Suburbanism

A SUBURBAN” pastorate! my friend Mr. Washington tliougli too robust to be unsettled by idle fancies,, or seduced into self-indulgence by morbid sentiment, bad sigbed for such a pastorate as a happy release from the clouded and restless city in wbicb be bad ministered for twenty years. He longed to escape from the tumult and roar of crowded tborougbfares, and to enjoy the silence and contemplativeness of country life — specially of country life on Sundays when the quiet of rural scenery is busbed into a deeper calm and made to barmonize with the peaceful joy wbicb trembles in the good mans heart. I did not wonder at bis passion for the country, because be bad the trained ear wbicb quickly bears the going of God in the patbs of nature, and the penetratiug eye wbicb sees more than the mere letters wbicb are written on the earth and sky; God bad made him a deep interpreter of natural signs, and given him that enricbing gift of amplification and ideal development by wbicb poets are able to make for themselves new heavens and a new earth. He walked as a free man in the most cbarming baunts of nature; be knew the voices of the birds, and was familiar with the names of many trees and plants; like an ardent lover be never tired of the sunny scene, and lotig after pblegmatic observers had exhausted its attractions some new blush caught his watchful eyes or some winged minstrel detained him to listen to a wordless song. That such a man had a desire for a suburban pastorate is easily imaginable and therefore though too reverent to force the gate which separated him from the enchanting land Mr. Washington would gladly have assisted a higher hand than his own in opening it. To a fancy so fertile as his there were many urgent allurements — the church on the hill-side, happy families trooping from all directions to the house of the One Father; the book of revelation illustrated by the book of nature; opportunity for self-introversion, and that refinement of spiritual education which to some men is almost impossible amid scenes which incessantly strain their activities; — all these things charmed and tempted him, and at length brought him into bondage. Why not? Is it not hard for the poetic mind to dismiss the idea of an intermediate heaven, — a quiet and sunny place just on the border-land lying between the great Shadow and the greater Light? To such a mind it seems a long way to heaven from the thronged streets through which Mammon drives its sweltering votaries, and but a step from the flowery and fragrant landscape to the City of peace. So it appeared to Matthew Washington, and he desired its realization, though he had not lost one impulse of his generous humanity; his pitying heart had not been chilled or shrivelled; so sure was I of this that I had a deep conviction that he would carry with him all his city memories, and that they would very probably add a thorn or two to the tempting rose which he was so eager to pluck. In talking over his experiences in a suburban pastorate

Mr. Washington gave me a little insight into that intermediate heaven of which. He had been dreaming for many a day; and a« it is quite lawful to utter everything I heard about that murky and deceitful sky I shall take the public into my confidence, and interpret the vision of a few kindred dreamers.

Mr. Washington told me that he never knew what respectability was until he saw it in the suburbs; he had been accustomed to its presence in the city, doing its business, eating its public dinner, buying its pennyworth of literature, and pleasantly mixing with all the varieties of personality and costume which go to the making up of a city crowd; this was quite familiar to him; but when he saw respectability away from its mixed and softening surroundings, when its decorations were prominently displayed, and it seemed to have written out its claims after the manner of a bill of particulars, he told me that his first sensation was that of intense coldness, — he shivered as if a hand of ice had suddenly touched him, and looked round for the old kind friendships which had often made him glow with love to the whole world. When the broadcloth, the kid gloves, the jewellery, and fancy decorations are more prominent than the man; when the shell is exaggerated to a maximum, and the soul is confined to a small dark corner; — it is not to be wondered at that guileless and earnest men are conscious of a change of climate which threatens their very existence. No respectability of culture, of nobleness, of benevolence, could have been too refined or too conspicuous for Matthew Washington; he would never have complained of this, he would rather have revelled and gloried in it with exceeding appreciation and thaiikful-

