British Library, Day Sixteen

Lots of Anglicans today, with the occasional lower-church Evangelical wandering through.

As someone already teetotal, I fear the scaremongering temperance tracts were rather wasted on me.

Margaret S. Comrie, The King's Light-Bearer; Or, Shining for Jesus (John F. Shaw, n.d.). An example of the Victorian cult of the Waldensians. Young Louise (nicknamed "Mother Firefly") grows exceptionally attached to Celestine, a disabled child abused by her stepmother; the girls are separated when Louise's father dies and she is unwillingly sent to an orphanage. Louise struggles to be a "good Vaudoise" like her ancestors, which eventually inspires her one of her cousin Marguerite's boarders, Frank Gordon, to become a Christian. Of course, this being that kind of novel, Celestine dies, but Louise works through her grief to "shine" for Christ. Notable for how the novel associates landscape with a deep sense of religious history. BODY COUNT: One.
Susan Carpenter, Shifting Sands (Church of England Temperance Society, n.d.). Anglican temperance novel. Mr. Gartland, the new curate, preaches total abstinence, although only a few locals take him up on it. Those who don't take him up on it go to hell in a handbasket: George Spears, fiance of teetotal Edith Bromage, goes to London, gets caught up in drinking and gambling, becomes indebted, and commits suicide; Hugh Bromage, Edith's brother, gets caught up in drinking and gambling (I detect a pattern), comes home from India a broken man, destroys the family's finances, and tries to murder his sister Mildred (which, at least, gets him to rethink his ways); and Jeb and Polly, a working-class couple, get caught up in drinking (not gambling), and degenerate before they are finally rescued. BODY COUNT: Three.
Mabel Wynn Tetley, The Story of an Old Prayer-Book (Church of England Temperance Society, n.d.). Although there's temperance involved, the novel is more about the dangers of gambling. Grace Kemyss loves Anglican clergyman Arthur Copleston. Unfortunately, her disastrous brother Reggie becomes a drunken gambler, destroys the family's finances (see above), and forges a note; although Grace helps him abscond, she feels so dishonored that she calls off her engagement to Arthur. Decades later, after receiving a small inheritance, Grace packs off to the Crimea as a war nurse, where she runs into a) Arthur (alive) and b) Reggie (dying). She finally marries Arthur and forgives Reggie, who has been carrying around the prayer-book of the title (originally a gift from their mother to Grace). BODY COUNT: Three.
The Conversion of St. Vladimir; Or, the Martyrs of Kief. A Tale of the Early Russian Church (John Henry and James Parker, n.d.). Like the other Parker novels I've been reading, this is part of the Anglican "Tales from Church History" series. This time, the subject is St. Vladimir the Great. In short: war leader goes out to conquer; war leader instead gets converted to Christianity. There's also a nasty high priest, who gets offed relatively quickly, and a treacherous deacon, who gets forgiven at the end. Features a rather gory martyrdom at the beginning. BODY COUNT: Three (that seems to be the magic number today).
Thomas W. Mossman, Epiphanius: The History of His Childhood and Youth Told by Himself (J. T. Hayes, 1874). Anglo-Catholic novel. A rather plotless faux autobiography by St. Epiphanius of Salamis. Primarily notable for Epiphanius' interest in and hedging about miracles (reflecting nineteenth-century debates) and his shocking (!) experience in a home belonging to...brace yourselves...some Gnostics. (There are hints of--gulp--sex.) At a number of points, Epiphanius reflects on what he sees as symbolic transitions from Judaism to Christianity. BODY COUNT: Four.
J. Haslach Potter, Drifted Home. A Tale for the Young and “Playing for His Colours.” A Tale of School Life (Church Monthly Office, n.d.). Two novellas, thematically yoked by themes of selfishness and pride. In the first, young Ethel Hooper (unselfish, humble, good Christian), on her way back from India, tries to rescue Dan (stowaway) when their ship sinks; they make their way to a raft and drift ashore. Meanwhile, her brother Charles (selfish, proud, bad Christian) runs away from home and falls into the proverbial low company (drinking, swearing, that sort of thing). However, with the help of missionary Mr. Moreton and the inspiration of his sister's rescue, he changes his ways (unselfish, humble, good Christian), and everyone lives happily ever after. In the second, schoolboy Henry Glyde, aka Tubbs, gets caught up in (oh no!) gambling, thanks to the eeeevil head boy, Mortimer. As a result, Tubbs is accused of stealing another boy's coin (no); in fact, it was the son of a servant, the impoverished Mr. Pritchett, who hasn't asked for any charity out of false pride (see above). Finally, Tubbs is found innocent of theft but must atone for gambling by never being allowed on the football team, while Mortimer climbs out a window and eventually suffers the standard fate of gamblers in religious fiction. BODY COUNT: Amazingly, zero.
Maud Savery, “Experientia Docet.” A Tale (Church Printing Company, n.d.). OK, now this one was actually rather clever. Amy St. Maur berates her servants endlessly--until one night, she falls asleep and awakens to find herself a servant. As her Guardian Angel explains, this is "penance" for her terrible behavior, and she is forced to suffer a series of humiliations similar to those she has meted out until, ultimately, her mistress accuses her of stealing a diamond ring. She then awakens and, suitably chastened, is nice to her servants thereafter; to her amazement, her new cook, Emma, was one of the servants in her dream. WAS IT REAL OR NOT??? BODY COUNT: Zero.
Isabel Mary Jones, Nigel Heathcote: or, “In quietness and confidence shall be your strength,” A Quiet Tale of a Cathedral City (Mowbray, n.d.). High Church novel. The title character is the local doctor. Not much happens, which is the point: he and his wife help out Rachel Heavitree with her ailing son, Guy; a decade later, Rachel's daughter Joy is engaged to Stephen Devereux, Heathcote's partner in his practice; they get married; and Barbara, Stephen's former fiancee who jilted him (oh no!), shows up, pregnant, abandoned by her husband, and with a young child. She dies (of course), forgiven by Stephen (also of course), and the Heathcotes adopt her son. In other words, everyone can be forgiven. The novel puts in a nice word for sisterhoods at the end. BODY COUNT: Two.