MEMBERSHIP IN THE EPISCOPAL CHURCH.

The longing for a religious home asserted itself in Miss Larcom’s life, and the thought came to her that she was not testifying to her deep love for her Master, by withholding herself from active membership in some Church of Christ. In her diary, where she wrote with great freedom her inmost feelings, there are passages which indicate discontent with her negative position. She was being forced to a conclusion:—

“I must decide for myself whether the Church is a reality to me; whether, in the visible Church, working for it, and with it, I can be more useful than I should be, floating on still, trying to accommodate myself to circumstances, and to harmonize myself with the best in everything, without any special ties. Having lived outside the Church so long, I have a great longing for a closer sympathy and working together with others. But whether it can be with my old Congregational friends, I am not certain. It would be better to stay with them, identified with their name and work, if I can do it from my heart, but not if I am called upon to say anything that I do not believe.”

While in this state of uncertainty, the Church was gradually making its way into her life. She looked forward to each Sunday, with eagerness; and the message from the day’s sermon she either put in her diary, or conveyed, by means of letters, to her little crippled friend, Elsie L——.

The Church-Year, with its sacred anniversaries, became very dear to her. In her diary, there is a record referring to Passion Week, that shows her appreciation of these Church days: “I think it most beautiful to keep these memorial days of the Church, whether we belong to the Episcopal Church or any other. These are the days for all Christians to observe.”

April 8, Good Friday. Passion Week has been a revelation to me of the divine history made real. It has seemed to me as if I really followed and faltered with the disciples, in Gethsemane, at the mock trial of Pilate, and through the terrible scenes of the Crucifixion. It is so much to the world, that the Church has kept up the Christian year, with these awful and glorious anniversaries. How often their reality has faded out, when men are left to themselves.

I could thank the Church, almost, for having impressed them so upon her history, that they sometimes seem hardened into it! She has never let them become mere idle tales; the life and death of Christ, held so close to her heart, have kept her alive, through all her formalisms.

In the worship, the part taken by the congregation, in responsive readings, prayers, versicles, and Litany, appealed to her. She felt that she was not being preached at through the disguise of a prayer, but that all—minister and people—joined in the praises to God, each with a phrase on his lips and a meditation in his heart. The dignity and orderly arrangement of the services, together with the use of the stately words of the Prayer Book, made her appreciate the beautiful formality of such devotional customs.

Her affections were strengthened by an act which seemed to open a new set of experiences to her. This act was the partaking of the Holy Communion early on Easter Day, in 1887. Mr. Brooks had given notice, inviting to the Lord’s Supper any persons who might desire to come, though they belonged to some other branch of the Church of Christ. A friend of Miss Larcom urged her to accept the invitation. The generosity of it fascinated her; the thought of all who loved Jesus, loving Him perhaps in different ways, meeting around the Father’s table, was in thorough accord with her own feelings. Going to the service, and taking her place at the altar rail, she received the bread and wine administered in the reverent manner of the Episcopal Church. This one act, in the early morning of Easter day, revealed to her the spiritual meaning of the worship, and seemed to bring her in closest touch with the Master; and afterwards the Church became a different place to her; she was becoming one with it, though she yet had no right to call herself a member. Referring to this Communion, she said, “How free the Lord’s table ought to be! and how beautiful it was at that early Communion; the church fragrant and fresh, and glowing with flowers! It seemed like meeting Christ with Mary in the Garden, just as he had risen from the Grave! I do think the Communion service of the church most inreaching and uplifting in its earnestness, its simplicity, its spirituality.”

“As I remember this service in the Congregational church, that method seems almost formal in comparison with this. Perhaps there is something in the very movement required,—the person going forward to the table to share the bread and wine, each with the rest, yet each of us receiving them directly from Christ—His own life, to be transfused into ours. There is certainly a clearer meaning in it all to me, whenever I join in the service at Trinity Church.

“The crowd in the church afterwards, who came to the later services and sermon, was also most impressive, filling in even every smallest space in the chancel, among the flowers. The sermon was strong and deep, impressing the thought that life is the one reality, and death and sorrow and sin only partial experiences. Life the ocean, and all these things but ripples on the surface.

