. Finally the valley is passed and the new 
 city comes in, until now about this mother castle, whose "top is 
 bald with dry antiquity," the daughter city lies 200,000 strong. 
 And what men and women her census has enrolled. What warriors, 
 what statesmen, what jurists, what preachers, what reformers, what 
 scholars and writers. There is more brain in Scotland's soil than 
 the combined world has in action to-day. What martyr blood has 
 drenched her acreage; what beasts like Claverhouse and bloody 
 Mackenzie have ravined among her chosen ; what horrors of cruelty 
 have been performed. Let us arrest the dream, it will end in night- 
 mare, and we shall start afTrighted as though we heard the hoofs of 
 Claverhouse's troopers and saw the black*" Maiden" embracing us 
 with her long arms and dropping her sharp blade to kiss our necks. 
 To drink in these inspirations, to cause the edges of our historic 
 ideas to become clean cut, to provoke to more full and careful study, 
 are some of the advantages of travel. Parents who can afford it 
 can do no better thing for their studious children than spend an 
 
62 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 occasional vacation in this sort of object teaching For the lazy 
 boys and girls, of course, let no provision be made. 
 
 What loss the world would sustain were all its ancient church- 
 yards done away. To many they contain nothing but bones and 
 stones and unpleasant reminders. But to those who take in human 
 life in its fullness, as continuing beyond the tomb (the best of it 
 lying beyond to those who live best here), it becomes a vnst picture 
 gallery, only in the reverse order of the usual experience, for in 
 them we hare the paintings without the catalogue, but here we have 
 the catalogue, and memory or biography must needs supply the 
 likeness. In the midst of the roar of life about Parliament House 
 square, Edinburgh, when one stumbles on that iron brick in the 
 pavement, about eighteen inches square, inscribed simply with two 
 raised capitals, I. K., and realizes that underneath lies the bones of 
 John Knox, the vision springs forth at once of that man of whom 
 Regent Morton said he never feared the face of clay of that faithful 
 witness who minced not the truth even for the sake of Mary ; who 
 preached with such soul intensity that one of his hearers said it 
 seemed as though he would dash his pulpit " a' to blads "; who 
 loved Scotland so that in his prayer he cried to God, " Give me 
 Scotland or I die !" To read these facts is one thing, but to come 
 in contact with the very places that knew them last is far another. 
 
 Grey Friars is replete with blood-curdling history. No picture 
 gallery in Europe can so stir the soul. Westminster Abbey is alive 
 with the most distinguished company to be found on earth. Let us 
 adhere to the sweet, natural method of caring for our bodies when 
 the soul lays them down as no longer needed. The contrast of this 
 has been haunting me for days, ever since I examined at Glasgow, 
 in the Bombay department of the exhibition, the Indian Tower of 
 Silence. I have wondered whether I ought to write to you about it, 
 but it seems to come in properly just here. It consists of a very 
 high wall in the form of a circle, having a very considerable diame- 
 ter, all, of course, open to the heavens. About half way up on one 
 side the wall is pierced for a doorway that is reached by steps. No 
 one enters the tower save the dead and those who minister to them. 
 At the foot of ^he stairs all relatives take final leave and turn away. 
 The door opens upon an inclined floor, sloping toward the center and 
 terminating in a circular well of large size. Side by side, as closely 
 as they can be cut in the stone floor, all around next to the wall, with 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 63 
 
 their feet pointing toward the well, are excavations large enough to 
 hold a full grown man, and a few inches deep, with a valley cut 
 from the foot emptying into a drain that runs to the well. Inside 
 these a circle of the same number, but smaller in size, graduated 
 according to the narrowing circle for the bodies of women, and 
 inside these, close around the well, a row of the smallest size for 
 children. When a body is received it is stripped entirely naked 
 according to the word, " Naked came I into the world and naked 
 shall I go out of it," and laid in one of these receptacles. In a 
 few hours the vultures, which hover about this feeding ground, 
 have removed every particle of flesh, and the tropical sun and rains 
 finish the work. The bones are then thrown into the well king 
 and peasant alike, rich and poor, according to the word, " They 
 shall lie down alike in the dust." Three openings lead from the 
 well by means of drains to the outer soil. The whole conception is 
 horrible in the extreme, and is one of the outgrowths of heathenism. 
 Earth and fire being sacred, the body may neither be buried nor 
 burned, for in so doing these holy elements would be polluted. The 
 more widely we look abroad on the earth the more we find reason 
 to be thankful for our home in Christian America, and the less we 
 are inclined to copy the manners and customs of antiquity. The 
 world is growing better every day. Let our faces be toward the 
 future and not toward the past. 
 
 We have been rambling through the home of Walter Scott at 
 Abbottsford on the Tweed. What a modern pre-Raphaelite he was. 
 How he wrought to the last degree of faithfulness. I have seen 
 artists of this school at work. Every leaf had to be an exact copy 
 of the leaf before the eye. A leaf was not a leaf to them it must 
 be this leaf, and the tendril must have the exact number of curls, etc. 
 One of them had all of his furniture made by a joiner at great 
 expense that there might be no seeming but all reality, the tenons 
 must pass through the mortices, not go half way through with a cap 
 on the other side to simulate, and so forth. So Sir Walter seemed 
 to work. He put himself in contact with the things he was writing 
 about and he was faithful to nature. Hence the origin of his armory 
 full of all queer, quaint, interesting, rare, and horrid things. When 
 he wanted to describe an old gun, or pike, or key, or thumb-screw, he 
 took the article down, and like the artist with his leaf and tendril 
 he described it exactly and minutely. This is a charming idea, yet 
 
64 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 one whose execution calls for patient and pains-taking labor. In 
 literature such men make sure of their facts, not in the main but in 
 the fractions; in theology they deal with exact statements. And 
 the result in every case is work that must and will abide. His love 
 for Roslyn Chapel and Melrose Abbey is seen in the very many 
 copies he has made from them in the wood carving of his house. 
 The grotesque figureheads were reproduced in ceiling and corbel in 
 great numbers. He stands high in Scotland both literally and figu- 
 ratively. The latter in every mind and heart, the former in St. 
 George's square, Glasgow, where he surmounts an elevated shaft, 
 while far down below him on one side is an equestrian statue of the 
 Queen, and on the other side is an equestrian statue of the Prince 
 Imperial Consort. Thus at the last reckoning intellect is king, 
 while prince, queen and people gladly do it homage. 
 
 Leaving Melrose we turned aside into the wonderful lakeland of 
 England, the most charming of all places in the kingdom. Moun- 
 tains standing round on every side, of course, make valleys and in 
 these lakes have formed in great number with lovely, quiet, recesses 
 suitable for study and meditation, or for rest to a tired brain. At 
 Keswick we come upon Southey. Around Windermere we find the 
 walks of Wordsworth ; we see the fields through which he tramped, 
 crooning aloud some new poem as he shaped and reshaped it in his 
 mind, which the farmers described as his " booing to himself" as 
 he walked along. There is a path to a rock on the shores of 
 the lake. Climb it and you will see it is the poet's idea of its 
 chiefest point of beauty. Here, too, is the house of Harriet Mar- 
 tineau, like all the others built of cold gray stone. Here lived and 
 died Hartley Coleridge in the old house by the way. Up that glen 
 is the residence of Doctor Arnold, late master of Rugby. No won- 
 der they came to settle here. The quiet that literary people love, 
 the close heart contact with nature, the cliffs to challenge a climber's 
 muscle, the woodland to evoke thought, the waters for dreamy, 
 floating and reverie, all are here, and the birds, oh ! the wonderful 
 birds, the thrush singing like the leader of nature's choir ; the lark, 
 heaven high, sending melody down, they, too, are here. No won- 
 der that a lover of birds whom I know wished she had a cage as 
 big as a forest and had them all in it with barrels and barrels of 
 cracked wheat to make them evermore happy. Most heartily do I 
 commend this lake region to solicitous wives who see their husbands 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 65 
 
 running down and the day nearing when they must perforce go away 
 somewhere. You cannot go amiss of a quiet home in an hotel, or in 
 more private apartments, if desired. The whole region is given up 
 to entertaining guests from abroad. Coaches with four-in-hand run 
 daily at various hours between Bowness and Keswick, through Win- 
 dermere, Grasmere, Ambleside, Rydal, and other villages, while 
 side excursions can be made in the same way to Buttermere, to see 
 how the waters come down from Lodore, and to other points of 
 interest. Heavy shoes, loose, easy flannel sack coat and trousers, and 
 an equally simple rig for the ladies, does for the most of the time, 
 or a tennis suit, if you play, will answer, and no criticism will be 
 passed upon you by any one, You come to rest, and you get what 
 you come for. 
 
