BOOKS.

THE LIFE OF A BRIGHTON CLERGYMAN.*

SINCE the death of Frederick Robertson, Brighton has been an ecclesiastical close borough. The sagacious Vicar has, no doubt, sanctioned a very pronounced ritualism in several of the churches belonging to his parish, and it may be said that on a Sunday the church-going residents or visitors have no ground of complaint, inasmuch as there are both high and low-level church-lines sup- plied for their accommodation. So far as the style of the " service " is concerned it is quite true that there is in the Brighton churches a delightful and refreshing variety. You have the very solemn and very slow in one place, in another the high-and -dry sprinkled with anthems and female solos, in a third, ritualism in f ull efflorescence, with fault- less copes, altar movements and genuflexions, which reveal the most successful "rhythmic drill," entirely artistic intonations and music, and a finale of most odorous incense. For our own parts, we have frequently given expression to our conviction not only of the law- fulness, but of the desirableness of a varying " use " in all our large towns. It is involved in the very idea of a national church that it shall embrace by its ministrations the whole range of the spiritual sympathies, tastes, and susceptibilities of the nation. And, accordingly, we trust that still greater latitude will characterize the public worship of the English Church of the future. At present, for instance, no let or hindrance is imposed by any authority, lay or clerical, as to the hymns which any congregation may adopt, or the number of hymns which any congregation may sing at a given time. Great in the Church of England is the liberty of praise—a liberty which, like all our other privileges, good Dr. Colenso was fated to convert into a scandal. We should like to witness a similar liberty of prayer. As Bunsen suggested years ago, why should there not be allowance for formal, extempore, and silent outpouring of the heart's deepest aspirations whenever two or three are gathered together? By this permission the Church would secure the alleged or felt advantages which the Liturgist, the Presbyterian, and the Quaker respectively claim for or find in their several modes of worship ; and, indeed, one grand utter- ance in our Prayer-Book, "0 Lord, open thou our lips," seems specially fitted to be the prelude to an extempore prayer, after an interval during which the whole congregation has been silently holding converse with the indwelling Spirit of God. Sup- pose, further, as is the fact in some churches, that to sweet sound there should be added a delicious perfume, there is no a priori objection to its introduction. Of course, we demur in this journal to the special symbolism intended by the Ritualists in their use of incense ; but in itself a beautiful fragrance is as holy as a beautiful sound, and if the former should be desired by any as an aid to faith or devotion, why should its enjoyment not be as legitimate as music is univer- sally? If mere texts are ever of any value, we might quote St. Paul's expression, "A sweet-smelling savour," as an indication at least that a scent may be as acceptable in heaven as a musical note. With the liberties of praise and prayer there must exist in every truly national church the "liberty of prophesying." But it is this third liberty which is wholly lacking in the churches of Brighton now. We do not mean in the least to imply that the many incumbents or perpetual curates in this " Belgravia-super- Mare " do not every Sunday or other preaching day say what they like. They are all, as far as we know, honest and conscientious clergymen. But the truth is, not one of them has anything to say to this nineteenth century. They are all, when in the pulpit, dominated by Simeonism. No doubt, the High Churchmen will be exceeding wroth with us, and some of them might reply, "Do we not proclaim the doctrines of Baptismal Regeneration, Transubstantiation, and the divine institution of the Seven Sacraments?" To this appeal the answer must be given in the affirmative. Nevertheless, our posi- tion is quite unassailable that from end to end of this crowded watering-place all the pulpits are unanimous in the proclamation that Christianity, whether of the high type or of the low, is simply an elaborate means of "safety," and consequently the chief motive addressed to the various congre- gations is the terrors of the world to come.