156 Ad Cleriim: Advices to a Young Freacliet.

ness; but when respectability exhausted itself in cabinetmaking, upholstery, and tailoring, lie shrunk from it as from an effigy which he had mistaken for a living friend. In the suburb which Mr. Washington had chosen as the scene of his ministry there were forests of mahogany, whole potteries of elegant ware, and nearly every house had a fancy bazaar of its own; to his unconventional mind it seemed that there must be quite a dearth of household articles in the rest of the world, and that his suburb had laid itself open to a just charge of voracious and heartless monopoly. The influence of this oppressive respectability was felt everywhere, — on the road, in the house, at school, but specially and cruelly in the sanctuary. Mr. Washington was very earnest in his manner of speaking about this; it was the chief difficulty of his pastorate, and he chafed under it without any attempt to conceal his pain. He felt that he was expected to determine his sermons by the local standard of respectability; he was to preach quite as much to the mahogany as to the men; he was to think of the turkey carpets in his exposition, and to remember the porcelain in his peroration; the idol was constantly before him, clipping the wings of his fancy, cooling the fervour of his passion, and whispering with cold breath, “Sir, look at me, and mind your manners V To a man of Washington’s make this was intolerable; he sufi’ered patiently for a while, but at last the soul made a way for itself and delivered a startling and burning testimony. The earnest witness had of course to reap the consequences of his temerity: several seatholders protested, a few besought him to return to his beautiful ‘^ sermons, and an indignant boarding school abandoned the desecrated place for ever. Were they not right? Is it a proper thing to let loose a whirlwind upon a genteel suburb? Is it becoming or agreeable to thunder the terrors of the Lord in the hearing of ratepayers who keep three servants each, and sneer at every house which has less than four rooms on the ground floor? Here was Mr. Washington’s error in not discriminating between the rough and worthless creatures who occupy the ungainly city, and the genteel and peerless lives that keep up the respectability of the nation. His hearers required doctrine without controversy, a lavish interspersion of rhyming couplets, and a loving assurance that, whatever became of the rest of the world, they themselves only wanted wings to become beautiful and happy as angels; this would have met their modest expectations, and secured their well regulated applause. Instead of this their bold and ardent pastor committed the unpardonable impertinence of metaphorically dismissing their coachmen, setting fire to their mahogany, sending back their ornaments to the goldsmith, and talking to their souls the pure and revolutionary language of the gospel. This ‘^^ sort of thing’“’ would have done admirably for the people who spend their Sundays under the city cloud, but was insufferable to the human nature that kept gigs and formed intelligent opinions upon the* prevailing fashions. “When human nature keeps a gig and is sufiiciently refined to discriminate between one perfume and another, it is only proper that its theology should be at least abreast of its civilization; the ten commandments must subdue their tone, the sermon on the mount must be republished with emendations of every alternate sentence, and the New Testament must be bound in vellum, and so arranged that it opens most easily at the

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precious promises; let this be done, and the world will enter into rest. The Dean of Canterbury in the year of grace 18G9 asked, “Why is not an attempt made to get rid of religion?^’ and the bold interrogator added,” Men of the world must find it a great plague. It robs them of one day in the week, as far as outward business is concerned. It obliges them to submit to, and bear part in, a great deal of what they must feel to be atrocious humbug.’^ Let the Dean talk the matter over with Mr. Washington, and perhaps he will learn that in some suburbs “religion ‘^ has been most genteelly entombed, and that a guard has been set lest any of its fanatical believers should attempt to take it away. Men” get rid of religion ‘’ more respectably by chloroform than by a poleaxe.

