and Independency; or he will be content with alleging Romanism and Protestantism. Such a man is unquestionably perverse and superficial, and nothing can be done with him till he can be brought to look at facts much more closely than he has been wont to do. He has never even asked himself what constitutes different religions.

The faults of Christian ministers and professors are a standing accusation, and are constantly urged in excuse of the neglect of religion. It is doubtless a calamity that there should be any ground for such complaints, but to vindicate irreligion by these inconsistencies shews that the obligations of personal piety are not understood. As it regards money, there is no doubt of its necessity, but those who have the love of God in their hearts are always willing to consecrate of their substance to the Giver of every good gift. Such an excuse is mere selfishness, and comes with an ill grace from men who are so ready to squander their hard-earned pittance upon drink and pleasure, and other objects of no real value.

Far more serious is the accusation that the rich and poor are not equally attended to. There is, however, exaggeration and unreason even here. Men have an instinct which they cannot lose, and which prompts them to associate most with persons of their own class. If a clergyman visits the poor, and sits down in a cottage which is neither tidy nor wholesome, he knows that it is a sacrifice and an act of self-denial. And so it would be an act of sacrifice and self-denial, if persons accustomed to better things had to associate in a place of worship on Sundays with all sorts of people. The classes will naturally separate, and it cannot be prevented. At the same time the poor have just cause for loud complaint, because in most places of worship the best positions are monopolized by the better sort, and the poor must be content with what is left. The rich claim this preference as a sort of right, because they contribute so large a proportion of the entire expenses. Even when all the seats are "free and unappropriated for ever" the division is more or less observed, although less so than in some fashionable places where "Noli me tangere" seems addressed to every unfashionable person. There are churches and dissenting

chapels which are well attended, the sittings let for a high rent, the respectable classes attend, and money itself will not command a position. In such places your pew openers and attendants are expected to reserve vacant sittings until any chance of the renters' coming is over, or until a certain time, and they request strangers of all degrees to wait and see whether there is room left for them. To call worship in such places "public worship" is a misnomer, because they are to all intents and purposes the private chapels of the seat holders; every pew or seat is transformed into a private box. Probably even here, however, certain benches and corners are reserved for those who do not pay seat rents, but their occupants feel humbled by their position. What can be done? The scale on which churches and chapels are now built is commonly too small, and determined rather by pecuniary considerations than an estimate of the wants of the locality. We like architecture, but we believe. that it would be far more religious to provide room for three thousand persons by the expenditure of twenty thousand pounds, than by the lavishing of the same sum to accommodate one thousand. A great deal of the money spent upon luxurious details of ornament, ought to go to provide the poor with sitting-room. We do not suppose we shall be heard amid the present rage for the alteration of old churches and the erection of new ones on so costly a scale. But so long as this lasts they that wear soft raiment will dwell in the "King's houses," and the people at large will wander in their own way. There is a Nemesis for every abuse, and the gorgeous splendour and vast expense of modern church work will be no exception. It tends more than anything to draw more distinctly than ever the line of demarcation between the men who have money and the men who have none; and that where it should be least perceptible. The clergy may do all in their power in their respective congregations, and this is the only way to diminish and mitigate a grievance which has slowly grown up among us. As a matter of fact, we believe that very little blame is attached to the clergy in the matter, or not more blame than belongs to other persons. Nay, we believe that many of both clergy and laity would scorn to detract in any way from the comfort of the poor in God's

house, or to contract in any way the space which they require. But so long as there is so inadequate provision made for the population, so long will there be a show of reason, if no more, in the popular declaration, that "if we go to a place of worship, the externally respectable is preferred before us." At the London Coffee House Conference oue speaker read a quantity of texts from St. James's Epistle which he said ministers were afraid to preach from, because they forbid the exaltation of worldly rank and wealth in Christian assemblies.