“The last thought for the day,—in the evening,—was that injustice never does triumph, however it may seem.”

April 22. Emeline’s birthday,—the dearest of my sisters—more than a mother to me—now three-score and ten. But I live my child-life over again with her, and our two lives make a glad harmony all through. How much shall we keep of ourselves and our human relations, forever? All that has been real, surely. And so we are mature women and little children together, at once, in the immortal life.

The past week has been one of rather unpleasant experiences, in some ways. The Beverly Farms bribery investigation at the State House has occupied me. Whether bribery or not, great injustice is attempted on my native town, which I love and will defend, so long as I know her to be unmistakably in the right, as she is now.

I have done the little I could, so far; have written for the newspapers,—have sent a letter of request for veto to the governor,—and joined the women of Beverly in a petition to him, to the same effect, and I shall hold myself ready to do more, if needed. But I do trust that our legislature will, of themselves, make the matter right.

April 25. Spring is in the air, even in Boston, although just a week ago to-day we had one of the worst snowstorms of the season.

Yesterday’s experience is something not to be forgotten, though unrecordable. There are no words to repeat the spirit’s story, when it is taken possession of by the highest influences, and lifted up into the heaven of aspiration and consecration; when the way is open through sympathy with human souls, and with the Eternal Son, into the Father’s heart.

How easy the spiritual life seems, when material things fall into their subordinate places! If it might always be so!

May 20. Still in Boston, interested in many things. People are trying to help each other. I have been at the Woman’s Industrial Union, have heard Miss Leigh talk of her work in Paris, have talked over the possibilities of better influences for girl-workers in Boston, have listened to Miss Freeman’s report of her Student’s Aid work at Wellesley College—all so suggestive—so hopeful! What should not the woman of the future be? What may she not be?

“I saw all women of our race

Revealed in that one woman’s face!”

June 6. Canon Wilberforce and the great temperance meeting at Tremont Temple. A most eloquent man, and he goes to the very root of the matter,—no real temperance without spirituality. “Not drunken with wine, but filled with the Holy Ghost,”—he made that infinite contrast clear. His sermon yesterday was most impressive,—from the text, “What seest thou?” It was a Trinity Sunday sermon, and the thought was that in Jesus we see God most perfectly. But emphasis was placed upon the attitude and condition of the soul, for the seeing. It was Canon Wilberforce’s first sermon in Boston, and I think this is his first visit to America. It is good to have such neighbors come to see us.

In the afternoon Mr. Brooks spoke from the text, “He that hath the Son hath life.” I have seldom heard him speak with more fervor, of what life is, and of the dreadful thing it is to lack life, the life that comes to us and is in us through Christ,—the life of God in human souls. It is his last sermon for the summer, and the text itself is one to keep close at heart all through the year. “Not merely the knowledge of Christ, but Christ Himself with us, we must have,” he said: and with the thought comes the suggestion of all true relations of spirit with spirit, the human and the divine interblended, God the soul of our souls and the children one with the Father through the Son. I thank God for what I have found at Trinity Church this winter: I begin to know more what the true Church is,—nothing exclusive or separating, but the coming together of all souls in Christ.

June 12. In Beverly, but not yet acclimated to the stronger sweep of the east winds. They give rheumatic twinges. But the birds sing, and the fresh foliage is shaken out into greenness, the rose acacia and the bridal-wreath spirea run wild in the garden, and the freedom of nature’s life revives mine. The thrill of the oriole,—what a jubilation it is, through the Sabbath stillness; it is better than the city in summer time.

Read this morning Phillips Brooks’ sermon on “Visions” and “Tasks,” and several others—among them, the “Church of the Living God.”

With reference to doctrines, she understood the Church’s position. The great facts of Christianity as set forth in the Apostles Creed, she did not doubt; and she liked the comprehensiveness of a Church, admitting those who accept these facts and desire to live a Christian life, and permitting a private opinion on many complicated questions of theology. And yet, with her appreciation for the Church, she could not make up her mind to enter it. There were objections difficult for her to overcome.