Pedantic respectability was not the only difficulty with which Mr. Washington had to contend. Alongside of it, so to speak, there stood a grim opponent properly called Sciolism. Every one in the congregation seemed to know a little about some out-of-the-way subject; not one had drunk deeply at the Pierian spring, but all had tasted its delicious waters. Mr. Washington’s church became like an incipient university, wanting nothing but genius and learning to make it almost moderately respectable. Every household had its hobby, and every child felt himself at liberty to put Mr. Washington through” the larger catechism with proofs.’^ Mr. Washington thus came by some strange experiences, not without instruction to the rising ministry. One family, for example, proud of a garden thirteen feet by seven, had undertaken the study of botany, and had duly classified a guinea’s worth of plants into Phanerogameae and Cryptogameae j Mr. Washington

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amiably admired the happy distribution, and tliongbt lie was coming off with flying colours, when a young lady, in her thirteenth year, utterly humbled him by asking whether the Prlmnla farinosa belonged to the epiphytic or parasitic series of plants? Of course the young lady herself knew, and of course her heart struggled between pity and contempt as she looked upon her uncultivated and plebeian pastor. The famous” schoolboy ‘’ to whom Lord. MaCxVULAY so often and so flatteringly refers (unknown, however, to all the world except the omnivorous baron himself) would have instantly answered the trifling question off book, but the unmannerly Washington bluntly replied that ke knew nothing about it. The blunder had serious consequences, — the young* lady could never comfortably place herself under the guidance of so ignorant a pastor. Another family had taken up the science of geology with consuming ardour. The importance of a knowledge of the structure of the earth was paramount: no man was fit to live who was not deeply versed in palaeontology and mineralogy, or who did not know the difference between an argillaceous rock and a mammaliferous crag. This was the noble creed of the amateur geologists; from morning till night their inspiring talk was about fossils, specimens, and remains; every mantelpiece in the house bore some sign of felspars, hornblendes, micas, and zeolites; every child who had escaped long clothes had heard something of lamination, interstratification, and lateral variation; the proud parents, blinded by the dazzling genius of their offspring, glowed with admiring and speechless love as they heard their youngest son expatiate upon the contemporaneity of beds and the distinction between anticlinal and synclinal curves. Poor Mr. Washington was ‘^ nowhere ^’ on this deep subject; but he little knew the blankness and culpability of his ignorance until a youngster, in the act of finishing a muffin, asked him if he could tell when the Jurassic period ended and the Cretaceous period began; the union of such splendid intellect with so ordinary and useful an accomplishment, while it intoxicated the parents with delight, filled the pastor with humiliating dismay. Other families had their favourite pursuits, — astronomy, ethnology, history, chemistry, and even ontology in all its abysmal profundity and hazy amplitude; but the most conspicuous instance of scientific devotion was represented by a little company of three families, numbering on an average six members each, associated for the purpose of studying music. As the improvement of congregational psalmody was one of the subordinate objects of the association, Mr. Washington was occasionally invited to attend the meetings. My reverend friend was soon distracted by subtle discussions about dispersed harmony, dominant sevenths, and the percussion of dissonances, — the last being forcibly illustrated by two eloquent ladies. Mr. Washington was, of course, delighted with the rare accomplishments of his people; he said so; said so with hearty and generous emphasis; said so again and again, as if he had nothing else to say; his only wonder was that with eighteen such brilliant singers in his comparatively small congregation the singing was not of a higher type; though he was bound to acknowledge, in common fairness, that since the association was founded he had heard of several of its eighteen members singing a common metre tune or two in a genteelly mumbling sort of style so perfectly

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scientifac and refined that not a soul could hear them at the distance of more than four inches.