 The architecture of these islands might be greatly improved by 
 some of our American architects. Its prevailing characteristic is 
 heaviness and coldness. These elegant lawns and charming nooks 
 and sightly knolls offer a premium for a tasteful, bright, cheery 
 house. But they are not met with. Now and then some one 
 breaks rank as far as he dares, and the change is welcome to an 
 American accustomed to the prettiest cottages and mansions in the 
 world. In Edinburgh, for example, the sensation is that of walking 
 in a chilly corridor. The streets are paved with stone blocks, 
 the sidewalks are stone, the front porches are stone, the walls 
 are stone, and all of one color, from the center of the street 
 to the top of the house. The doors are massive and cold, and 
 dignified with their polished brass knockers and plates ; there 
 is nothing to warm them up. Here and there a red curtain over 
 the front door, in place of the usual plaster figure, and red cur- 
 tains at the window impart warmth, so that one draws near to such 
 a house instinctively. Here in this charming district, which by 
 its very character calls for pretty girls with white dresses and 
 colored sashes, with all that beautiful variety of cottage that can 
 be found on the New Jersey coast or in California, the houses are 
 all stone, slatestone at that, of all uneven widths, laid up in mortar, 
 but the mortar is so far in as not to appear to the casual observer, 
 giving an appearance of haste and instability, like a stone fence 
 about a sheep pasture. 
 
 In fact, take it all through, we think America a good place to live, 
 while enjoying the old countries for a time. Said a well-traveled 
 7 
 
66 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 Englishman on a coach to us: "You do make awfully good cakes 
 in America." " What kind ?" was the reply. " Oh ! five or six kinds ; 
 I could eat a whole one now." " And," he went on to say, " you 
 do have a great many handsome women in America." We assented, 
 of course, and thought more than we cared to express. The deli- 
 cacy, refinement, and general attractiveness of our American ladies 
 are not easily duplicated in any land we have gone through. 
 
 Hotel registers begin to show more of the names of delegates to 
 the Pan Presbyterian Council as we get nearer to the great city 
 where the meeting is to be held that called us over. We hope to 
 be as diligent in the hard work upon us there as in filling in this 
 enforced period of waiting. After that is over we shall hasten home 
 via Bremen, passing through the great and attractive cities on the 
 way. The good ship Eider will carry us safely through, we trust. 
 
 FRANCIS A. HORTON. 
 
 LETTER XII. 
 
 LONDON, July n, 1888. 
 
 How shall I write to you about the great Pan Presbyterian 
 Council? Shall I give you the actual facts and be regarded possibly 
 as boasting, or shall I suppress them and go roundabout the sub- 
 jects, giving incidents and impressions, thus feeding you with the 
 manna that falls round about the camp? I cannot believe that you 
 desire less than the facts, and I can easily believe that all will rejoice 
 with us in the mighty power and wide reach that we have secured 
 among the nations of the earth for the cause of truth and righteous- 
 ness. I had no idea of the state of the case myself, and I am sure 
 that others less intimately associated with our faith and order will be 
 even more surprised than I. 
 
 With indefatigable labor Rev. G. D. Matthews, D.D., of Quebec, 
 Canada, convener of the Committee on Statistics for the Council, 
 has collected and arranged a mass of facts and figures, filling 300 
 printed pages. These are reliable data on Presbyterian matters, 
 and the only full and orderly compilation extant. Of course, there- 
 fore, it is an exceedingly valuable book to any man interested in 
 statistics, and can be procured by addressing him as above and 
 
A PASTOftAL JOURNEY. 67 
 
 Remitting one shilling i. e., twenty-four cents and about six cents 
 more for postage. Speaking by this book, as well as by the roll of 
 this present council, which we have heard called and responded to 
 by the living delegates, there are representatives of twenty-six 
 organized church bodies holding the Presbyterian system on the 
 European continent. These comprise 383 presbyteries or classes, 
 with 4,844 pastoral charges and over 470,000 communicants. The 
 wide diffusion is quite remarkable, and to me was a genuine surprise. 
 They are found in Austria, Bohemia, Moravia, Hungary, Belgium, 
 France, Germany, Hanover, Greece, Italy, the Netherlands, Fries- 
 land, Poland, Lithuania, Spain, and Switzerland. 
 
 Passing to the United Kingdom, we have twelve organized bodies, 
 giving a total of presbyteries in the British churches in England, 
 Ireland, Scotland, and Wales of 292, with over 5,000 pastoral 
 charges arid more than 1,250,000 communicants. Passing to Asia, 
 we have three organized bodies in Persia, Japan, and Ceylon, 
 having ten presbyteries, 126 pastoral charges and over 10,000 com- 
 municants. Passing to Africa, we have eight organized bodies, with 
 sixteen presbyteries, 223 pastoral charges and over 54,000 commu- 
 nicants. Passing to America, we call the roll of eighteen organized 
 bodies with 653 presbyteries or classes, 14,893 pastoral charges, and 
 1,562,000 communicants. These are all in Canada and the United 
 States. Passing on to Australia we enumerate eight organized 
 bodies with forty presbyteries, 1,142 separate congregations, and 
 31,639 communicants. Passing on to New Zealand we have two 
 organized bodies, with thirteen presbyteries, 481 separate congrega- 
 tions, and 18,622 communicants. Passing on to the West Indies 
 we have one organized body, the Presbyterian Church of Jamaica, 
 with four presbyteries, forty-six pastoral charges and 8,977 commu- 
 nicants. To sum it up we enroll 78 organized bodies, with 1,392 
 presbyteries, 25,689 pastoral charges, 27,996 separate congregations, 
 3,448,225 communicants, and 2,879,721 Sunday school attendance. 
 
 It will be noticed that, take the world around, the number of 
 communicants is in excess of the number of Sunday school attend- 
 ants by over half a million. In the American churches the com- 
 municants are 1,562,000, and the Sunday school attendance is 
 1,446,390. It will be interesting to know whether this fact holds 
 true in the case of each of the other bodies, and it will be profitable 
 to discuss the question whether this is giving a good account of all 
 
63 A PASTORAL 
 
 the children in our land. In addition to these organized bodies 
 there is a very long roll of what are called the Diaspora, or dis- 
 persed churches. We have been so much under the harrow of 
 persecution that the seed has been scattered and covered under in 
 many of the out of the way places of the earth. In all the lands 
 named, and in almost every land that can be named, are separate 
 congregations of Presbyterians provided with place of worship and 
 pastor. Hundreds of such have reported to the Alliance, which is 
 the only body with which they have any connection, and through 
 which they will be brought into the closest sympathy and co- 
 operation with the great body. The final estimate of the numbers 
 of our order on the face of the earth is above 4,000,000 of com- 
 municants, and not less than 20,000,000 of adherents. 
 
 To sit in council with brethren thus gathered together from the 
 ends of the earth, to look into their faces and note the strong 
 national traits; to hear them speak, either in their own tongues or 
 in broken English, and utter the same sentiments and declare the 
 same experiences common to Presbyterians everywhere, is like the 
 sitting down in our Father's kingdom, where all who love the Lord 
 Jesus in sincerity, from every land and of every name, shall come 
 home, the organized bodies and the men and women of the disper- 
 sion who, for various reasons, have not joined any church body, 
 but are for all that the Master's; all declaring one great love to Him 
 who loved and died for all. Here it is the man speaking and the 
 sentiments expressed that are considered, with not one thought of 
 what end of the earth he comes from, nor with what body he stands 
 connected. How like that which is in store for us by and by. 
 
 I knew, of course, that wherever our church goes she fosters 
 education, but the array of our literary institutions upon earth is 
 imposing beyond my expectation. Pass our colleges and literary 
 schools and note particularly the list of theological seminaries. 
 Beginning with Austria we have the Imperial Royal Evangelical 
 Theological Faculty in the University of Vienna, consisting of six 
 professors maintained by the State. In Hungary we have the 
 College at Saros Patak, with seven professors, who claim to lead in 
 all free inquiry and liberal ideas ; the College of Debreczen, dating 
 back to the Reformation, having 725 students and ten professors in 
 the theological faculty ; the College of Nagy-Enyed with six theo- 
 logical professors ; the Academy of Papa with six theological pro- 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 69 
 
 fessors; and the Academy of Buda-Pesth with the same number of 
 men in the theological faculty. Well done for Hungary. In France 
 we have "the Faculty of Protestant Theology" in the University 
 of France, the nine professors of which are appointed by the State 
 on nomination by the reformed churches ; also we have the theo- 
 logical faculty of the Academy of Toulouse. In Germany we have 
 one chair in the Kaiser William University, Strasburg. In the 
 Netherlands we have two professors always in the University of 
 Leyden, in which faculty is also the celebrated Kuenen, one of the 
 foremost critics of the rationalistic school. Professors Goozen and 
 Offerhaus are the present appointees of the Dutch Reformed 
 Church. Also in the University of Groningen we have two theo- 
 logical chairs, and all the faculty have perfect liberty of teaching. 
 In the University of Amsterdam we have two chairs in the theo- 
 logical faculty. The Free University of Amsterdam is ours exclu- 
 sively, being a protest against the infidelity that appears in the 
 National Universities. In 1854 was founded the theological school at 
 Kampen, which has now eighty-one students in attendance. In Italy 
 the Waldensian Church comes out of the fires of its terrible persecu- 
 tions, which were never able to bring it into connection with Rome. 
 Presbyterian always, from the apostles down, with its theological 
 seminary which in 1860 was removed from Torrepellice to Florence 
 and the Free Church has its Theological Hall at Rome, of which 
 grand old Father Gavazzi is head.* Many of your readers will 
 remember him, as he has spoken in our churches. In Spain the 
 Reformed Church has its theological college at Cadiz under charge 
 of the Presbytery of Andalusia. In Switzerland, at the Universities 
 of Bale, Zurich, and Berne, in addition to the ordinary theological 
 faculty, are in each case a number of what are called private 
 docente, each of whom is a member of the Reformed Church. 
 The Free Church has at Lansanue a theological faculty of three 
 professors with J. Frederic Astie at the head, and at Neuchatel the 
 Evangelical and Free Church ; each has a theological seminary. 
 So also at Geneva, each of these churches has its school of theology. 
 In England there is but one, on Guilford street, London. In 
 Ireland there are three, two at Belfast and Magee College at Lon- 
 donderry. In Scotland there are nine of the Established Church : 
 St. Andrew's, Glasgow University, Aberdeen University, and Edin- 
 
 * Father Gavazzi has recently died. 
 