Of this remarkable mode of presenting the call to a higher life the subject of this memoir was a typical example. Mr. Elliott was a highly respectable clergyman. He was a good son, a good scholar, a good husband, a good father, and a sorrowing widower

* The Life of The Rer. Ileum Fens Elliott, ALA., Perpetual Curate of St. Mary's, Brighton. By Josiah Bateman, M.A. London : Macmillan and Co. for many years. He founded St. Mary's Hall—an institution for the education of the daughters of poor clergyman. He was a

liberal supporter of various charities connected with Brighton.- Rich people courted his society, and his sermons were very accept- able to a considerable number of hearers. Besides being a fellow of Trinity, Cambridge, he was also elected Warburtonian Lecturer,

and more than once special University preacher. On the platform he was a vigorous speaker, and on one occasion got into trouble with the Times for accusing that journal of venality in connection with the opening of the Crystal Palace on Sunday,—.a "clerical error," which the world heard a good deal about at the time, but the final issue of which, we are glad to hear, was a " revenge " to the reverend gentleman, in that his spiritual advice was sought for by the lady of the chief editor of the Times, while the chief proprietor expressed a wish to have as companion to his daughter a young person brought up at St. Mary's Hall under Mr. Elliott's

influence. Mr. Elliott was really a hardworking man, and on the whole was, perhaps, one of the most vigorous intellects the Evangelicals numbered in their ranks. But when we have said this we have said all that has to be said. Why this memoir was published is a mystery we cannot solve. We have read the volume before us most carefully, but from beginning to end there is not a sentence in it expressive of Mr. Elliott's theological opinions which rises above the level of the dull and common-place. All his

views were but specimens, BO to speak, from that astonishing charnel-house which Simeon erected for the benefit of his followers, calling his work by the characteristic name of Skeletons.

We have no feeling towards the memory of this clergyman but that of respect, and we believe that no one will peruse this volume

candidly without sharing in our feeling. But he was nowise a great man, the memoir itself being witness. Our readers will, consequently, not marvel at our bewilderment when, after finish- ing the narrative, we turned again to the opening sentence and read as follows :— " Thero are men in the Church who need no prefix to their names. They are of all schools and of all callings. There is something loving or commanding in their characters which wins affection or inspires confidence. Such, to mention no living names, were John Kahle, William Wilberforce, and Henry Elliott."

It was some alleviation to our startled imagination that we were spared the "living names" in Mr. Bateman's cloud of witnesses, for had these been given, we must have had a whole legion of them,—an abridgment of the Clergy List, to begin with ; and this

roll of clerical worthies of all schools, followed by an enumeration, not less copious, of lay local celebrities of all callings. But, turning from the unnamed living to the dead, we will venture, in the interests of Mr. Elliott's own reputation, to protest against.

his biographer's extravagance or total lack of perception. The names of Keble and Wilberforce belong to the world. The author

of the Christian Year has spoken to the piety of all coming ages of the Church ; and the life and labours of Wilberforce are

essential factors in two great and national movements,—the revival of the spiritual affections at home, and the emancipation of a whole race from slavery. Mr. Elliott, on the other hand, appertains only to Brighton, and his chief work there was superin- tending a young ladies' school. All honour to him for the sympathy with his poorer clerical brethren which first prompted him to undertake the erection of St. Mary's Hall, and for the unwearied zeal and, we might add, quite fatherly care with which, according to his lights, he watched over the culture of the daughters of the Church entrusted to his care. But it only tends to create a mist of prejudice which will hinder us from seeing the worth of a second-rate man, when to him, a merely local light, is ascribed the prominence of a great public luminary.

In 1827, when Mr. Elliott had attained his thirty-fifth year, he became perpetual curate of the proprietary chapel, St. Mary's, which his father purchased for him, and in which he officiated until his death in 1865. Testimonies as to his ministerialworth andusef ulneas both in public and in private are given in this volume from "the ladies," to use Mr. Bateman's own words, from sundry noblemen and gentlemen, from servants and poor widows. Moreover, such men as Julius Hare, Dr. Whewell, who was his brother-in- law, and the present Bishop of London have expressed their regard for his worth. Then, in the day of his great sorrow, when his wife, who was in all respects an admirable woman, was early taken from his side, we ihave two very touching letters of sympathy from Sir James Stephen and Dr. Pusey—the latter a very remarkable utterance indeed. But there are hundreds of men among us who are doing the work that Mr. Elliott did, who are equally entitled to the same respect and confidence which he won for himself, and