These objections were not of a devotional or theological, but of an ecclesiastical character. High-Churchism, including in that term Sacerdotalism, offered a barrier. She felt that, by joining the Church, she would seem to approve of this teaching, and while she was willing to admit the historical fact of Apostolical continuity, she could not accept a theory of Apostolical succession which in any way seemed to exclude from good standing, as Churches, the various religious denominations which she had known and loved. She said, “In the broad idea of Christ’s Church, Episcopacy at times seems to me no less sectarian than other ‘isms.’” She had too much of the Puritan in her to make any such admissions about the Episcopal Church that would seem to indicate that she felt it was the only Church. Her position, as late as 1890, is very well put, in a letter to Mrs. S. I. Spalding, of Newburyport.

“I do feel nearer a conclusion, such as you would approve, than I ever have yet. I think, sometimes, I can see my way perfectly clear, but old notions are hard to change. Do you think I can take all the Puritanism implied in ‘A New England Girlhood,’ into the Church with me? Is it possible to be inside the latter, and yet feel that all the others are Churches, too, and that I am only signifying that I want to be more completely in union with them all, by identifying myself with this one? This is the way I should want to feel and do.”

By means of letters and conversations with Mr. Brooks, she saw that it was not necessary for her to give up all her Puritanism, on coming into the Church, nor was she bound to accept the interpretation that some Episcopalians put upon the Sacraments or Orders in the ministry. She learned that the difficulties she was considering were dispelled by the conception of the comprehensiveness of the Church. Mr. Brooks wrote her, concerning a discussion in the Church papers, in which Sacerdotalism was especially rampant: “There is nothing in it, which is not now repeated for the hundredth time. The solution of it all is in the comprehensiveness of the Church, which includes the vast expanse both of breadth and narrowness.” In March, 1890, she came to the end of her discussions, and seemed to see the true meaning of the Episcopal Church, as one method of entering the larger Invisible Church of Christ. She preferred this path to others, but looked upon it as a path, not the end of the journey.

March 1, 1890. The same questionings,—yet a clearer light upon the meaning of the Church has gradually come to me. It is as if there were many doors of entrance into one vast temple, some of them opened a little way, and with much scrutiny from within of applicants for admission; some swung wide with welcome. But there is one united worship inside, only some prefer to group themselves in cloisters or corners; but there is freedom and light for all who will receive them.

The Episcopal Church seems to have several doors of its own,—some wide and some narrow; it is not the Church,—only one way of entering Christ’s Church. If I can enter it that way, I am already there. And I believe more positively than ever, that we should say, in some distinct, personal way, that Christ is the centre and head of humanity, and that our whole life, earthly and heavenly, is hid in Him.

What belongs to me in Puritanism I shall never lay aside; I could not, if I would. But I do see more of a hope for future unity in the Church service than in any other way; and if I can see therein for myself the perfect freedom of Christ’s service, I am ready to make a new profession there. I am waiting only for His guidance, now.I see more and more how much the writings of Maurice have been to me for the past twenty years. He is continually unfolding my own thoughts to me,—his absolute sincerity is contagious. I want no pretenses, no subterfuges or concessions in the spiritual life. He speaks to me more clearly than almost any audible voice. And his words seem the expression of the mind of Christ.

March 5. My birthday. And the world seems as if it were dimly dawning anew to me. Everything in my life has taken a touch of awe,—of strangeness.

I do not know that there is any new gladness in the decision I made yesterday, to be “confirmed” at Trinity Church, but there is a settled feeling that may grow into happiness. I can say that my “heart is fixed,” and my life will be firmer and more settled, for having found a place for itself. The church itself seemed a different and more beautiful place, as I sat there and listened to the story of the Woman of Samaria, and of the separateness of souls in consecrated work. “Meat to eat that ye know not of,” the doing of God’s will,—the hidden manna and the white stone, with the new name known only to him who receives it. Yes, this one little decision has opened closed doors to me already—everything looks sacred.

