I drew near houses; I left them, and came back again, and again I wandered away: always repelled by the consciousness of having no claim to ask--no right to expect interest in my isolated lot. Meantime, the afternoon advanced, while I thus wandered about like a lost and starving dog. In crossing a field, I saw the church spire before me: I hastened towards it. Near the churchyard, and in the middle of a garden, stood a well-built though small house, which I had no doubt was the parsonage. I remembered that strangers who arrive at a place where they have no friends, and who want employment, sometimes apply to the clergyman for introduction and aid. It is the clergyman's function to help--at least with advice--those who wished to help themselves. I seemed to have something like a right to seek counsel here. Renewing then my courage, and gathering my feeble remains of strength, I pushed on. I reached the house, and knocked at the kitchen-door. An old woman opened: I asked was this the parsonage?
The fact that the Church, as led first by John Knox and afterwards by Andrew Melville, claimed an inherent right to exercise a spiritual jurisdiction is notorious. More apt to be overlooked is the comparative freedom with which that right was actually used by the church irrespective of state recognition. That recognition was not given until after the queen's resignation in 1567;[2] but, for several years before it came, the church had been holding her Assemblies and settling all questions of discipline, worship, and administration as they arose, in accordance with the first book of polity or discipline which had been drawn up in 1560. Further, in 1581 she, of her own motion, adopted a second book of a similar character, in which she expressly claimed an independent and exclusive jurisdiction or power in all matters ecclesiastical, "which flows directly from God and the Mediator Jesus Christ, and is spiritual, not having a temporal head on earth, but only Christ, the only king and governor of his church"; and this claim, though directly negatived in 1584 by the "Black Acts," which included an Act of Supremacy over estates spiritual and temporal, continued to be asserted by the Assemblies, until at last it also was practically allowed in the act of 1592.[3] This legislation of 1592, however, did not long remain in force. An act of parliament in 1606, which "reponed, restored and reintegrated" the estate of bishops to their ancient dignities, prerogatives and privileges, was followed by several acts of various subservient assemblies, which, culminating in that of 1618, practically amounted to a complete surrender of jurisdiction by the church itself. For twenty years no Assemblies whatever were held. This interval must necessarily be regarded from the Presbyterian point of view as having been one of very deep depression. But a second reformation, characterized by great energy and vigour, began in 1638. The proceedings of the Assembly of that year, afterwards tardily and reluctantly acquiesced in by the state, finally issued in the acts of parliament of 1649, by which the Westminster standards were ratified, lay-patronage was abolished, and the coronation oath itself framed in accordance with the principles of Presbyterian church government. Another period of intense reaction soon set in. No Assemblies were permitted by Cromwell after 1653; and, soon after the Restoration, Presbytery was temporarily overthrown by a series of rescissory acts. Nor was the Revolution Settlement of 1690 so entirely favourable to the freedom of the church as the legislation of 1649 had been. Prelacy was abolished, and various obnoxious statutes were repealed, but the acts rescissory were not cancelled; presbyterianism was re-established, but the statutory recognition of the Confession of Faith took no notice of certain qualifications under which that document had originally been approved by the Assembly of 1647;[4] the old rights of patrons were again discontinued, but the large powers which had been conferred on congregations by the act of 1649 were not wholly restored. Nevertheless the great principle of a distinct ecclesiastical jurisdiction, embodied in the Confession of Faith, was accepted without reservation, and a Presbyterian polity effectively confirmed both then and at the ratification of the treaty of Union. This settlement, however, did not long subsist unimpaired. In 1712 the act of Queen Anne, restoring patronage to its ancient footing, was passed in spite of the earnest remonstrances of the Scottish people. For many years afterwards (until 1784) the Assembly continued to instruct each succeeding commission to make application to the king and the parliament for redress of the grievance. But meanwhile a new phase of Scottish ecclesiastical politics commonly known as Moderatism had been inaugurated, during the prevalence of which the church became even more indifferent than the lay patrons themselves to the rights of her congregations with regard to the "calling" of ministers. From the Free Church point of view, the period from which the secessions under Ebenezer Erskine and Thomas Gillespie are dated was also characterized by numerous other abuses on the Church's part which amounted to a practical surrender of the most important and distinctive principles of her ancient Presbyterian polity.