EGYPT, GREECE, AND TURKEY- 1888 -1889 429 



visiting the scenes made beautiful to me by Walter Scott, 

 I was at last able to think of something beside the sor 

 row and disappointment which had beset me. Memorable 

 to me still is a sermon heard .at the old Church of St. 

 Giles, in Edinburgh. The text was, &quot;He wist not that 

 his face shone, &quot; and the argument, while broad and lib 

 eral, was deeply religious. One thought struck me for 

 cibly. The preacher likened theological controversies to 

 storms on the coast which result only in heaps of sand, 

 while he compared religious influences to the dew and 

 gentle rains which beautify the earth and fructify it. 



Healing in their influences upon me were visits to the 

 cathedral towns between Edinburgh and London. The 

 atmosphere of Durham, York, Lincoln, Ely, Peter 

 borough, aided to lift me out of my depression. In each 

 I stayed long enough to attend the cathedral service 

 and to enjoy the architecture, the music, and my recol 

 lections of previous visits. At Lichfield Cathedral I 

 heard Bach s &quot;Easter Hymn&quot; given beautifully, and 

 it was needed to make up for the sermon of a colonial 

 bishop who, having returned to England after a long 

 stay in his remote diocese, was fearfully depressed by 

 the liberal tendencies of English theology. His discourse 

 was one long diatribe against the tendency in England 

 toward broad-churchmanship. One passage had rather 

 a comical effect. He told, pathetically, the story of a 

 servant-girl waiting on the table of the late Archbishop 

 of Canterbury, who, after hearing the clergymen present 

 dealing somewhat freely with the doctrine of the Trin 

 ity, rushed out into the passage and recited loudly the 

 Nicene Creed to strengthen her faith. I, too, felt the 

 need of doing something to strengthen mine after this 

 tirade, and fortunately strolled across the meadows to 

 the little Church of St. Chad, and there took part in a 

 lovely &quot;Flower Service,&quot; ended by a very sweet, kindly 

 sermon to the children from the fatherly old rector of 

 the parish. Nothing could be better in its way, and it 

 took the taste of the morning sermon out of my mouth. 