That one may go to a church or chapel for a year and not be spoken to, is a simple matter of fact. The question is, whose duty it is to speak first; but inasmuch as the stranger usually expects this compliment, it would be well if he received it. So far as this objection is founded in truth, we think it scarcely peculiar to working men. We have heard of others who have attended a place of worship for years, and have scarcely had a word with any member of the congregation. It may be asked, what is the clergyman doing? Some of the clergy never visit their flocks; some of them do not know how to deal with instances like those we have in view. Not knowing their names and residences, unless these can be found out for him, the minister cannot visit the people. But we believe there are faults on both sides, and that while congregations should not be forgetful to entertain strangers, strangers should do something towards facilitating acquaintance. One thing is manifest, and it is that the minister cannot be expected to learn all about everybody he sees in his Church. He addresses them generally, he prays for and with them, but as religious services are now arranged, he has no personal contact with them. He comes from his mysterious sacristy or vestry like a being from another world; all he says and does and the very positions he occupies keep up the illusion, and when he disappears and enters again into his sanctum sanctorum, the hallucination is perfected. The audience come and go, but there is a great gulf between them and their ministers. We know that this idea of a great gulf is favoured by many of the clergy who would raise their order into a caste. But it is a grievous mistake to suppose that sacerdotal prerogative and power render immaterial the actual pre

sence and participation of the people in divine worship. Of course there are occasions where extreme Ritualists, whether from Oxford or from Rome, wish to have as many as possible in attendance; but even then how far off they stand! How incommunicable they are! The eye, the ear, the senses, and the imagination are appealed to in such a way as to make the people feel themselves in the presence of another order of beings. Attachments formed under such circumstances may be little better than idolatry, and the recognition of the awful and supernatural powers which some claim, may come still nearer to idolatry. These, however, are cases with which we have not much to deal. Divine worship, as conducted in almost all churches and chapels, sets the people at too great a distance from the minister. On Sunday, when he should be most accessible, he is most inaccessible, and when he should come nearest he is farthest removed. During the rest of the week the opposite occurs. The shepherd who visits his poor flock finds them absent from home at their work, or busied with domestic cares, and hence intercommunion is then next to impossible. The great problem to be solved is how to bring the two classes into contact, for without this they will not understand each other, and the people will remain by thousands without confidence in the men that watch for their souls.

Another point is the length of the services. On Sunday mornings the time is oftener over than under two hours for a service at church, and not much less at a dissenting chapel. It is further true that the services are destitute of liveliness; that the preaching especially is too elaborate and not colloquial enough. Popular preachers are never dull and prosy, and however finished their sermons, the delivery is not that of a theological essay. In the Church of England the service is needlessly involved by the position of the prayers, etc., to find which people have to turn the leaves of their books to and fro. The books have no index and pagination to facilitate the process, and hence ignorant and unpractised persons get perplexed and annoyed. It is much to be desired that praying and preaching should assume a form more in accordance with the habits and wants of the multitude. There is reluctance enough on their

parts to come at all, and when they come they should not have imposed upon them a task and a burden.

The remaining objections of this class (14-20) are captious, and call for persuasion and kind admonition rather than argument. They are the utterances of an irreligious spirit, and must be dealt with accordingly.

What we have called social reasons are miscellaneous enough; and though very frivolous for the most part, are difficult to deal with. The first which concerns the requirements of religion is the language of rebellion against God: religion is strict and serious, hostile to immorality, and involves habits and exercises of piety. The question raised is whether men can serve God and Mammon. They know this cannot be, and so they deliberately choose the service of Mammon.

The excuses, numbers 2-9, bring us into contact with the Sunday question, as it is called. They indicate with sufficient precision many of the ways in which London artizans spend their time. They do not, however, represent the whole truth. They make no allusion to Sunday trading, which is often a consequence of Saturday night revels and dissipation. Again, certain classes are occupied on Saturdays till midnight, and on into Sunday morning, and on Sundays they want to lie in bed late, and then to get up and lounge about. The Sunday public house, "the church with a chimney in it," does a great amount of harm, because in addition to the legal hours of opening, there are other times when drink can be surreptitiously obtained. We remember once seeing twelve or fourteen men admitted all together to a beer house in Bethnal Green during "churchtime" on a Sunday morning. "Three and sixpence to Brighton and back," ""Nine hours at the sea side," and similar announcements carry away not a few. But we do not think this worse than the flaunting, fluttering, and parading of the fashionable throngs at what their silliness calls the "Zoo." Nor do the working men forget all this, any more than they forget the Saturday night carousals, and gilded revels of the great. For great men are not hid; and poor men have eyes. It does not take long to ascertain that no little of the church going of the upper ten" is part and parcel of what they call "the right