We could not wholly regret the incident, for
as we recalled the like operation of religion in churches of our
Italian travel, we were reminded how equally authoritative the
Church of England and the Church of Home were, and how little
they adjust their ceremonial to the individual, how largely to
the collective worshipper. You could come into the Minster of
York as into the basilica of St. Mark at Venice for a silent
prayer amid the religious influences of the place, and be
conscious of your oneness with your Source, as if there were no
other one; but when the priesthood called you as one of many to
your devotions, it was with the same imperative voice in both,
and you must obey or be cut off from your chance. I suppose it is
right; but somehow the down-clashing of that screen of the choir
in the Minster at York seemed to exclude us with reproach, almost
with ignominy.
[Illustration: YORK MINSTER--THE GRANDEST IN ALL ENGLAND]
We did what we could to repair our wounded self respect, and did
not lay our exclusion up against the Minster itself, which I find
that I noted as "scatteringly noble outside.
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