"?6 A PASTOKAL JOURNEY. 
 
 burgh University ; of the Free Church : New College, Edinburgh ; 
 Free College, Aberdeen ; and Free College, Glasgow ; of the United 
 Presbyterian Church : Theological Hall, Edinburgh ; and of the 
 Secession Church, Divinity Hall, Glasgow. In South Wales is 
 Trevecca College. In dark Africa we have a theological Seminary 
 at Cairo, with three professors and fifty-six students ; also one at 
 Stellenbosch, Cape Colony; and another at Burghersdorp, Cape 
 Colony. In America we have of the Northern Church, Princeton, 
 Auburn, Alleghany, Lane at Cincinnati, Union at New York, Dan- 
 ville in Kentucky, McCormick at Chicago, San Francisco, German 
 at Dubuque, German at Newark, N. J., Lincoln University, Pa., and 
 Biddle University, N. C. The Southern Church has Union at 
 Hampden, Sidney, Va., Columbia, S. C., Austin, Tex., and Tusca- 
 loosa, Ala. The Reformed Church has New Brunswick, N. J., and 
 Hope College, Mich. The .Reformed Church in America has 
 Grand Rapids, Mich.; the German Reformed has Lancaster, Pa., 
 Heidelberg at Tiffin, O , Ursinus at Collegeville, Pa., and Sheboy- 
 gan, Wis. The United Presbyterians have Xenia, O , Newburg, N. 
 Y., and Alleghany, Pa. The Associate Reformed has Due West, 
 S. C. The Reformed Presbyterian has one at Philadelphia, Pa., 
 and the Cumberland Church one at Lebanon, Tenn. Canada 
 shows us Queens at Kingston, Ont., Knox at Toronto, Halifax, 
 Morvin at Quebec, Montreal, and Manitoba at Winnipeg. In 
 Australia we find St. Andrews at Sydney, Ormond at Melbourne, 
 Divinity Hall, Brisbane, and Union in South Australia. In far off 
 New Zealand we find the University of New Zealand and the 
 College of Dunedin. In the West Indies the seminary at Kings- 
 ton, Ja. In Asia we have the theological school at Beirout. In 
 Persia the Seminary of Oroomiah, and others like these two last on 
 mission fields to the number of thirty additional, which I will not 
 weary you by naming. 
 
 To sum up all we have scattered over the world, eighty-seven 
 theological seminaries with 347 professors, 3,624 students, and 892,- 
 657 volumes in their libraries. Surely all will rejoice with us that 
 we belt the round globe with schools of investigation into truth, 
 raising up men to defend and proclaim the faith once delivered to 
 the saints. Coming up from all these different and widely separated 
 centers where they have pursued their independent studies, there is 
 much of divergence of view on many points. There is many a 
 
A PASTORAL JOUKNEY. 71 
 
 grapple and tug, but in and through all there is one ring and accent 
 that proclaims the family to which all alike belong. 
 
 I shall not* weary you with extending statistics, but shall do my 
 subject injustice in the sight of all Christian workers if I do not 
 give a few hints at what this vast body is doing. In point of money 
 contributed for purely religious work within denominational bounds, 
 the figures will not fall under $10,000,000 for the last year. The 
 various Woman's Boards of Missions alone gave over ^"100,000. 
 In the field of foreign mission we are sustaining 521 foreign and 
 349 native ordained ministers, with 281 licentiates; and other 
 agents, 575 foreign and 3,702 native a total for the Presbyterian 
 Church of the world of 5,248 persons. The adherents on mission 
 fields to our churches are 284,146, all baptized, of whom 56,419 
 are communicants, about as many as the population of Oakland. 
 We have also on these fields 1,728 boarding and day schools, with 
 84,752 scholars under instruction. The purely denominational 
 religious papers and periodicals of the church number 284. But 
 enough in the department of statistics. In the matter of woman's 
 work, it is enough to say that among the many organizations named 
 none makes a better showing nor receives more commendations 
 than our own Occidental Board of the Pacific Coast. 
 
 This, in short, is the body lying back of this council, and now 
 the appropriateness of the name assumed by it is clearly seen, 
 viz. : The Alliance of Reformed Churches Throughout the World 
 Holding the Presbyterian System. Now also its character is 
 clearly seen. It is merely an alliance, with no power except to con- 
 fer together on vital questions that concern the church and the 
 common faith. In debate the utmost freedom is allowed, the most 
 advanced ideas being presented, and when printed are understood 
 to be individual opinions, the alliance not being committed thereto. 
 The Christian religion has nothing to fear from the unfolding of 
 truth, and the Presbyterian Church is in the front ranks of those 
 who search for the truth in every open field. The comparison of 
 notes upon methods of work is also of great value, especially to 
 those who are in a large measure isolated, and to those who live in 
 lands that are not so forward and active in all these matters. It 
 also tends to repress too great activity where by surroundings men 
 have been led on to ultra and, upon the whole, exceptional prac- 
 tices. Scotland is a balance wheel upon America and America is a 
 
72 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 stimulant for Scotland. Also measures of great moment can be 
 carried by this concerted action, e. g., co-operation in foreign mis- 
 sion fields has received an impetus in this council that will impel all 
 Presbyterian churches far in that most desirable direction. When 
 the bodies are thus eye to eye suggesting, amending, asking and 
 replying, proposing and discussing, the ends desired are furthered 
 rapidly. 
 
 This is the body, and for such purposes assembled, that is now 
 holding its closing sessions in this city. I will not pretend to call 
 the roll of the great and well-known names in church and state, in 
 the pulpit and in the sanctum, who sit daily here in conference. 
 But to see the men I long have known by reputation, to talk with 
 them, to hear them speak on vital questions, is one of the events of 
 my life. It will be of lasting benefit to me personally, and to my work 
 in its further prosecution. I only wish that all of my friends might 
 enjoy the feast with us. In my next letter, which will probably be my 
 last, unless I find something in the celebration of the Fourth of 
 July in Paris, or in the sewers of that beautiful city, to write about, 
 I will give you a running account of events from day to day. In 
 this I have aimed to make you acquainted with the body itself that 
 stands at the head of world-wide Presbyterianism. 
 
 It was my honor on last Sabbath to be selected to preach for the 
 people of London's most celebrated man of our order, Rev. Donald 
 Fraser, author and pulpit orator. He is a tall, slender man, with a 
 mass of snow white hair covering his head and with white side 
 whiskers. In action he is dramatic, in language he is limpid and 
 forcible. The hem and the haw and the drawl of ordinary British 
 oratory disappear in him as in Gladstone. His church is plain 
 without, but quite beautiful within. The pulpit is high and white, 
 with staircase in the rear by which it is entered; which done, a 
 church officer draws a red plush curtain behind the preacher and he 
 finds himself nearly on a level with the gallery. Of course, I wore 
 the plain black Genevan gown to which the Presbyterian Church 
 in the older countries and in many parts of America has always 
 adhered. It was a great mistake for any to depart from the custom, 
 for several reasons, which we will not stop to mention. 
 
 Coming down at the close of the service, who should appear 
 before me but Trustee Dalziel of my church, of the firm of Dalziel 
 & Moller, Oakland, California. It seemed like a breath from Cali- 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 73 
 
 fornia. Then came Miss Haight, also of my church, who has been 
 on this side of the ocean for about a year. Wherever we go we find 
 Californians. Also we find enthusiastic friends of California. Last 
 night we dined at Hampstead, London's most beautiful quarter, 
 with Mr. Edwards, who visited us last year, in company with Rev. 
 John Dunlap and Rev. Mr. Matthews, in the interest of Christian 
 work among the Jews. He is brim full yet of the visit, is booming 
 California, and like all others who have ever undertaken to say 
 much about it, is not believed. He says that he only wants a 
 reasonable excuse for so doing, when he shall at once repeat his visit. 
 During a walk of three miles around Hampstead heath, -looking 
 from those heights down upon London, lying on all sides as far and 
 farther than we could see, with St. Paul's looming up above every- 
 thing, and revealing its greatness as it does not from a nearer view, 
 he talked America in all the intervals of local description. Miss 
 Josie Simon is here with her mother, cultivating her wonderful 
 voice. She has sent me her card, and I hope to call upon them 
 before leaving for home via Paris and Bremen. 
 