With all this pedantic respectability and still more pedantic sciolism there was, of course, a good dal that was unnatural in the spirit and habits of the people. Everything was done by rule; everybody was secretly endeavouring to find out” the correct thing/^ and was determined to do it, whatever pain it might involve. To have made a morning call before three oclock would have degraded the caste of the oldest inhabitant; to have shaken, with anything like cordiality, the hand of the most intimate friend, would have damaged the most established reputation; and to have laughed heartily would have blighted the fairest prospects of life. It was of course forbidden that anything even remotely approaching surprise should be expressed; a comet was to be looked at in a most composed manner, a total eclipse of the sun was to be regarded as a commonplace afiair, no notice was to be taken of so trifling an event as an earthquake; and as for shipwrecks, railway collisions, and colliery explosions, to have so much as named them would have plunged the excited newsmonger into the depths of vulgarity. This frigidity chilled Mr. Washington to the core; it chilled his sermons; and worst of all it chilled his prayers, — those great prayers, so rich, so simple, so wise [ He still had the solace of Gods fair field of nature, and he enjoyed it to the full. Early in the morning he worshipped in the waving woods, and carried forward the sweet song of birds to a higher devotion; great nature was kind to him as a welcoming mother, opening many a hidden door to his appreciative eyes, and adding many a modest and pleasant acquaintance to the long list of his quiet friendships within the circle of the wood. As a thinker who worked rather from the spiritual centre than from the base of information, his field rambles were very helpful to him; his mind was quieted and toned by the most potent yet gentle influences, and he gathered in those lonely rambles the vivid and truthful images which give to his writings the living charm which allures the busiest reader to their close.

Yes; we owe Matthew Washington’s writings very largely to his suburbanism. When he was in the city he wrote hurriedly, merely hinting at his subjects and never doing himself justice either as a thinker or as a writer. It was enough for him to throw out an idea in its boldest form; he almost despised artistic garniture and studious elaboration, — there was the idea, what more could people possibly require? The consequence was that a certain class of sectarian reviewers handled him very roughly; they described his style as jagged, abrupt, almost coarse, and one reviewer so far patronised him as to say ‘^ Mr. Washington is improving; ‘^ how these words made me tingle and burn with anger! Washington himself merely smiled at them: “Why, sir,’’ said I,” it were better to be cursed outright than to have such dead praise! “I cannot forget the beaming of his face as he listened to this burst of youthful enthusiasm, — ‘^ It is being cursed outright,” he answered, ‘’ if you did but understand it; the writer of these words means to sink me with a heavy compliment.-” I did not comprehend the sentiment then, but it has since come to have a clearer meaning. When Mr. Washington went into the suburbs he pleasantly said he would” try to spin better; ‘’ it was like him to

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speak thus moclestly; there was resolution in the words, though they were so simple and unpretending; how far they were fulfilled is known only to those who were made acquainted with the extent of his anonymous writings. I never knew any mans style undergo a greater change; whore it was short, edged, and rasping, it became flowing, persuasive, and conciliatory, and where once it would have but pointed a directing finger it now revelled exultantly over the whole space which the writer’s thought was intended to occupy. In addition to many essays upon some of the deepest problems in theology, he indulged in repeated excursions into more cheerful districts of literature, and enriched the serials of the day with many an airy dream and tuneful lyric, of whose authorship the noisy world never knew. He has listened to praises of his writings by men who never would have looked at them had they known their author, but not once did he yield to the pleasant temptation to say ‘^ I wrote them;” he heard the verdict, and his reward for years of hard schooling was enough to satisfy him. I wanted to publish his claims as an author, but he reminded me that silence is older than speech, and that fame is better for the dead than the living. I disputed this, and fliittered myself that my logic was better than his.

“Why, sir,^’ said I, ‘^ is not fame but another name for influence? and is not every one bound to increase his influence to the farthest possible extent V

“Possibly so,^^ he replied; but where an authors discovered personality might substitute aversion for applause, he might diminish his influence by attempting to augment it.^^

“On the other hand,” I ventured to rejoin, ‘Ms it not

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probable that in many instances the force of prejudice might be broken, and men be brought to own their mistake and repair it? ‘*

“Now and again such a conversion would probably occur,” he admitted; “but taking a wide view of life, I believe that it is better not to risk the influence of the thought by disclosing too early the personality of the thinker; that is, if his personality be in any way likely to excite prejudice. What does a moment’s popularity amount to? Let a man give his name at last, if it so please him, for death is the best answer to prejudice; a stern and terrible answer I admit.”