[5] Towards the beginning of the present century there were many circumstances, both within and without the church, which conspired to bring about an evangelical and popular reaction against this reign of "Moderatism." The result was a protracted struggle, which is commonly referred to as the Ten Years' Conflict, and which has been aptly described as the last battle in the long war which for nearly 300 years had been waged within the church itself, between the friends and the foes of the doctrine of an exclusive ecclesiastical jurisdiction. That final struggle may be said to have begun with the passing in 1834 of the "Veto" Act, by which it was declared to be a fundamental law of the church that no pastor should be intruded on a congregation contrary to the will of the people,[6] and by which it was provided that the simple dissent of a majority of heads of families in a parish should be enough to warrant a presbytery in rejecting a presentee. The question of the legality of this measure soon came to be tried in the civil courts; and it was ultimately answered in a sense unfavourable to the church by the decision (1838) of the court of session in the Auchterarder case, to the effect that a presbytery had no right to reject a presentee simply because the parishioners protested against his settlement, but was bound to disregard the veto (see CHALMERS, THOMAS). This decision elicited from the Assembly of that year a new declaration of the doctrine of the spiritual independence of the church. The "exclusive jurisdiction of the civil courts in regard to the civil rights and emoluments secured by law to the church and the ministers thereof" was acknowledged without qualification; and continued implicit obedience to their decisions with reference to these rights and emoluments was pledged. At the same time it was insisted on "that, as is declared in the Confession of Faith of this National Established Church, 'the Lord Jesus Christ, as King and Head of the church, hath therein appointed a government in the hand of church officers distinct from the civil magistrate'; and that in all matters touching the doctrine, discipline and government of the church her judicatories possess an exclusive jurisdiction, founded on the Word of God, which power ecclesiastical" (in the words of the Second Book of Discipline) "flows immediately from God and the Mediator the Lord Jesus Christ, and is spiritual, not having a temporal head on earth, but only Christ, the only spiritual King and Governor of His Kirk." And it was resolved to assert, and at all hazards defend, this spiritual jurisdiction, and firmly to enforce obedience to the same upon the office-bearers and members of the church. The decision of the court of session having been confirmed by the House of Lords early in 1839, it was decided in the Assembly of that year that the church, while acquiescing in the loss of the temporalities at Auchterarder, should reaffirm the principle of non-intrusion as an integral part of the constitution of the Reformed Church of Scotland, and that a committee should be appointed to confer with the government with a view to the prevention, if possible, of any further collision between the civil and ecclesiastical authorities. While the conference with the government had no better result than an unsuccessful attempt at compromise by means of Lord Aberdeen's Bill, which embodied the principle of a dissent with reasons, still graver complications were arising out of the Marnoch and other cases.[7] In the circumstances it was resolved by the Assembly of 1842 to transmit to the queen, by the hands of the lord high commissioner, a "claim, declaration, and protest," complaining of the encroachments of the court of session,[8] and also an address praying for the abolition of patronage. The home secretary's answer (received in January 1843) gave no hope of redress. Meanwhile the position of the evangelical party had been further hampered by the decision of the court of session declaring the ministers of chapels of ease to be unqualified to sit in any church court. A final appeal to parliament by petition was made in March 1843, when, by a majority of 135 (211 against 76), the House of Commons declined to attempt any redress of the grievances of the Scottish Church.