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4 THE PRESBYTERIA]
ing the trust all the time- The honor which New Orleans
pays to his memory once a year, when all its
school children march around tin* mr<nii?n*?f /-*(
benefactor and almost bury it beneath the flowers and
. garlands they bring, because he asked for nothing but
this in return for what he did for the schools, is a hollow,
shameful mockery until the Commissioners of the
McDonogh Fund see that the "all times and forever"
use of the Bible which he provided for is actually
maae. 1 lie trust is violated as long as the Bible is
kept out of the schools built with his money.
A SABBATH IN LONDON.
It was with great reluctance that I left Edinburgh
to journey towards London. Our first stop was at
Melrose, an hour and a half south of Edinburgh. From
there we drove to the house of Sir Walter Scott, at Ab?i
?i . ?
uuusiuiu, anu 10 nis grave at JJryburgh Abbey. We
have spent no more interesting day in England. How
real it makes Scott. We will always read him with
more intense interest in the future. I spent a night at
Durham and visited the beautiful old Cathedral early
next morning. 1 recalled a little story of Sidney
Smith, the witty canon of St. Paul's. He said that he *
was never quite sure of the doctrine of apostolic succession
until he met the Bishop of Durham. Ever
after that he was sure that the Bishop was a lineal
successor of Judas Iscariot. So we see tlmt ic a
trine that might work both ways. But I can not imagine
which bishop that was, for it seems to me that
Durham has had more great bishops than any other
place in England. Butler, who wrote "The Analogy,';
Lightfoot, who wrote such lucid and scholarly commentaries
on the Pauline Epistles, and Westcott, who
was such a great authority on the New Testament
Text^and Canon, were all Bishops of Durham. The
venerable Bede about whom so many beautiful stories
are told and of whom we learn in college or very soon
after we get to seminary, is buried in the Cathedral at
Durham. It seems that they dig him up occasionally
to see if he is still there.
My next stop was at old York. Yorkminster is the
largest cathedral in England. It covers two and a half
arrpc Tl-ia ?1 -?? - * * *
a. ..t oLaiucu giass m us windows would cover
three-fourths of an acre. For a number of years it had
the biggest bell in England, known as "Big Peter."
It weighs about eleven tons.* "Big Peter" has been
supplanted by "Big Ben" at the House of Parliament,
which weighs fourteen tons, and "Great Paul," in St.
Paul's Cathedral, which weighs seventeen tons.
These are the three great bells of England.
I W35 mnr#? int o/-l in 1i-? *_ i t <
_ ?me living /\rcriDisnop oi
York than I was in any of their dead ones, which is
rather unusual. We spend a great deal of our time
in cemeteries over here. The present archbishop is
the Rev. Dr. C. Gordon Lang, the con of a Presbyterian
minister. He was a Presbyterian himself until
he became a student at Oxford University. There the
Anglican tide was too strong for him and he went
over to the Church of England. The last two Archbishops
of Canterbury were brought up Presbyterians
and the same thing happened to them. Here is food
for thought for our Presbyterian parents when they
come to send their sons off to college. Archbishop
Lang is a great spiritual power in the Church of Eng
N OF THE SOUTH. Sept. 22, 1909.
land. It is a pity that the Presbyterians lost him
when they need him so much.
I have had greater respect for English trains since
I spent four hours on the express from York to London.
Before that their trains and methods of travel
seemed archaic. But there is nothing archaic about
that particular train. I doubt whether we have anything
in America to equal it for speed or comfort.
The thing that strikes me most of all about London
.?* <
io ii3 VU5U1CSS. many 01 us remember pleasantly
Walker Crawley, the colored hack driver between
Hampden-Sidney and Farmville. I believe he is dead
now. He paid a visit to New York in my seminary
days. I asked him to tell me what made the most impression
on him of all the things he saw. He declined
to tell and grew reserved. I pressed him. "Well," he
said, in his stammering way, "the thing that kept coming
to me over and over was how in the name of com
mon sense the Lord keeps up with all them people."
I can begin to understand his feelings since I came to
London. There is no end to London, and there are
people everywhere. If you will go to the center of
London and draw a circle with a radius of twenty
miles you will have in that circle more people than
there are in the three States of North Carolina, South
Carolina and Georgia combined. You will have onesixth
of all the people in the British Isles. "London
contains more Irishmen than Dublin, more Scotchmen
than Edinburgh, and more Jews than all Palestine."
Not only does the city as a whole impress one with its
vastness, but as he begins to study the individual parts
of this great city he is overwhelmed with this same
sense of vastness. Go into Westminster Abbey.
There is no end to it. You could snend a lif^tim^
studying that one building. Visit the House of Parliament
just across from the Abbey and you will find
painting and statuary and points of historical interest
sufficient to occupy years of your time. A half day in
St- Paul's Cathedral will have you feeling that you
could devote your whole stay in London to that one
place alone. Spend a morning in the Tower of London
and you have been there only long enough to begin
to comprehend its vastness. Give a Hav to tiio
galleries and you feel that it would take a lifetime to
study and appreciate all that you have seen. Go to
the Zoological and Botanical Gardens and you will
wish that you could live near it the rest of your life.
Spend a day in the British Museum, the most wonderful
and most interesting place in London, and you will
wish that you could live near it the rest of your life,
so that you might be able in a lifetime to explore at
least one little corner of it. It is the greatest storehouse
of learniner and information in
... V??V fTUliU.
So it is everywhere you go, this sense of vastness is
ever with you until it becomes almost oppressive. But
it is not of these things that I started out to write.
Are they not all written down in guide books and en
cyclopedias? I intended to speak mainly of my own
personal experiences and of my observations in London
on a Sabbath day.
Taine, the Frenchman who has written such a brilliant
history of English literature, has this to say
ibout Sunday in London: "Sunday in London?the
shops are shut, the streets almost deserted; the aspect,
is that-of an immense and well ordered cemetery. The