school. The Vicar consented, and the arrangement worked smoothly for
some years. One day, later, a member rose, and inquired if the
children were receiving religious instruction. "Yes," I said. "Are the
children taught science?" "Yes," again. "Well," said he, "how do you
reconcile the fact, when religion and science are not in agreement?"
Fortunately, I had been lately taking a course of Darwin, and I was
able to refer him to the concluding lines of the _Origin of Species_.
We debated the matter with some energy, but having made his protest,
the member was satisfied to let the matter drop.

All went well thereafter until we were settled in the new building,
and Vicar No. 3 was in possession of the living. He was young and
inexperienced in the conduct of a parish, and was imbued with ideas of
what he considered a more ornate and elaborate form of worship.
Innovations followed--lighted candles over the altar and the
appointment of a Server at the Communion Service. Almost immediately I
heard objections from the villagers; they could not understand the
necessity for a couple of dim candles in a church on a summer day,
when the whole world outside was ablaze with the glory of the sun.

A member arose at a Board meeting, and began: "Mr. Chairman, I wish to
draw the attention of the Board to the question of religious
instruction in the school, for I reckon that our children are being
taught a lot of Popery." I could see that he had been in consultation
with other members of the Board, and that he had a majority behind
him. I tried hard to smooth matters over, but they had made up their
minds, and he carried his resolution that, in future, the new Vicar
should be authorized to enter the school for the purpose of religious
instruction only one day a week! I think this small indulgence was
accorded only as a result of my efforts in his favour, though I was by