March 20. Last night I knelt in the chancel at Trinity Church, and received, with many others, the benediction of consecrated hands; and to-day I can think of myself as avowedly in the visible Church once more. I have been in a false position all these years,—I see it now. It does mean something to name the name of Christ in the presence of His people, as one of their company. I have not been an unbeliever, ever; He has been dear to me always, and most real to my heart.

It was tranquillizing, to be bending there with all that young life,—(no other older life), the snow falling without, soft and white as doves’ wings, and the quiet consecration filling all hearts within. I was not wholly happy; I have had too many struggles with myself, and misapprehension between my own heart and others, perhaps, to feel glad or uplifted,—but I was calm and thankful, and felt the atmosphere of blessing surrounding us all.

It is good to have taken this position; I shall feel stronger and richer in life and spirit for it, I trust and believe.

The few words of Mr. Brooks this morning at the church seemed to carry out the spirit of last night’s service. We climb up the great mountain-tops, he said, but we cannot live there, though we may keep their inspiration within us. But the high table-lands which we have gained by long gradual ascent,—we can live and breathe there; and can grow hopeful in the broad outlook before us. Such are the consecrations of life to which we have grown step by step, out of which greater developments are to open for us, and above which the loftier summits are always overhanging.

March 26. The thought that has been with me most these few days is that consecration means service: that it is not for one’s self alone,—not the mere endeavor after personal holiness,—but to give the life into which we enter to all other lives we can reach. (John xvii. 18, 19.) The spirit of these words of Christ is the true setting apart of life, for the sake of all human lives.

The chapter for to-day—the going forth of Joshua into Canaan after that glorious Nebo-Vision of Moses, is full of suggestions for me. I have not yet possessed my whole life, none of us have, but we go forward courageously into it, in the name of the Lord.

We have sketched, chiefly in her own words, for they have a greater significance, the history of a religious woman, finding her way into the Kingdom of Christ through the doorway of the Episcopal Church. She was a catholic, broad-minded Christian, and she became satisfied with the doctrine and worship of the Church. She looked upon it as one branch of the Church of God, but she also acknowledged other branches; it became as much a home to her as it was possible for any Church to be. She grew to love it, but the ideal and Invisible Church was ever before her mind.

The religious history of her life is like that of many others—those who have become dissatisfied with a theology made up of men’s opinions, and who seek light and life in the personality of Jesus. There are many persons to-day, with natures capable of spiritual insight, who have been educated to appreciate the best in our literature, who believe in righteousness,—people with poetry in them, and a delicate sense of fitness and dignity, who are thinking of the Episcopal Church as a religious home. To such persons, a progress similar to that of Miss Larcom can be effected only by the Church emphasizing those qualities which attracted her. These characteristics of the Church may be summarized as the spirituality, the breadth, and the magnanimity of the Church.

Prominent through all the services, the various organized forms of church work, the observances of festivals and seasons, must be the spiritual idea for which they all stand. This spiritual idea is the bringing of the individual soul into such relations with Jesus that it will find its truest self in Him and through Him, find its greatest activity in reaching other souls. This great aim is frequently lost sight of, because the Churches are so often business establishments for the collection of money, and the successful management of organizations. But there are souls longing to be fed, and these should be remembered when the church seasons come, by the administration of Sacraments as the simple offering of nourishment to those who need it, not with the theological accompaniments of argument, but in the sacredness of dependence on Christ, as in the first Easter communion of Lucy Larcom, at Trinity Church.

There is no need to elaborate the ideas of the breadth, or magnanimity of the Church; for, in this day of vigorous thought and reconstruction of older doctrines, both of these characteristics would seem to commend themselves, on their simple announcement: for who is it that longs for the narrowness of a “Westminster Confession” or even the mild bondage of “The Thirty-Nine Articles”? And who is it that has sufficient effrontery to un-church the millions who are trying in their own ways to serve their Lord? That there is such narrowness in the Episcopal Church no one can deny; it is in opposition to this that it must present itself to the world, as a comprehensive and tolerant Church.

Lucy Larcom, a Puritan, seized upon the vital truths of the Episcopal Church. If these are kept before the people, this Church, as a part of the kingdom of Christ, may hope to have a large influence in the development of American Christianity.