 FRANCIS A. HORTON. 
 
 LETTER XIII. 
 
 LONDON, July 12, 1888. 
 
 At eleven o'clock on Thursday morning, July 3d, the fourth 
 meeting of the Alliance Pan Presbyterian was called to order in 
 Regent Square Church, this city. The first council was held at 
 Edinburgh, at which the late Rev. Dr. Eells, then pastor of the First 
 Presbyterian Church of Oakland, was present as a delegate. Four 
 years later the second council was held at Philadelphia, Pennsyl- 
 vania. Four years later the third council was held at Belfast, 
 when Rev. Dr. Sprecher of Calvary Church, San Francisco, for- 
 merly of Oakland, was the Pacific coast delegate. This year it 
 is in London, and the First Church of Oakland is again in 
 honor, having for the third time a pastor in representation. Four 
 years hence the council will be held in Toronto, Canada. One 
 other church came under my notice that had three pastors present 
 in this one council ; that was the First Reformed Dutch Church of 
 8 
 
- A PASTO11AL JOUENEY. 
 
 Catskill, New York, Rev. Dr. Welch, professor in Auburn Semi- 
 nary, your correspondent, and Rev. Dr. Van Slyke, the present 
 incumbent. 
 
 Regent Square Church is memorable as being formerly in 
 charge of the late Edward Irving, who went out from us and 
 founded the order of Irvingites, named for him. Those whom I 
 have met of his followers are men and women of pure life and 
 noble purpose. While not accepting his doctrines, we raise no ques- 
 tion as to his motives and s,)eak a good word for his followers. 
 
 The devotional part of the services was led by ex-Moderator 
 Smith of the Northern Church of the United States, the small, 
 cramped pulpit admitting of but one occupant at a time. When he 
 came down, the pastor of the church, Rev. J. Oswald Dykes, who 
 is also at the head of the Presbyterian College of London, went up 
 and preached the opening sermon. Principal Dykes is a compara- 
 tively young man, of stalwart frame, with a clear mind and choice 
 use of language. The sermon was not in the least bigoted, but 
 broad, charitable, yet laying again the grand principles which, from 
 the Reformation onward, have borne the weight of the reformed 
 churches. This over, the concluding prayer was offered by Rev. 
 Dr. Monod of Paris, whose English is very pure, and whose pres- 
 ence on the rostrum all through the council was a signal for 
 applause. He is a small man with dark complexion, deep set black 
 eyes, long, jet black hair, a lock of which persists in falling into his 
 right eye. He has a great soul, and it is all on fire with the work 
 he has in hand for the Master. Then Dr. Dykes constituted the 
 council formally with prayer, in which he remembered the heads of 
 the various lands represented Queen Victoria first and President 
 Cleveland next. 
 
 Then came the roll-call of the three hundred delegates. Every 
 ear and eye of the vast audience was at its best to catch the name 
 and to recognize the man it represented. To aid in this the delegates 
 were requested both to respond and to rise in their places. It seemed 
 like an echo from the last great roll call of the future, and I fancied 
 this eagerness to see men of whom we had long heard and by whose 
 books and writings we have been instructed in many things, was not 
 unlike the interest you and I will take in detecting Moses and Paul, 
 Luther and Knox, Wesley and Whitefield, and many others on that 
 great day of assembling. The usual custom was followed of hav- 
 
A PASTORAL JOURXEY. 75 
 
 ing a new presiding officer at each session, and the aged Rev. Dr. 
 Cairns was placed first in the chair. He is admitted to carry as 
 much of the brain of Scotland as any other man now living. He 
 is very large and has white hair and beard and is of commanding 
 appearance. The organization completed and the hour of adjourn- 
 ment having arrived the evening session was omitted in order to 
 enable the delegates to attend a reception tendered to them at 
 Argyle Lodge, Campden Hill, the town residence of the Duke, the 
 MacCallum More. This was the first of a series in which the Lon- 
 don Presbyterians endeavored to equal the hospitality of the cities 
 that had previously entertained the council. 
 
 Manifest difficulties were in their way, growing out of the immense 
 London distances scattering widely the members of the churches, 
 but, despite all, they succeeded in doing admirably, beginning with 
 this reception by the Duke of Argyle and ending with one by the 
 Earl and Countess of Aberdeen. I may as well speak of them all 
 in a lump and not refer to them again. A long underground ride 
 brought us to the station, a short walk brought us to the lodge, 
 where we were received by Lord Balfour of Burleigh, the duke 
 being detained at the Lord's by an important debate that was on. 
 The beautiful lawns were at the disposal of the guests in one place 
 a large tent for speaking, and on either side of it two smaller tents 
 with refreshments. A band furnished music of one kind and a 
 company of pipers music of another sort. The last was the more 
 unusual and therefore most interesting, albeit their music was good. 
 Speeches in due time were made by men from Canada, United 
 States, England, Ireland, France, and Hungary. Dr. Lynd spoke 
 for Ireland in a very witty address, claiming for Ireland every good 
 thing that has gone out into the world. Evidently the blarney stone 
 has spread its influence to the far north in the Emerald Isle. The 
 refreshments were ample and excellent, the young ladies behind the 
 tables doing the honors wore uniform apparel and looked very 
 pretty. The only drawback, at least to us who do mind such 
 things, was the fitful rain, pouring madly at one moment and the 
 sun smiling the next, as though to see how much of this we could 
 stand and not get out of humor. For three days the entire body 
 of delegates and some of their elect ladies were lunched at the New 
 Holborn restaurant in fine style after the morning session, which 
 ended at three o'clock. This was an expensive piece of entertain- 
 
76 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 ment. Then on Saturday two excursions were planned, one to 
 Cambridge University and one to Hampton Court and Kew Gar- 
 dens, the choice being given. 
 
 We chose Hampton and Kew, and with a train load visited 
 those interesting places, under guidance of a gentleman thoroughly 
 informed in all the details of history centering in the former. In 
 the grand hall he. gave us a short lecture on the conferences held by 
 James I, upon taking the throne, with the clergy and the puritans, 
 each party hoping to gain his support. Old history becomes new 
 when told in the very rooms whose walls witnessed and heard the 
 facts narrated. After a long look through the gallaries and paint- 
 ings and tapestry, and a walk through the beautiful grounds, we sat 
 down to a superb luncheon in a tent in Bushy Park. This over, we 
 took a most romantic walk to Teddington, about one mile, through 
 an avenue of horse chestnuts. The trees are old and large. They 
 stand twenty-five feet apart each way, and are seven rows deep on 
 either side of the roadway. The gentleman in charge said that 
 when they were in full blossom it was one of the sights of England, 
 as we could well understand. The Cambridge party spoke enthusi- 
 astically of their trip and reception. 
 
 On Monday, in the recess, the principal librarian and keepers of 
 the British Museum received the delegates at eleven o'clock and 
 conducted them through that famous building, especially exhibiting 
 the original records of the Westminster Assembly. On Wednesday 
 at four o'clock, Dean Bradley of Westminster Abbey received 
 the delegates in the Nave and conducted them into the famous 
 Jerusalem chambers, where the work of revising the scriptures was 
 carried on. Lord Balfour took a party of fifty over the House of 
 Lords. Admission was also furnished to the Commons. This is 
 not so easily obtained now as before the attempts at destruction by 
 dynamite there and in the Tower. An omnibus ride to Bunhill 
 Fields was also offered. There lie the remains of John Bunyan and 
 De Foe, uhose writings are household words. The Bible Society 
 gave a reception also, and the Tract Society made a present to each 
 delegate of the bound volumes of their works. Thus the endeavor 
 was made to show hospitality equal to the best, and we think the 
 effort was crowned with success. 
 
 The second day the council met in Exeter Hall, where the 
 sessions were held to the end. The lower hall was occupied, but in 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 77 
 
 a very short time the meeting was crowded out into the great hall 
 above, where it continued. A fine attendance of visitors was main- 
 tained throughout in the day, while the evening sessions, of a more 
 popular character, were densely thronged. Stretched across the 
 end of the building, completely covering the great organ, still hung 
 the map of the world in use by the missionary conference, whose 
 meetings have but just now ended. By the by, it is a singular com- 
 ment on the fact that journals closely follow the trend of public 
 demand in the matter of news, that although I have not been out 
 of the British Isles during the sittings of that body, I have not been 
 able to find ten lines of news from it, while reading the papers 
 daily. You know in America, west end, ten times as much as I do 
 here in England of what happened there. I am told that certain 
 papers made a specialty of the conference, but I did not get hold of 
 them ; and Dr. Ellingwood remarked in the closing meeting that it 
 was singular that so much space could be given to a horse race or 
 to a reception and none to the great matters of sending the gospel 
 to the ends of the earth. 
 
