Four Years in France: or, Narrative of an English Family's Residence there during that Period; Preceded by some Account of the Conversion of the Author to the Catholic FaithBeste, Henry Digby
Religion
Four Years in France: or, Narrative of an English Family's Residence there during that Period; Preceded by some Account of the Conversion of the Author to the Catholic Faith
Beste, Henry Digby
France -- Description and travel
I waited. During this time a violent inflammation in my eyes (a
complaint to which I had been often subject, and which will, I fear, in
its consequences, finally deprive me of sight,) confined me to the
house, and prevented me from reading for some weeks. Deprived of the use
of books, at all times my chief employment and consolation, and
compelled to occupy myself with my own thoughts, I passed in review the
topics by which men are usually induced to devote themselves to the more
immediate service of God. My education, whatever may have been its
influence on my virtue, had been regular, monkish even, if any one
please to call it so: the feeling of piety had never been entirely
renounced by me; and I now easily brought myself to entertain the hope
that, by entering into the ecclesiastical state, I might be of some use
to the cause of religion. The first day that my eye-sight was restored
to me, I wrote to the president of Magdalen College, then bishop of
Norwich, requesting to be admitted as a candidate for deacon's orders at
the next ordination in September.
The same motives which influenced me to this step, induced me also,
three months afterwards, to take the curacy of a large parish in
Lincoln; to engage, that is, to do the duties of him _qui curat_, as far
as my inferior degree of deacon permitted. The stipend, about one fifth
of the wages of an able mechanic, was known to be no object with me: I
had an income more than sufficient for my wants as a single man, and,
besides, lived in the house of my mother. As usual, in similar cases,
some applauded my zeal, while others laughed at it.
Within a few months, a fellowship became vacant on my county. I went up
to college to pronounce my probationary oration. In this discourse,
enumerating the former worthies of the house, I commended our
predecessors at the time of the Reformation for having been of the
number of those who did not wish that reformation to be
excessive--_nimia_ was the word; and of those who did not think, "the
further from Rome, the nearer to truth." The orator, on this occasion,
is introduced between the first and second course of the grand dinner of
the 22d of July; his voice may be clear as his stomach is empty: his
task completed, he is placed at the right hand of him who presides at
the "strangers' table," ranged down the middle of the hall, and is
served with the first slice of the haunch of venison. I took the place
reserved for me; and not perceiving that my high church sentiments had
displeased any of my auditors, found the second course of a public
dinner, under such glorious and hopeful circumstances, an ample amends
for being excluded from the first.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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