The Henson Journals

[12]

11th Sunday after Trinity, August 18th 1901.

Sunday in a strange land always sends the traveller's thoughts homewards: &, perhaps, most of all, the Englishman's, for his Sunday is, in special measures, characteristic. The Church of England seems a worthier thing than these reformed Churches of the continent. Of course it is immensely difficult to make a just comparison. We know our own church from within, these churches we see only from without: & not the best even of their outside aspect; one wonders what spiritual hold they have over the people. At Bremen we saw in one church notice of a meeting of a Merchant's Guild, apparently of a devotional character: children's services were also announced on the notice board of more than one church, of those we visited: preaching is, of course, constant: and, at Hamburg, there were printed notices about confession, both public & private in preparation for Holy Communion. Boxes for the poor of the Gemeinde, which are prominent in the Lutheran Churches, might be thought to indicate a system of parochial visitation. There certainly are persons, analogous to our deaconesses or district women at work. Yet there seems a strangely dead appearance about the churches. Not a soul uses them for private prayer: & there is a total absence of reverence in the demeanour of visitors, not foreign but native. The Germans are certainly better than the Dutch, but neither is other than painfully irreverent. Of course, that kind of irreverence need not mean much: but, when allowances are made, it yields no good evidence as to the spiritual state of the people. No clergy are visible in the streets, or, at least, none in a recognisable dress: & there are extraordinarily few churches. The organs & the pulpits have crowded out the altars, & the organs seem to be prevailing over the pulpits. It is a painful descent. From Divine Sacrament to human ministry: from human ministry to mechanical exercise: it is a transition from heaven to earth: the House of God has become a music–hall. But is it otherwise in England? Do our surplices, & liturgies, & waxing ceremonials alter the character of the development, which there also is secularising the churches from within? A question ominous to ask, & humiliating to answer. Behind the ecclesiastical organisation stands that to which it is properly ministerial, & by which it must in the end be judged – moral effect. How far do these apparently dead churches influence for righteousness the life of the people? Amsterdam, where the churches externally are worst of all, is, like London, 'famous for its charities'. What is the inference we should naturally draw in our own case? And, if indeed, it be granted, & who can deny it?, that this kind of moral effect is the least morally respectable, & the least spiritually suggestive, what other is equally accessible to us? Statistics of illegitimacy & sexual immorality seem broadly the same in all western communities: & the variations seem best explained by ethnical & social causes. Religion seems to have a very slight direct effect on this matter. It is not otherwise with drunkenness & 'crime': these all mainly belong to certain descriptions of men, living under conditions distinctive. The fashions of society change but the deep delimiting facts of society remain. Religion seems to take over & retain them. The sphere of influence left to Religion is that of the character, & there her processes are untraceable. By insensible degrees & imperceptible methods, character affects action, & creates an atmosphere of society: but ex hypothesi these processes do not enter into the critic's reckoning. A comprehensive knowledge of the art, literature, politics, & business procedure of any society might enable a judgement: but where can such be found? Yet we acquiesce slowly & unwillingly in a confession of judicial impotence in front of this imposing & terrible phenomenon of expiring Christianity. For such it is, since all that has been distinctively Christian – beliefs, practices, ecclesiastical systems – is manifestly & rapidly crumbling. But one still clings to the hope that though the Church perish, the Religion may survive: & of religious vitality one can but demand moral indications: and these elude us.

We went to the station, & recovered my lost bag, & then went to the English Church for service. It is a pretty stone church with a rather fine spire. The clergyman, a Cambridge M.A. , was suffering from a bad throat, & his voice cracked in the oddest manner. Bad though his delivery was it was superior to the sermon, a childish paraphrase of the Elijah legend. There was a surpliced choir, which sang execrably: an evil organ & an incompetent organist. I expected better things from a church frequented by the Royal Family of England. However, the service was reverent, which is the main thing after all, and the sermon short.

After lunch we visited the new Glyptothek, which contains some excellent & much indifferent sculpture by modern Swedish & French artists.

I wrote a letter for the Parish Magazine: also a letter to Weller, the Canons' Verger: & after dinner, I wrote also to my churchwarden.

Before turning in, Reichel and I strolled about the city. Large numbers of people were coming off the excursion steamers, & other holiday places: but they were excellently behaved, contrasting very favourably with the Sunday evening crowds one is accustomed to see & hear in England. We were both much impressed by the total absence of rowdyism, & the almost total absence of drunkenness.

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