[9] At the first session of the following General Assembly (18th May 1843) the reply of the non-intrusion party was made in a protest, signed by upwards of 200 commissioners, to the effect that since, in their opinion, the recent decisions of the civil courts, and the still more recent sanction of these decisions by the legislature, had made it impossible at that time to hold a free Assembly of the church as by law established, they therefore "protest that it shall be lawful for us, and such other commissioners as may concur with us, to withdraw to a separate place of meeting, for the purpose of taking steps for ourselves and all who adhere to us--maintaining with us the Confession of Faith and standards of the Church of Scotland as heretofore understood--for separating in an orderly way from the Establishment, and thereupon adopting such measures as may be competent to us, in humble dependence on God's grace and the aid of His Holy Spirit, for the advancement of His glory, the extension of the gospel of our Lord and Saviour, and the administration of the affairs of Christ's house according to His holy word." The reading of this document was followed by the withdrawal of the entire non-intrusion party to another place of meeting, where the first Assembly of the Free Church was constituted, with Dr Thomas Chalmers as moderator. This Assembly sat from the 18th to the 30th of May, and transacted a large amount of important business. On Tuesday the 23rd, 396[10] ministers and professors publicly adhibited their names to the Act of Separation and deed of demission by which they renounced all claim to the benefices they had held in connexion with the Establishment, declaring them to be vacant, and consenting to their being dealt with as such. By this impressive proceeding the signatories voluntarily surrendered an annual income amounting to fully £100,000. Entry: FREE
After the abolition of the shogunate and the resumption of administrative functions by the Throne, one of the first acts of the newly organized government was to invite the foreign representatives to Kioto, where they had audience of the mikado. Subsequently a decree was issued, announcing the emperor's resolve to establish amicable relations with foreign countries, and "declaring that any Japanese subject thereafter guilty of violent behaviour towards a foreigner would not only act in opposition to the Imperial command, but would also be guilty of impairing the dignity and good faith of the nation in the eyes of the powers with which his majesty had pledged himself to maintain friendship." From that time the relations between Japan and foreign states grew yearly more amicable; the nation adopted the products of Western civilization with notable thoroughness, and the provisions of the treaties were carefully observed. Those treaties, however, presented one feature which very soon became exceedingly irksome to Japan. They exempted foreigners residing within her borders from the operation of her criminal laws, and secured to them the privilege of being arraigned solely before tribunals of their own nationality. That system had always been considered necessary where the subjects of Christian states visited or sojourned in non-Christian countries, and, for the purpose of giving effect to it, consular courts were established. This necessitated the confinement of foreign residents to settlements in the neighbourhood of the consular courts, since it would have been imprudent to allow foreigners to have free access to districts remote from the only tribunals competent to control them. The Japanese raised no objection to the embodiment of this system in the treaties. They recognized its necessity and even its expediency, for if, on the one hand, it infringed their country's sovereign rights, on the other, it prevented complications which must have ensued had they been entrusted with jurisdiction which they were not prepared to discharge satisfactorily. But the consular courts were not free from defects. A few of the powers organized competent tribunals presided over by judicial experts, but a majority of the treaty states, not having sufficiently large interests at stake, were content to delegate consular duties to merchants, not only deficient in legal training, but also themselves engaged in the very commercial transactions upon which they might at any moment be required to adjudicate in a magisterial capacity. In any circumstances the dual functions of consul and judge could not be discharged without anomaly by the same official, for he was obliged to act as advocate in the preliminary stages of complications about which, in his position as judge, he might ultimately have to deliver an impartial verdict. In practice, however, the system worked with tolerable smoothness, and might have remained long in force had not the patriotism of the Japanese rebelled bitterly against the implication that their country was unfit to exercise one of the fundamental attributes of every sovereign state, judicial autonomy. From the very outset they spared no effort to qualify for the recovery of this attribute. Revision of the country's laws and reorganization of its law courts would necessarily have been an essential feature of the general reforms suggested by contact with the Occident, but the question of consular jurisdiction certainly constituted a special incentive. Expert assistance was obtained from France and Germany; the best features of European jurisprudence were adapted to the conditions and usages of Japan; the law courts were remodelled, and steps were taken to educate a competent judiciary. In criminal law the example of France was chiefly followed; in commercial law that of Germany; and in civil law that of the Occident generally, with due regard to the customs of the country. The jury system was not adopted, collegiate