Forest of Rossendale. 171 



one of those individuals, whose consciences, being somewhat 

 elastic, are disinclined to interpret, in their strictest sense, the 

 clauses of the fourth commandment : and are willing to favour the 

 notion which obtains with a large number even at the present day, 

 that the serious business of the Sabbath terminates with the service, 

 and need only be resumed when the hour of prayer returns. It 

 was his wont on favourable occasions — so runs the story — on pass- 

 ing the portals of the church at the close of the service, to dip his 

 hand into the capacious pocket of his great coat, and draw from 

 thence a football, and giving it a vigorous kick, would send it 

 spinning into the air, across the churchyard, and over the wall 

 into the adjoining field — when the youth of the village, emulating 

 the example of their pastor, would hasten away in pursuit with all 

 the impetuosity of youthful vigour. (/) 



(t) On the publication of the first edition of this work, a correspondent 

 wrote censuring me for relating this incident. Whether true or not, I am, of 

 course, unable, personally, to vouch ; but certainly 1 learnt the tradition from 

 more than one source. In any case I did not tell the story in disparagement 

 of the reverend gentleman, but the contrary. The manners of the times, 

 though not less genuine, were not as straight-laced as those of subsequent 

 days. Possibly the basis of the story may be found in some such custom as 

 is narrated in a delightful book— dear to readers of scholarly tastes : 



" A singular usage, long perpetuated itself at Auxere. On Easter Day the 

 canons, in the very centre of the great church, played solemnly at ball. 

 Vespers being sung, instead of conducting the bishop to his palace, they 

 proceeded in order into the nave, the people standing in two long rows to 

 watch. Girding up their skirts a little way, the whole body of clerics awaited 

 their turn in silence, while the captain of the singing boys cast the ball into 

 the air, as high as he might, along the vaulted roof of the central aisle to be 

 caught by any boy who could, and tossed again with hand or foot till it passed 

 on to the portly chanters, the chaplains, the canons themselves, who finally 

 played out the game with all the decorum of an ecclesiastical ceremony. It 

 was just then, just as the canons took the ball to themselves so gravely, that 

 Denys— Denys I'Auxerrois, as he was afterwards called -appeared for the 

 first time. Leaping in among the timid children he made the thing really a 

 game. The boys played like boys, the men almost like madmen, and all with 

 a delightful glee which became contagious, first in the clerical body, and then 

 among the spectators. The aged Dean of the Chapter, Protonotary of his 



