spirit of that most important Rubric of the Prayer-Book :"Chancels shall remain as they have done in times past."* This was a crucial principle with the Ecclesiologists in all church restorations; they insisted most distinctly and pertinaciously on a marked and palpable division-after the ancient type-between the nave and chancel, and in many cases they carried their point. In later works, produced by architects trained in their school, some small modification of this principle has been adopted, and a slightly foreign feature been introduced in the shape of dwarf skreens, such as those at All Saints', Margaret Street; S. Alban's, Holborn; and All Saints', Boyn Hill,-an adaptation well enough suited, however, to the altered services of the Anglican Church. Thus Bishop Hooper's work is again undone by the allies of a new and a better Reformation.

5. But in no particular have the directions of the quondam Bishop of Gloucester been so universally condemned as in the case of pews. The National Society for the Promotion of the Freedom of Worship has followed in the groove that was first formed by the Cambridge Ecclesiologists; the two organizations together have so far influenced public opinion, that a dislike of private pews and apportioned "sittings" is now almost universal with every section and school of thought within the Anglican communion. No particular proof need be attempted, therefore, of so generally-recognised and patent a fact.

6. The use of figured stained glass, likewise, is so universal,—even the Presbyterians of Glasgow have adopted it in the Cathedral of that city,-that the sixth of the selected injunctions of Bishop Hooper may be truly said now to be wholly ignored. And if we call to mind, for example, what an outcry was raised, fourteen or fifteen years ago, against the thoroughly Catholic treatment of certain subjects in the glass for S. Saviour's, Leeds, and the now commonly-received practice of representing all the various details of the Incarnation, in accordance with the true principle of medieval art and of the Catholic religion, we shall be better able to judge faithfully of our wonderful progress in matters of this character during the past thirty years.

7. Wall and panel-paintings of every sort were likewise to be defaced; they gendered profaneness and superstition, and so stank in the nostrils of the "godly." How well and

* Rood crosses have been recently erected in several churches, and in at least two of our ancient cathedrals,—these, without figures, are at best imperfect; but the figures will no doubt come in due time.

efficiently that part of the "reforming" business was performed, the walls of our ancient parish churches might tell. The axe and whitewash-pail, as we learn from the churchwardens' accounts, were soon brought into general and extensive use, and that peculiar "neatness, cheapness, and simplicity" of which some superficial people speak so much, was thus easily and completely obtained. Carved tabernacle work, rich in gold and vermilion, which must have cost hundreds of pounds and years of patient labour to have executed, was thus deliberately destroyed in a morning's work of wanton fanatical fury. On the other hand, the reformation that has been effected at Ely by the late Mr. Styleman Le Strange, together with the efficient works of Mr. Gambier Parry at Highnam, near Gloucester; All Saints' and S. Alban's, London; All Souls', Halifax,-a mere tithe of what has been effected in other places-are sufficient to prove that Hooper's injunctions on this, as on many other particulars, are now simply a dead letter.

But it is not in these particulars only that the Ecclesiological movement has succeeded. The whole range of subjects and details included in the term " ecclesiology" have received a systematic impetus, which has resulted in a sure but steady progress almost miraculous to contemplate. Our respected contemporary The Ecclesiologist, notwithstanding the existence. of other serials which in some degree trench upon its peculiar province, retains with distinction its high position. Though occasionally the originator of a crotchet may be permitted to make it public, and ventilate it, as was the case when a series of extremely far-fetched and ridiculous papers "On the Basilican Arrangement of Churches" appeared in its pages, it is still conducted with the same strict reference to the true principles of Christian art, and with the same elevated tone of sentiment and criticism which so remarkably distinguished its earlier numbers.

If we look, furthermore, to the influence for good which the republication of such books as. the Sarum Missal, the Aberdeen Breviary, Mr. J. D. Chambers' English version of the Salisbury Hours, and other similar works have had, we can see little reason to despair as to the future. All such publications are in the first instance mainly theoretical—as far as the Ecclesiological revival is concerned; but soon they become eminently practical in their direct bearing on the progress of true religion.