courts being regarded as more conducive to justice, and the order of procedure went from tribunals of first instance to appeal courts and finally to the court of cassation. Schools of law were quickly opened, and a well-equipped bar soon came into existence. Twelve years after the inception of these great works, Japan made formal application for revision of the treaties on the basis of abolishing consular jurisdiction. She had asked for revision in 1871, sending to Europe and America an important embassy to raise the question. But at that time the conditions originally calling for consular jurisdiction had not undergone any change such as would have justified its abolition, and the Japanese government, though very anxious to recover tariff autonomy as well as judicial, shrank from separating the two questions, lest by prematurely solving one the solution of the other might be unduly deferred. Thus the embassy failed, and though the problem attracted great academical interest from the first, it did not re-enter the field of practical politics until 1883. The negotiations were long protracted. Never previously had an Oriental state received at the hands of the Occident recognition such as that now demanded by Japan, and the West naturally felt deep reluctance to try a wholly novel experiment. The United States had set a generous example by concluding a new treaty (1878) on the lines desired by Japan. But its operation was conditional on a similar act of compliance by the other treaty powers. Ill-informed European publicists ridiculed the Washington statesmen's attitude on this occasion, claiming that what had been given with one hand was taken back with the other. The truth is that the conditional provision was inserted at the request of Japan herself, who appreciated her own unpreparedness for the concession. From 1883, however, she was ready to accept full responsibility, and she therefore asked that all foreigners within her borders should thenceforth be subject to her laws and judiciable by her law-courts, supplementing her application by promising that its favourable reception should be followed by the complete opening of the country and the removal of all restrictions hitherto imposed on foreign trade, travel and residence in her realm. "From the first it had been the habit of Occidental peoples to upbraid Japan on account of the barriers opposed by her to full and free foreign intercourse, and she was now able to claim that these barriers were no longer maintained by her desire, but that they existed because of a system which theoretically proclaimed her unfitness for free association with Western nations, and practically made it impossible for her to throw open her territories completely for the ingress of foreigners." She had a strong case, but on the side of the European powers extreme reluctance was manifested to try the unprecedented experiment of placing their people under the jurisdiction of an Oriental country. Still greater was the reluctance of those upon whom the experiment would be tried. Foreigners residing in Japan naturally clung to consular jurisdiction as a privilege of inestimable value. They saw, indeed, that such a system could not be permanently imposed on a country where the conditions justifying it had nominally disappeared. But they saw, also, that the legal and judicial reforms effected by Japan had been crowded into an extraordinarily brief period, and that, as tyros experimenting with alien systems, the Japanese might be betrayed into many errors. Entry: JAPAN
4. A feast is an essential feature of every primitive funeral, and in the Irish "wake" it still survives. A dead man's soul or double has to be fed at the tomb itself, perhaps to keep it from prowling about the homes of the survivors in search of victuals; and such food must also be supplied to the dead at stated intervals for months or years. Many races leave a narrow passage or tube open down to the cavity in which the corpse lies, and through it pour down drinks for the dead. Traces of such tubes are visible in the prehistoric tombs of the British Isles. However, such provision of food is not properly a funeral feast unless the survivors participate. In the Eastern churches and in Russia the departed are thus fed on the ninth, twelfth and fortieth days from death. "Ye appease the shades of the dead with wine and meals," was the charge levelled at the Catholics by the 4th-century Manichaeans, and it has hardly ceased to be true even now after the lapse of sixteen centuries. The funeral feast proper, however, is either a meal of communion with or in the dead, which accompanies interment, or a banquet off the flesh of victims slain in atonement of the dead man's sins. Some anthropologists see in the common meal held at the grave "the pledge and witness of the unity of the kin, the chief means, if not of making, at least of repairing and renewing it."