whose sorrows would call forth a large measure of condolence. However, there is no special reason why their histories should ever be known beyond the limits of their parishes or the circle of their respective friends. As a rule, the class of men of whom we are speaking are, at best, ecclesiastics; and they have no mes- sage for the earnest and thoughtful spirits among us who are really seeking reconciliation with God in their daily secular life, and are struggling after a faith which will enable them to over- come the difficulties with which that life is surrounded. And, consequently, a biography like that before us, if taken up by honest men of the world, is looked at as a curious phenomenon, which is sundered by a great gulf from the realities which they feel that they encounter at every step. Once in a century, however, if so often, there appears among us a preacher whose words have power to touch the deepest chords of our human nature,—one who is at once poet, prophet, priest, teacher, and, withal, a man. Such a great benefactor to the world at large was given to us in Frederick Robertson. He lived and preached in the same town with Mr. Elliott. His name has travelled over the world, and will be dear, we cannot doubt, to the hearts of all noble Englishmen for many generations to come ; but, as a very suggestive and significant fact, it is never once men- tioned in this volume.

Before closing our article, there are one or two sentences which must be added. And first of all, we must enter our protest against the quite off-hand and jaunty style in which Mr. Bateman has deeemed it lawful and right to indulge. He often reminds us of the "young man from 'Omerton," of whom, on one grand occasion, Mr. Tozer remarked that "he had made an 'it." Thus, in page 175, our biographer writes :—" In July Mr. Elliott de- scribes a visit to his friend Henry Blunt, formerly in Chelsea, then of Streatham—and now in heaven." Language like this is ultra-Ebenezerism. It is at once presumptuous and utterly hollow. It savours to us of the degrading familiarities of spirit- rapping. In Christ's great words, all the dead live unto God ; and from t.11 that we know of Henry Blunt, be lived very much "in heaven" both at Chelsea and at Streatham. But, according to Mr. Bateman, the kingdom of heaven is not among us, but may be a very great way off indeed. For ourselves, we prefer St. Paul to Mr. Bateman, and we must believe that a good deal of profaneness would vanish from our lives if we were to sympathize with the great Apostle when he tells us that we really belong as men to the heavenly or spiritual world now. We must also say that Mr. Bateman's refer- ences to Mr. Elliott's jokes, which are mainly jocular allusions to Scripture, are entirely injudicious. It is satisfactory always to turn from Mr. Bateman to Mr. Elliott himself. We like Mr. Elliott's accounts of his early travels in Greece and Palestine, and we were much struck by two reminiscences of a visit he paid to Scotland in 1820. He went to spend a Sunday

in Glasgow, to hear Dr. Chalmers. Chalmers did not preach. But, writes a friend, he seemed to think himself no loser when a young man stood up in the pulpit whose appearance was particularly striking,—" with the front of Jove," he said,—" and who gave them a sermon of surpassing power and eloquence." The young man was Edward Irving. This appre- ciation of the unknown Irving far outweighs to us all that Mr. Bateman says of Mr. Elliott.

The other jotting from the sojourn in Scotland is of a somewhat curious kind. Mr. Elliott was introduced to Sir Walter Scott, and he passed an evening with the great novelist. This was in 1820. Sir Walter, as is well known, did not openly avow himself to be the author of the TVaverley Novels until 1827 ; but seven years before, when the secret was by many not even sus- pected, Mr. Elliott writes, "The next new novel will pass muster as a proof of his sanity and vigour of mind. Its title, I prognosti- cate, will be the Pirate." This prognostication of Mr. Elliott, uttered as it was before the appearance of the letters of Mr. Adolphus on the authorship of Waverley, is very remarkable, unless by some inadvertent statement on somebody's part he was admitted within the veil.

Again, an Irish anecdote is too good not to be reported. After addressing a class of ragged children in one of the (then) Hiber- nian schools on the parable of the Talents, Mr. Elliott said to a little girl, "My child, what talent have you to improve ? " Her answer was, "My poverty, Sir."

In conclusion, we believe our readers will be interested in learning, as we ourselves did for the first time from this memoir, that the two very popular hymns, "Just as lam," and "Thy will be done," were the composition of a sister of Mr. Elliott.