 The papers presented and subjects discussed covered a wide 
 range of questions that are considered vital as well as those of a 
 practical nature. The great points reached after in all were truth 
 and efficiency, truth as the solid foundation and efficiency in appli- 
 cation. The first day's discussions were devoted to the practical 
 working of the eldership and to church worship. In the latter case 
 the methods in vogue in our western world were soundly condemned 
 in general principle. In making the application for myself I cer- 
 tainly could not defend some of the western methods, either from 
 scripture or from the fruit they bear in actual experience. The 
 next day was devoted to intellectual difficulties and scientific hin- 
 derances to faith, and how to deal with them most effectively. This 
 was a warm day inside, as may be supposed. In smooth language, 
 and with gentle intonation, papers were read that set all to thinking 
 most profoundly, and some to raising objections and offering criti- 
 cisms. Very advanced ideas were set forth and received kindly, 
 and shot through and through by those who did not agree, and all was 
 smiling and peaceful. It was the playing of lions, one could easily 
 reason to their more determined struggles. Then came co-opera- 
 tion on foreign mission fields with testimony from missionaries from 
 all parts of the world as to the evils of having so many bodies rep- 
 
78 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 resented there. The entire sentiment was in favor of co-operation, 
 and the council has advanced that idea very much by its action. 
 
 Woman's work in all its phases was discussed, with many a good 
 word for these most faithful upholders of the Master's interests. 
 Professor Charteris, of Edinburgh, opened it with a paper that was 
 criticised much as to its exegesis of scripture touching the place of 
 women in the public services of the church. The council heartily 
 indorsed their work, and bade them God speed. All agreed that it 
 marked the beginning of a new era in the church's aggressive work. 
 Much attention was given to the Colonial and European churches, 
 in which department lie many of those feeble ones whom this 
 alliance is intended to benefit. They were made to feel that they 
 were not by any means alone and without sympathy. 
 
 A very rich day was that given to the young. The children hold 
 a very warm place in our hearts, a fact that was evidenced by the 
 full attendance all day. It was my honor to have the main place in 
 opening the subject in an address upon " More Advanced Ideas in 
 America Upon Sunday School Matters." The appointment fell to 
 me in the absence of Dr. Worden. The statement of our ideas 
 and practices awakened great interest, and called for private inquiry 
 afterwards on points. The council was not ready to accept all we 
 think and do, but gladly made note of them for further considera- 
 tion. Thus the seed is sown, and in far away lands it will bear 
 fruit of which neither you nor I may ever hear. The grand thing 
 is to have good methods, and then tell them out, because you know 
 that they are good. The evening was filled up on these same topics 
 by such men as Dr. Holmes, of Albany, New York; Dr. Hall, of 
 New York, and Rev. Mr. Neil, the Spurgeon of Scotland, as he is 
 called. Thus in a rough and hasty way I have given to you a 
 nibble from the great feast. 
 
 The organization of the Alliance is more fully perfected by 
 creating the office of chief secretary, at a salary of $2,500 per 
 annum, and an American secretary without compensation. The 
 first is to have no other occupation, and is to reside in Great Britain. 
 Rev. Dr. Matthews, of Quebec, was elected chief secretary, and will 
 remove to London on the first of October, at which time his salary 
 will begin. Rev. Dr. Roberts, of Cincinnati, was chosen the Ameri- 
 can assistant. He will be invaluable to the American churches. 
 This Alliance has, through the ignorance of the secretaries as to the 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 79 
 
 caliber and fitness of the Americans, been largely Scotch in its 
 papers and reports. No man can better correct this than the 
 assistant secretary chosen, who is the stated clerk of the General 
 Assembly of the Northern Church. 
 
 The Alliance gave very distinct utterance to the sentiments of the 
 church on the question of the introduction of liquor into the Pacific 
 Islands. Earl Granville states that in response to an official propo- 
 sition that the various governments interested should join to prevent 
 the selling of liquor and gunpowder, he had received favorable 
 word from all but two, and one of these was the United States. It 
 was a stinging rebuke to the American delegates, and made us blush 
 for our nation. The quality of some of the liquor sold in the 
 Congo Free States is such that it is in testimony by naturalists that 
 it destroys instead of preserving natural history specimens. On all 
 such questions the foremost nation should be on the right side, and 
 we hope soon to see America there. 
 
 In its sessions the council made repeated mention in prayer of 
 the great Pan Angelican Council of Bishops now in session in Lam- 
 beth Palace, seat of the Archbishop of Canterbury. A resolution 
 was passed conveying to them formally our Christian regards and 
 salutations. The great bodies of the religious world are drawing 
 closer together. Some in cold disdain prefer as yet to stand aloof, 
 but it is rapidly getting chilly out there. The evening of rank 
 denominationalism is falling, and all will come in out of the damp 
 and cold by and by, if not in organic union at least in effective co- 
 operation. To this end the Alliance of Presbyterian Churches is 
 ever progressing, both between the scattered members of her own 
 family and between herself and all familes of those who hold the 
 true evangelical faith of the ever-living Word of God. 
 
 FRANCIS A. HORTON. 
 
80 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 LETTER XIV. 
 
 GENEVA, July 20, 1888. 
 
 I wish to speak a good word for Scarborough, up in Yorkshire, 
 England. I hurried you down to London, and my conscience has 
 accused me ever since of having slighted a friend. This I never 
 do ; friendship is a sacred word with me, and the thing itself once 
 killed is like the slaying of a person the precious life is gone for- 
 ever, beyond possibility of restoration. So to square up things with 
 Scarborough I will tarry long enough to say that the people of York- 
 shire may murder their h's to the amusement of the world, they 
 may have a dialect of their own that needs interpretation to out- 
 siders, but so long as they have York Minster for architecture, and 
 Scarborough for seaside resort, they may-hold up their heads and' 
 expose their big, red, masculine faces to the gaze of the world with- 
 out a blush. As Oliver Wendell Holmes prettily puts it in another 
 connection, nature has been " throwing her red roses against their 
 faces" so long that perhaps a blush might exist inwardly, yet find 
 no place to appear outwardly. But up there on the coast of the 
 North sea, just across from Holland, is one of nature's gems, and 
 appreciative man has polished it into a thing of beauty. A deep 
 bay, with coast line curving inward for many a league, then sweep- 
 ing outward again ; a high bluff, not less than five hundred feet 
 above the sea, sloping down to right, to left, and gently falling 
 toward the sea, with park upon the seaward declivity with paths 
 winding down ; a lovely beach covered with children playing in the 
 sand, with dogs running madly into the breakers and out again, 
 with ponies and donkeys saddled and ready for the mount, with 
 bathing cars, with boats in endless variety and number almost, 
 manned by weather-beaten seamen, whose visages bespeak knowl- 
 edge of the sea and inspire the terra firma heart with confidence ; a 
 grand pavilion, with seats for hundreds, and a band discoursing 
 sweetest music, a city embowered in trees, with shady walks on 
 every hand, with deep glens ornamented in high art, with waterfall, 
 and pond, and swimming ducks, and swans, bright vehicles and 
 pleasing occupants, good hotels and comfortable lodgings such is 
 the panorama that will long roll and unroll itself before my mind 
 as I think of Scarborough. Brighton is larger and more widely 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 81 
 
 known, more expensive and fashionable, but to me it can never 
 compare with the little cove in Yorkshire. 
 
 Speaking of dialect, I am reminded of a man and wife, most 
 agreeable and pleasing to recall, with whom we traveled for some 
 miles. She remarked that the Queen "was a decent woman." See- 
 ing that we regarded that sage observation as a doubtful compli- 
 ment, she explained by saying, "In Yorkshire 'decent' means a 
 great deal. When you want to say the best you can of a person 
 just call him 'decent.'" After winding about in York, which is as 
 interesting itself to me as is the Minster, turning in and out of the 
 narrow streets as fancy moved us, shopping here and pricing there, 
 we found that our time had got away from us, and that we needed 
 to make haste to get away after it. So I asked a citizen to show me 
 a short cut out. He said, "Just go into yon snicket and push 
 through." "Yon what?" said I. "Yon snicket where you see the 
 open door." So we went to hunt the snicket, passed through an 
 opening in the wall the size of an ordinary door, and found our- 
 elves hemmed in between buildings so close together that in places 
 we could touch them on both sides at once by extending the arms. It 
 wound this way and that way, and all along were tenement houses with 
 front doors opening upon the snicket, so that a sense of intrusion 
 upon privacy naturally quickened our steps and suppressed our 
 merriment at the strange adventure and experience. But in true 
 Boston style the short cut put us out just where we wanted to be, and 
 saved us many a step on crowded streets. I am not an expert 
 philologist, but wife and I concluded that snicket must be a corrup- 
 tion of "sneak out." 
 