With these views Matthew Washington continued his literary vizor to the end. Never was workman more punctually at his post than was Washington at his desk; he wrote with his heart as well as with his hands; and though I was honoured with his confidence for years I never heard him say that any paragraph of his own fully satisfied his critical judgment; he could have improved a word, or strengthened a sentence, or burnished an image, or filed off” an asperity, or done something which perhaps nobody else ever thought was in any degree necessary or desirable. My fear was that his suburbanism was making him too finical, and that for the old abrupt vigour he would substitute an insipid refinement; happily my fear proved to be unfounded, for though the change in his style of expression was most marked the pungency and strength of his thought escaped deterioration. His literary pursuits saved him from the melancholy which upon such a temperament as his would have been superinduced by suburbanism; he had a secret world all to himself, a world bright with stars and beautiful with many flowers and in tMs world lie found bread to eat of which his suburban friends did not know. Yet there was a grief darkening and depressing the good man’s heart; and that grief arose from the fact that his people looked upon suburbanism as a providential exoneration from a good deal of the hard work which falls to the lot of what may be called city Christianity. The yoor, being out of sight, were to a large extent also out of mind; Sunday-school service was unknown; tract distribution would have been an elaborate insult; open air preaching would have brought eternal disgrace upon the whole suburb; and any other form of work would have ruined the reputation of its projector. Religion soon becomes a superstition when it ceases to be a practice; and in proportion as the second commandment is neglected the first commandment becomes the occasion of the most corrupt selfishness, — necessarily so, for reverence without benevolence destroys the universality of relationship which stimulates and strengthens the best afiections of human nature. To do the simplest work is to save religion from the most aggravated misanthropy. For a man to light his last candle and set it in the window of his cot, with the hope that its ray may catch the eager eye of the struggling mariner who would give the world for light, is to please God more than to perform the most stately ceremony as if the earth were no longer the abode of suffering humanity. True, we must not forsake the temple; but, equally true, we must not neglect the disabled man who lies daily at its most beautiful gate. It is not denied that the picture of suburbanism now drawn is purposely exaggerated, but it is solemnly affirmed that there is enough of reality in it to demand the serious

C3iisideratioii of all who wish to do the work which Jesus Christ undertook throughout the whole of His ministry. No doubt the city is less pleasant than the green country; no doubt the elegant sanctuary is more agreeable than the great meeting-house which stands in the thoroughfare of an ill kept town; no doubt there is a powerful charm in select society: all this is freely admitted; but when the whole case is viewed from the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ; I cannot but hope that there will be a nearly complete inversion of the effects of suburbanism; surely the happy day will come when the members of Christian families will say to one another, as regularly as the dawning of the sabbath, ‘^ We have enjoyed during the week many of the sweet and healthful blessings of the country; let us go to-day to visit in Christs name and for Christs good purposes the great city, that we may teach little children, that we may relieve and cheer the poor, and that we may support the ministers who witness for Christ under many discouragements.’’^ Such a holy resolution would add keener relish to the enjoyments of the whole week, it would gladden many cheerless lives and give robustness to the finest graces of the soul. Would not such a course be troublesome? Not if lovingly pursued for Christ’s sake. Would it not be expensive? A few less luxuries, a diamond ring or two, half a dozen gay parties fewer, would go a long way towards the annual cost; but what of the annual, the incessant compensation? What enlargement of mind, what satisfaction of heart, what thankfulness, what peaceful joy! Undoubtedly there would be trouble and expense; bat are not these among the chief modern tests of our love for the Saviour? Aforetime men risked their liberties and even their lives

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for Clirists sake, and now we murmur if we have to endure the slightest inconvenience in His cause! We may have left our poor brother in the city, but he is our brother still and we are his keeper! Parents have taken away their children from the sad sights of the great city, but their children may be weaker men as a consequence of this fancied privilege: great men are trained by great discipline; the soul must have a great school: the conservatory may be full of beauty, but it is in the great storm-rocked forests that men find the timber for the temples of the land and the navies of the world.