A New Medley of MemoriesHunter Blair, David Oswald, Sir
Religion
A New Medley of Memories
Hunter Blair, David Oswald, Sir
Hunter Blair, David Oswald, Sir, 1853-1939
[20] Verse 4. "Filii tui sicut noveliæ olivarum, in circuitu mensæ
tuæ."
{19}
CHAPTER II
1904
Abbot Gasquet, who had many friends in Oxford, was much in residence
there during the summer of 1904, as he was giving the weekly
conferences to our undergraduates. His host, Mgr. Kennard, usually
asked me to dinner on Sundays, "to keep the Abbot going," which
released me from the chilly collation (cold mutton and cold rhubarb
pie), the orthodox Sabbath evening fare in so many households.[1] I
recall the lovely Sundays of this summer term, and the crowds of
peripatetic dons and clerics in the parks and on the river bank: many
of them, I fancy, the serious-minded persons who would have thought it
their duty, a year previously, to attend the afternoon university
sermon, lately abolished. The afternoon discourse had come to be
allotted to the second-rate preachers; and I had heard of a clergyman
who, when charged with walking in the country instead of attending at
St. Mary's, defended himself by saying that he preferred "sermons from
stones" to sermons from "sticks!"[2]
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The biggest clerical gathering I ever saw in Oxford was on a bright May
afternoon in 1904, when hundreds of parsons were whipped up from the
country to oppose the abolition of the statute restricting the
honour-theology examinerships to clergymen. Scores of black-coats were
hanging about the Clarendon Buildings, waiting to go in and vote; and
they "boo'd" and cat-called in the theatre, refusing to let their
opponents be heard. They carried their point by an enormous
majority.[3]
Kennard took me to London, on another day in May, to see the
Academy--some astonishing Sargents, Mrs. Wertheimer all in black, with
diamonds which made you wink, and the Duchess of Sutherland in arsenic
green, painted against a background of dewy magnolia-leaves,
extraordinarily vivid and brilliant. I was at Blenheim a few days
later, and admired there (besides the wonderful tapestries and a
roomful of Reynolds's) two striking portraits--one by Helleu, the other
by Carolus-Duran--of the young American Duchess of Marlborough.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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