 The old Minster is getting to be more and more a burden of 
 expense. In many places the stone is chipping off, and if one 
 applies an unsanctified hand to the severed relic of a past age at 
 such a place the sand will- be found to have little cohesion, crumb- 
 ling easily away under the pressure. I wonder, as I look about, 
 whether stone ever gets the dry rot, and whether there may not 
 come a day when in spite of care and expense these venerable old 
 piles will come down. It seems as though the only positive assur- 
 ance to the contrary is actual rebuilding stone by stone as weakness 
 appears. 
 
 Now having done my duty to Yorkshire I shall bring you over 
 the channel with me, remarking that your passage, on paper, will be 
 9 
 
82 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 no more free from sea-sickness than was mine, and no less so. The 
 morning was beautiful, and the sea was tired out with a terrible 
 storm that had been raging for several days. So while it was rest- 
 ing and getting ready to do up some more voyagers, we slipped over 
 in peace and quiet. 
 
 Looking back upon Paris from this mountain city on the banks 
 of the bluish, greenish Rhone and the lovely lake that takes its 
 name, I wish to speak a good word for our hostess in that city, 
 which will be a good word also to any who may make a note 
 of it for future use. To many persons hotel life is unpleasant. I 
 sicken of it very soon. To others the expense is an item of much 
 importance. It always has been and probably always will be to me. 
 So the great mass of people like a hint here and there of a better 
 and a less costly way of getting on. For their sakes and to possess 
 their gratitude I mention my dear Madame Riston, 80 Avenue 
 Kleber, whose house is a home and an hotel combined, whose 
 kindness and thoughtfulness are unceasing and wonderfully agree- 
 able in a strange city, in a foreign land. You take to her at once, 
 and keep on taking to her until you leave, and then want all in 
 whom you have any interest to take to her, too. For a score of 
 years she kept a young ladies' boarding school in New York, and so 
 is thoroughly acquainted with our ways,' wherefore her house is very 
 popular with Americans. It contains some twenty-five rooms, so 
 there is almost always a possibility of being accommodated if notice 
 is given befo ehand. Her terms are ten francs per day, including 
 early and late breakfast and evening dinner, with room and attend- 
 ance of course. Avenue Kleber is one of the twelve streets radiat- 
 ing from the Arc de Triomph, forming the "star." It is broad and 
 beautiful. No. 80 is about midway between the Arc and the Tro- 
 cadero, not more than ten minutes' walk from either. Any one who 
 knows Paris will say that this is one of its very best quarters. And 
 as the exposition next year will center in the Trocadero and in the 
 Champs de Mars, the two being connected by a bridge across the 
 Seine, number 80 will have special value. 
 
 "You may take all the musty old castles and tumble down 
 churches and the like and I will take Paris," said my other self as 
 we were walking leisurely down one of the gorgeous streets in the 
 cool of the day. First, a broad sidewalk lined inside the curb with 
 a row of beautiful shade trees, then a wide, smoothly paved road- 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 83 
 
 way extending to a second curbing, then another row of trees, then 
 a wide, graveled walk and a third row of trees, then an equestrian 
 way and a fourth row of trees, then a second paved roadway and a 
 fifth row of trees, and finally a second sidewalk, while over the 
 fences on both sides gardens with shrubbery separate the houses 
 from the avenue. No doubt Paris is the most beautiful city in the 
 world. It has, however, two sides cleanest and dirtiest, attractive 
 and repulsive both sets of description belong to it. The transient 
 visitor endeavors, as far as may be, to overlook the latter, and the 
 native is so accustomed to them that he never thinks ot them. So 
 all think and speak of its beauties and charms, and there is no end 
 to the theme. Her galleries are studded with gems. One Madonna 
 in the Luxembourg, with a dead boy at her feet and its weeping 
 mother kneeling beside her with elbows in her lap and hands over 
 her face, while the Madonna's eyes are raised heavenward, is a won- 
 derful production. To look upon her is to pray, to hope, to feel a 
 new inspiration ; her face is a sermon, a heaven of rest, once seen is 
 never to be forgotten, a presence ever abiding, an uplift ever felt. 
 And this is but one, yet to me the divinest, the most deeply spiritual 
 anywhere to be found. By the way, when you go to London do 
 not fail to visit the Dore Gallery. That weird creature whose sign 
 manual in our memories is for the most part snakes and billows of 
 flame and writhing humanity, has given in this gallery some of the 
 best conceptions of Jesus and his love extant. I think that no 
 more ravishingly beautiful face of the Son of man is to be found 
 than that of Dore's Christ coming down the steps of the Praetorium 
 after conviction. His conception of Christ saying " Come unto 
 me all ye that labor," etc., is also wonderful one feels that it is 
 exactly true. Yet in the Louvre there are some inexpressible faces 
 of Jesus ; they hold one tenderly, firmly, and appeal to the inmost 
 soul. I do not like Peter Paul Rubens. I suppose it is artistic 
 heresy to say so, but there, it is written down ! and now bring on the 
 thumbscrews and the rack. Nevertheless, I may say that having 
 seen those gentle persuaders in the Tower of London, I wish it dis- 
 tinctly understood that I mean bring them on figuratively. I never 
 saw the Rubens yet, I never entertained an opinion on art yet, for 
 which I would stand long in the presence of those hideous argu- 
 ments. I even wonder what kind of martyr timber there is in me. 
 But at this sife distance in time and space I repeat I do not like 
 
84 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 Rubens. He twists and distorts his figures, I suppose to show his 
 wonderful knowledge of human anatomy, but the effect is extremely 
 disagreeable. David is simply glorious. His paintings in the one 
 room at Versailles, showing the end of human glory in the case of 
 Napoleon, are enough of honorable achievement for one man. 
 There we see Napoleon as boy, as man ; Napoleon crowning Jose- 
 phine ; Napoleon giving the eagles to the army ; and finally, in the 
 center of the room, amid these grand portrayals of a life full of 
 ambition and accomplishment, stands a marble statue showing the 
 great general dying at St. Helena. Who can walk through these 
 miles of paintings and not be the better for it ? Would that we 
 could visit them often-, when the brain is weary and the pressure of 
 care is heavy ; when friends fall off and death seems a far more 
 agreeable companion than men are wont to think ; when thought is 
 feeble and expression difficult ; when we just hate books for we are 
 overfull of them ; then to walk silently here and look into face after 
 face that seem to open a vista, stretching away into undreamed-of 
 depths, to feel the impress of a presence that soothes as a mother, 
 that instructs as a teacher, that administers as a doctor ; to go on 
 looking into deeper grief than you have ever known, into more 
 hopeless friendliness than you have ever experienced ; this, all 
 this, is a soul bath in the best thought of the ages, in the holiest 
 conceptions of humanity, and as a resultant to go out with burdens 
 lifted, with courage renewed, this were invaluable. I have heard 
 slightingly of marble tears, but if any human being ever wept warmer 
 tears, or tears that touched more deeply the sympathy of the be- 
 holder than one marble woman is weeping in the Luxembourg, it 
 has not been made known to man. O Art, thou art divine, and 
 divinely canst thou bless us when portraying the love of God, the 
 Infinite, and the love of man to fellow man ! But while drifting 
 naturally to the galleries when speaking of the charms of that fair, 
 frail city, they are not all there by any means. Her churches are 
 worthy of high mention, her public buildings, her parks, her monu- 
 ments, all claim admiration. In one word, everybody who has 
 anything to do in the way of improvement endeavors not only to 
 see how it may be made to serve a useful end, but also how he 
 may combine the beautiful with it. 
 
 The fourteenth of July was a great day. Everything yielded to 
 the festive idea. A review of troops and a display of fireworks 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 85 
 
 were the main features of a general public character, but the 
 people, in their own way, sought amusement. Every cafe, and very 
 many buildings, were decorated with the three-barred flag, and many 
 also with the stars and stripes. Festoons were abundant, hung with 
 Chinese lanterns. Wine flowed in rivers men, women, and 
 children using it without stint. The boys and girls, and children 
 just able to toddle, feasted on bread and wine as if it were with us 
 bread and milk. The wine was Bordeaux in. many instances under 
 my observation, a light drink, and as harmless as any wine can ever 
 be. In the early part of the day, down in the lower part of the 
 town along the Place Vendome and Rue de Rivoli, I saw, perhaps, 
 a half dozen men who evidently had been drinking to excess, per- 
 haps of absinthe, or some heavy liquor, quantities of which are 
 used here. But after this I saw no one intoxicated nor boisterous. 
 I was in the crowd all day, and at night in so dense a crowd' that I 
 was somewhat nervous and I give the facts simply. It is estimated 
 that not less than one million of people were on the streets in the 
 pursuit of pleasure on this day. Every tramcar and omnibus, and 
 every steamer on the Seine, was crowded to the full limit of the law. 
 Nothing so notable as the crowd itself, and its behavior, came under 
 my eye. I saw no fighting ; there was no pushing nor any rudeness ; 
 but as Madam said before I went out so I found it true, " You will 
 find the French people very orderly and considerate." In the even^ 
 ing the new and useless iron tower, that is to be one thousand feet 
 high and is now four hundred and fifty, was utilized for the display 
 of fireworks. The Trocadero was illuminated gorgeously, the 
 fountains playing under the gaslights, waterfalls pouring over with gas- 
 light shining through a picture of oriental splendor. The grounds 
 of the Trocadero, from the steps of the building to the Seine, were 
 one dense mass of human beings, while avenue Kleber was studded 
 with carriages. Yet in all this moving mass of people, tired with 
 standing after a long day of festivity, impatient at the delay of the 
 exhibition, not one loud voice, not one angry word was heard. To 
 me it was a remarkable fact. A real live Irishman, after picnicing 
 in his accustomed way, would have been heard from a dozen times 
 in the same period. Another fact was the absence of policemen at 
 least they were not seen. Inside the gardens of the Trocadero 
 they were pacing up and down to keep the crowd from attempting 
 to invade them, but none were outside. I found no argument on 
 