[1] The flesh provided at these banquets is occasionally that of the dead man himself; Herodotus and Strabo in antiquity relate this of several half-civilized races in the East and West, and a similar story is told by Marco Polo of certain Tatars. Nor among modern savages are funeral feasts off the flesh of the dead unknown, and they seem to be intended to effect and renew a sacramental union or kinship of the living with the dead. The Uaupes in the Amazons incinerate a corpse a month after death, pound up the ashes, and mix them with their fermented drink. They believe that the virtues of the dead will thus be passed on to his survivors. The life of the tribe is kept inside the tribe and not lost. Such cannibal sacraments, however, are rare, and, except in a very few cases, the evidence for them weak. The slaying and eating of animal victims, however, at the tomb is universal and bears several meanings, separately or all at once. The animals may be slain in order that their ghosts may accompany the deceased in his new life. This significance we have already dwelt upon. Or it is believed that the shade feeds upon them, as the shades came up from Hades and lapped up out of a trench the blood of the animals slain by Ulysses. The survivors by eating the flesh of a victim, whose blood and soul the dead thus consume, sacramentally confirm the mystic tie of blood kinship with the dead. Or lastly, the victim may be offered for the sins of the dead. His sins are even supposed to be transferred into it and eaten by the priest. Such expiatory sacrifices of animals for the dead survive in the Christian churches of Armenia, Syria and of the East generally. Their vicarious character is emphasized in the prayers which accompany them, but the popular understanding of them probably combines all the meanings above enumerated. It has been suggested by Robertson Smith (_Religion of the Semites_, 336) that the world-wide customs of tearing the hair, rending the garments, and cutting and wounding the body were originally intended to establish a life-bond between the dead and the living. The survivors, he argues, in leaving portions of their hair and garments, and yet more by causing their own blood to stream over the corpse from self-inflicted wounds, by cutting off a finger and throwing it into the grave, leave what is eminently their own with the dead, so drawing closer their tie with him. Conversely, many savages daub themselves with the blood and other effluences of their dead kinsmen, and explain their custom by saying that in this way a portion of the dead is incorporated in themselves. Often the survivors, especially the widows, attach the bones or part of them to their persons and wear them, or at least keep them in their houses. The retention of the locks of the deceased and of parts of his dress is equally common. There is also another side to such customs. Having in their possession bits of the dead, and being so far in communion with him, the survivors are surer of his friendship. They have ensured themselves against ghosts who are apt to be by nature envious and mischievous. But whatever their original significance, the tearing of cheeks and hair and garments and cutting with knives are mostly expressions of real sorrow, and, as Robertson Smith remarks, of deprecation and supplication to an angry god or spirit. It must not be supposed that the savage or ancient man feels less than ourselves the poignancy of loss. Entry: 4
In 1854 he found the maintenance of a herbarium and library too great a tax on his means. He therefore offered them to the government on the understanding that they should form the foundation of such necessary aids to research in the Royal Botanic Gardens at Kew. At the same time he contemplated the abandonment of botanical work. Fortunately, he yielded to the persuasion of Sir William Hooker, John Lindley and other scientific friends. In 1855 he took up his residence in London, and worked at Kew for five days a week, with a brief summer holiday, from this time onwards till the end of his life. As his friend Asa Gray wrote: "With such methodical habits, with freedom from professional or administrative functions, which consume the time of most botanists, with steady devotion to his chosen work, and with nearly all authentic material and needful appliances at hand or within reach, it is not so surprising that he should have undertaken and have so well accomplished such a vast amount of work, and he has the crowning merit and happy fortune of having completed all that he undertook." The government, in 1857, sanctioned a scheme for the preparation of a series of Floras or descriptions in the English language of the indigenous plants of British colonies and possessions. Bentham began with the _Flora Hongkongensis_ in 1861, which was the first comprehensive work on any part of the little-known flora of China. This was followed by the _Flora Australiensis_, in seven volumes (1863-1878), the first flora of any large continental area that had ever been finished. His greatest work was the _Genera Plantarum_, begun in 1862, and concluded in 1883 in collaboration with Sir Joseph Hooker, "the greater portion being," as Sir Joseph Hooker tells us, "the product of Bentham's indefatigable industry." As age gradually impaired his bodily powers, he seemed at last only to live for the completion of this monumental work. Entry: BENTHAM