86 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 all this. Personally, I do not like their wine-drinking customs. I 
 do not uphold them ; I should deplore such a condition of things 
 in America. But so much has been said upon this subject that I 
 set out to see for myself, and I have seen, and do testify that with 
 wine flowing on every side, and consumed by old and young, fat 
 and lean, nervous and sanguine, male and female, weak and strong, 
 patrician and plebian, the state of things in public at eleven o'clock 
 at night was as I have stated. Yet a thousand times rather our 
 home sentiment on this subject than the prevailing custom here. It 
 seems to me such a debasing practice, such a prostitution of the 
 nobler to the lower nature, that while we cannot point to gutters 
 filled with drunken people, somehow we feel that it is far below our 
 level. Somehow we are sure that it must, in the onflow of genera- 
 tions, make its mark upon the health, the power, the permanence of 
 the French republic. 
 
 Of the fireworks themselves, I will only say that they repaid all 
 the trouble we were at to see them. After they were over the crowd 
 surged down the avenue. I sat in my window and watched them 
 pass for a long time, filling the street loosely from wall to wall. I 
 am told by others who prowled around later (for some people never 
 can get enough), that there was dancing in every open place, while 
 the Place de Concorde was ablaze with light, and merry dancers 
 kept it up until towards morning. 
 
 The French horn wheezed and droned all day and far into the 
 night. Music has a soul, and any style of music that arrests and 
 soothes the soul of the masses certainly interprets their inner expe- 
 rience. The French horn can be called nothing else than a cry 
 of the soul in agony. First one strikes in with a strain in minor 
 key, then two or three more catch it up and all wail it out together. 
 The bagpipe of Scotland is to me a most touching instrument when 
 played by a skilled hand, and Scotch ballads are often painful. At 
 Roslyn an old man, with a voice of rare sweetness and pathos, 
 stood before the inn, and accompanying himself on an accordion, 
 sang Scotch songs. The first verse hushed our talking, the second 
 set us crying. We were not feeling very happy at Edinburgh, and 
 the old man struck the right chords in our hearts and soon did us up 
 completely. I wonder if the French soul is happy. I do not see 
 how it can be. Its music says that it is not. How different are our 
 American songs and popular airs. How different those of England. 
 
A PASTORAL .!()! KNEY. 87 
 
 France is prosperous. She wants peace, and will do anything in 
 honor to preserve it. But is she secure? The deep religious con- 
 victions lying as corner-stones of our republic are wanting here to 
 so great an extent that the future no man can determine. 
 
 FRANCIS A. HORTON. 
 
 LETTER XV. 
 
 STEAMER EIDER, NORTH GERMAN LLOYD, ^ 
 August 3, 1888. j 
 
 With a few additional notes of travel we will take leave of those 
 kind friends who through the columns of The Tribune have camped 
 and tramped with us for several months past. If they have taken 
 a tithe of the pleasure therein that we have experienced in their 
 company, our joy shall be full. 
 
 It was a gorgeous Sabbath morning when we awoke in Lucerne. 
 To one who has stopped there for a day, or for a longer season, the 
 mere mention of the name sends a thrill of pleasure through the soul, a 
 warmth through the body, and the blood bounding through the veins. 
 The beautiful, beatuiful water, the walks upon its banks, shaded by 
 double and triple rows of sycamores topped in to make them spread 
 and interlock their branches ; the life everywhere on land, on lake, in 
 skiff, and yacht, and swift steamer, the glorious Alps rising beyond 
 in long chains of snow- covered peaks, cooling the air, yet not cool- 
 ing it, sending into it a delicious sense of freshness and vigor, while 
 yet a sunshade is very acceptable, off there to the south the Rhigi, 
 with its hotel perched in cloudland, a picture all that can never be 
 effaced from the mind that has once taken it fully in, one that will 
 be a joy to the soul so long as memory holds her seat. Then the 
 bells ! Those Swiss bells was anything ever sweeter? We talk of 
 the church bell as a relic of barbarism. Let us not disgrace those 
 ancient bells by suggesting that those which bang and clang in mod- 
 ern steeples have descended from them or are in any way related to 
 them. These have a soul, and that soul has a song, and as they 
 roll it and roll it out it reaches to our soul and sings its sweetness 
 through all our being. One could hear them ring and sing for an 
 hour, and forget them as they lift us up into loftier realms of 
 thought, and soothe our cares and draw our tears until we feel that 
 
88 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 we have been holily wrought upon, if, indeed, we have not actually 
 worshipped. If one not in the trade may venture a suggestion, we 
 think that by attempting to cater to the idea of making less noise 
 we have reduced the size of our bells until the music is all out of 
 them and there is nothing left but a disagreeable residum of pure 
 noise of the order of the Chinese gong. Then, too, the metal may 
 have no tone in it because it is cheap, the attempt being to make a 
 saleable bell. The church bell has a place, as any one will confess 
 who has heard the bells of Lucerne, sending their voices over the 
 waters to the distant hills beyond, yet so soothingly that the sick 
 man near would be rested thereby, as a fevered child under the 
 crooning of a nurse. With deep regret we turned our backs upon 
 this charming spot, and with quickened pulse shall we come to the 
 day, should it ever be ours, when we shall revisit it and tarry longer. 
 Dashing along the railway to Frankfort-on-Main, we saw the 
 harvest in full blast. We could not but make a note of the part 
 the woman takes in all of these hard manual labors. It filled our 
 soul with pity, trained as we had been in a different system. The 
 man, with his funny little cradle, cuts down the grain, and the 
 woman stoops to earth, as though she had no back to ache, and 
 gathers it together into bundles and binds it. She carries the bun- 
 dles into heaps. She pitches them upon the load. She rakes down 
 the loaded wagon, and rakes after the wagon, and this, not in one 
 or two instances, but everywhere and all the way. In no country 
 in the world does woman, not in favored classes, but woman as 
 such, hold the place that she does in America. Just look over the 
 rail here into the steerage and see the women sitting about. Look 
 at those arms, bare, and brown, and brawny ; look at those hands 
 spread out of shape ; at those thick fingers, those broad, hard, 
 finger-nails, what evidences of toil in manual labor; how wearily 
 the body sinks together, the shoulders stooping, the clasped hands 
 presssed deeply into the lap; poor, tired mortal, we know what bur- 
 dens you have borne, we are happy to think that every turn of the 
 Eider's screw is sending you fifty feet nearer to a land where your 
 daughter or granddaughter will come into a condition of which you 
 have to-day, as you sit musing on that coil of rope, no faintest con- 
 ception. In all these European lands it is the same. We find 
 women carrying stone and mortar, attending upon workmen ; we 
 find them doing menial work, dragging carts, cleaning streets, and 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 89 
 
 the like. The difference is most noticeable in other ways. I think 
 I mentioned the remark of our accomplished young English board- 
 ing-house keeper in London. It will bear repeating. She said : 
 "What we English people notice most of all in our American guests 
 is the attention the married men show to their wives, the care they 
 take of them, and the way they wait upon them. With us it is 
 quite the reverse." As a result of our methods we may produce a 
 race of women not so robust, not able to walk so many miles, rais- 
 ing fewer children, with more headache and backache, but take the 
 rank and file of them through, from the lowliest to the most exalted, 
 there is an airness, a freshness, a springing gait, an intelligence in 
 eye and word, and a delicacy and refinement that we look for in 
 vain elsewhere. We are not prejudiced, but simply stating observed 
 facts with balanced judgment. 
 
 Everybody speculates about German politics in these days 
 except ourselves. But having the hearing ear and the recording 
 pencil we may be pardoned a reflection. There is undoubtedly a 
 large element in Germany that sympathizes with the late Emperor 
 Frederick in the belief that the taking of Alsace and Lorraine was 
 a mistake; that Germany did not need the territory and that that 
 act will certainly produce trouble in days to come. It is stated, 
 with some show of authority, that Frederick contemplated a bold 
 proposition in the way of a peaceful restoration. The present 
 Emperor, therefore, recently in saying with the heartlessness of a 
 Napolean that he would prefer to see his German corps cut to 
 pieces rather than restore one piece of acquired territory, or words 
 to that effect, was not beating a man of straw, it was aimed at this 
 sentiment that is freely expressed in the fatherland. A most intel- 
 ligent German, while glorying in that acquisition on the ground of 
 national pride, as all do, admitted over the table d'hote in the very 
 hotel in Frankfort in one of the upper rooms of which the treaty of 
 Frankfort was prepared and signed, that trouble would yet come of 
 it. On the Freach side the immortelles are never wanting on the 
 statue representing Strasburg in the Place du Concorde in Paris, 
 and always French flags may be seen crossed upon it draped in 
 mourning. No one can forecast the future. The French people, 
 rank and file, are wearied with the Republic, they are ready for a 
 change. 
 
 The surprising success of Boulanger in the recent elections only 
 10 
 
90 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 confirms the statement made to me by an intelligent resident in 
 Paris one day, in the galleries of Versailles, that "the people were 
 tired of the republic ; they were far more miserable and poorly gov- 
 erned than under the empire." I confess I was surprised, and took 
 the statement with mental reservations. But it seems to be nearer 
 the truth after all. So there are wheels within wheels, currents and 
 counter-currents, and what the outcome may be none can say. 
 
 Embarking at Mainz we sailed down the Rhine to Cologne. We 
 did not find the Rhine so wonderful, and we did not find all of 
 those odors at Cologne. The river is beautiful ; the city is clean 
 and pleasing. Comparisons are not pleasant. I only venture to say 
 I am not dissatisfied that I was born on the banks of the Hudson. 
 Nature, antiquity, and industry make up the charms of the river. 
 Nature, in a copious stream, winding among hills of respectable 
 size and height; antiquity, in crowning these otherwise uninteresting, 
 hills with castles that people the heights with imaginary men and 
 armies and pass long reaches of history and romance before the 
 mind ; industry, that has constructed miles upon miles of stone ter- 
 races, from summit to water's edge, to make possible the cultivation 
 of the grape on those steep sides. This is the Rhine, a river of 
 which every German is properly proud, and on which every tourist 
 may and should spend a very pleasant day. The wines raised on 
 the shore are for sale on board, or are supposed to be. And the 
 capacity of man and woman to contain those sour drinks is simply 
 wonderful. Rudesheimer, Oppenheimer, and many other heimers 
 follow each other down all day long, with no effect visible, save that 
 they flush the ladies and blonde young men to the roots of the hair. 
 When we went on board at Mainz, one man and two women had 
 taken possession of one of the many tables on deck, and were drinking 
 a white wine; after finishing this they called for some sandwiches 
 and wine ; this done they had a red wine, then came dinner, when 
 they took a wine to assist digestion. We thought surely that they 
 were done now, but lo ! on ascending to the deck they met a few 
 friends, and the group took a new table, and each of the male 
 members ordered his favorite brand of wine, and finished as the 
 high towers of the Cologne Cathedral appeared above the plains 
 looming heavenward, while all other objects adjacent to it were still 
 below the horizon of plain vision. It was the longest drink I had 
 ever witnessed, and they seemed to regret the end. v The statement 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 91 
 
 has been made that only 2,000,000 gallons of wine consumption for 
 California last year was truly lamentable ; that Paris would con- 
 sume it in two days. May a kind Providence long defend us against 
 such guzzling, such senseless, sottish, extravagant consumption of 
 harmless wines as one sees in Paris and on the Rhine. Everything 
 has its place ; we do not deny it to the mild wines of the old world 
 where any find their moderate use medicinal, as so many claim. 
 But if that admission is in any way likely to bring in its train such 
 drinking for the mere sake of killing time, or for seeing how much 
 one can hold, or worse, from national habit, until only the fact of 
 the excess is apparent to a stranger visitor, then say I, perish every 
 vine in California, welcome blizzards to blight, phylloxera to destroy. 
 Yes, perish the vines and save the people. This excessive use must 
 work great and detrimental changes in national tone, and temper, 
 and constitution in long years. The first effect, we learn, is a sense 
 of weariness inducing sleep. But says my apologist, a young lady, 
 this is the thing desired ; we Americans work too hard, we come 
 here to rest, and we want to sleep. The next effect is when the 
 brain is struggling up from this stupidity and finds itself fettered, 
 then comes irritability, and the French wine-drinker is on fire in a 
 moment. Those terrible welts on his horse's side, those blood-ooz- 
 ing blows, may have come straight from his light wine-cup. Con- 
 tinue this, day after day, and year after year, and a permanent 
 deterioration of character must ensue. Spare America a practically 
 free wine bottle. 
 
 At last in Bremerhafen our eyes fell upon the good ship Eider, in 
 which we were to go down upon the deep once more for the voyage 
 home. The ladies thought she looked small to be charged with 
 so important a responsibility, but she was distant, and behind her 
 was a background of ocean that made her look smaller by compar- 
 ison. We found her an admirable craft, costing about $1,000,000; 
 her saloon and smoking-room alone costing ^40,000 for fittings, 
 including paintings, etc. The rooms are large, ventilation is good, 
 everything is clean and orderly, the officers are gentlemen off duty, 
 and unapproachable when on duty, especially when the weather is 
 at all thick ; the tables are supplied bountifully, ice cream, for exam- 
 ple, being carried from New York in quantity to be served to the 
 saloon passengers every day at dinner, out and return, and to second 
 cabin three times a week on outward and homeward voyages. It is 
 
92 A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 
 
 packed in small paper boxes and then put in refrigerators, like 
 Washington hokey-pokey. The stewards of the second cabin are 
 hired with reference to their musical ability as well as to their pro- 
 ficiency as waiters. They form a band, and are supplied with 
 excellent instruments, wind and string. They play as a band on 
 deck and as an orchestra in the saloon while the first cabin is at 
 dinner. Their dinner programme consists of six. well chosen pieces, 
 varying from popular airs up to high opera. When soup is ready 
 the music strikes up and the waiters file in, the music continuing 
 through all the courses, responses being made to encores cheerfully. 
 The pleasure herein is very great, and the profit, too, for this men- 
 tal diversion to some small extent counteracts sea-sickness and 
 enables a person to remain at table who otherwise would go climb- 
 ing up the rubber stairs to the deck. Good speed is attained every 
 day, not far from four hundred miles either way. Take it for all in 
 all, it is one of the pleasantest lines on the ocean. But my creed 
 for ocean travel has only one article, viz. : we believe in the swiftest 
 ships consistent with safety and the shortest distance between get- 
 ting on and off. 
 
 Bishop Doane, of Albany, was one of our number, and a genial 
 companion, as well as a most learned chufthman. He was return- 
 ing from the Lambeth Convocation, and complained of being 
 preached almost to death. He gave us a good discourse on the 
 lesson for the second Sabbath of our voyage. 
 
 We had a little sensation which might have filled a few columns 
 of a morning daily were it not that a miss is as good as a mile. The 
 horrible fog had closed us in for a couple of days, during which the 
 depressing signal had been blowing at regular intervals, making us 
 dread to go down below, and afraid to fall asleep. But we did fall 
 off, until we were awakened by the stillness. One becomes so accus- 
 tomed to the regular beating of the great engine's pulse that when 
 it ceased it awakened us. We listened for the screw and could not 
 hear it, yet felt a slight tremor, showing that we were moving 
 enough to keep steerage way. Then came an answer to our fog 
 horn out of the white wet blanket uround us call and answer, call 
 and answer then suddenly as though the ship were leaping back 
 from a yawning chasm came an awful shaking. It was the screw 
 reversing at full speed we were backing away from something. 
 Out of berth we flew, and with head out of porthole peered into the 
 
A PASTORAL JOURNEY. 93 
 
 fog. As good luck would have it, we were on the port side, and 
 were just in time to see a three-masted schooner with sails set fall- 
 ing across our bow from the starboard side. In another instant the 
 fog closed her in, and we could hear her horn for a little time only. 
 It was a close call for one or the other of us. Had we struck her 
 there would have been two of her in a trice ; had she struck us, we, 
 personally, might have got out of our room alive, as we were on the 
 port side, but I have no idea that this letter would ever have been 
 written. The chances of being saved, in such an event, are so 
 slim that it is a wonder any one ever lives to tell the tale. But we 
 came safely through, and presume that in due course of years we 
 may brave the fogs again. 
 
 At last came the pilot, full five hundred miles out at sea and with 
 him papers from home several days old, but still new to us. Then 
 in due course the lights along the shore began to appear and finally 
 the warm breath of an American August and the genial welcome of 
 the industrious mosquito. Our hearts arose with the rising shore 
 lines and the mountain steeples, and our palates began to clamor 
 for green corn, and butter with salt in it. 
 
 After all, how much of life is made up of little things, and how 
 little a thing life is itself. Yet happiness is in attention to little 
 things, and if, in noting with some detail the little haps and mis- 
 haps of our most enjoyable wandering, we have prepared any intend- 
 ing tourist the better for his outing, we shall feel as amply rewarded 
 as though we had brought great things to those who through care- 
 fully written books of travel have had a surfeit of them already. 
 
 FRANCIS A. HORTON. 
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 w 
 
 8 
 
 o 
 
 p 
 
 P4 
 
 
 1 ^F