Again: Notwithstanding the abuse which it received from certain dignitaries, the "Directorium Anglicanum" must have more than realized the hopes of its promoters.

Some will say that the great revival of Christian art in this country is a work very considerably independent of the revival of Catholic truth, and that little or nothing is to be drawn from the facts to which we have alluded, as indicating any change of sentiment in the people of England with regard to ancient prejudices. But this is a criticism at once. carping, one-sided, and unjust. The external improvements tell of the internal. The ancient churches of this country, in their dejected state of decay and desolation, spoke of a state of feeling which indicated an almost absence of faith on the part of the people. Cranmerism and Puritanism had done their work well. The candlestick was about to be removed; the light had burnt low in the socket, and only flickered with a spasmodic glare. Soon the gloom and darkness of indifference and unbelief were to overshadow the land. But when the night was blackest the first streak of dawn appeared. Independent of each other, men were moved strangely but strongly to labour for a restoration of the ancient truths, and to seek out the old paths. There came an outpouring of new life and power. One urged on the other, as each discovered for himself the truth and beauty of the Church of bygone times, to "arise, therefore, and labour," promising that the Lord would bless the work. Helpers were found who had never been sought, and unlooked-for results flowed as a matter of course from the simplest causes; so that ways that seemed difficult, and difficulties which appeared insuperable, were overcome with a strange simplicity, that astonished and awed those who waited and watched.

And now once more the National Church of England comes forth to do a great work, and to accomplish her Divine mission. Her time of slumber is over. There is no more folding of the hands, nor sleep. The stately cathedrals, once almost bare and useless, are empty and desolate no longer. Crowds throng them for the worship of Almighty God, with ancient chant and solemn canticle. The procession again goes forth, as of old, with cross and crozier, and Catholic sequence-for the present but a shadow thrown forwards of the future and final triumph of the Church of God, but still a work of progress. Once more the altars of the Lord, which were thrown down, are rebuilt, and the symbols of the presence of His Anointed are lit in the restored sanctuary. Pictured pane and saintly picture speak with silent eloquence of the communion of saints, and jewelled cross and chalice have their solemn symbolism too. Niggardly gifts are again the exception; and men of every rank emulate the noble

deeds of charity of their Catholic forefathers. It is not now the work of a mere school or section in the Church; it is the work of the whole body, slowly but surely drawn on by a supernatural power, to prepare for the restoration of Visible Unity and the second advent of the Church's divine Head. Should any who read these lines be inclined to fail or falter-to remain with folded hands and passive energies-thinking that the labours of one or two, or even of more, can accomplish but little; let them take courage by the history and work of the Cambridge Ecclesiologists, who realised the need of working for a given end, and then worked accordingly. What has been done--and this is not a small nor unimportant work-is but an accurate earnest of what may be done, if only the truth be sought out in sincerity; and singleness of heart and faith be graces which are exercised in its promulgation. For He Who hath promised to bless will bless assuredly, and with power. Posuit flumina in desertum, et exitus aquarum in sitim; terram fructiferam in salsuginem, a malitia inhabitantium in ea. Posuit desertum in stagna aquarum, et terram sine aquâ in exitus aquarum. Et collocavit illic esurientes; et constituerunt civitatem habitationis.

ART. V.-1. The Young Christian. By JACOB ABBOTT.

2. Pardon through the Precious Blood. London : G. J. Palmer, 32 Little Queen Street.

No part of the revival of Catholic truth in the English Church has manifested the guiding hand of God more remarkably than the restoration of sacramental Confession. Nothing could be more utterly antagonistic to the habits and education of an Englishman, and nothing more acutely painful to his proud, reserved, and sensitive character. Those who made their first confessions, ten or twenty years ago, experienced far greater difficulties than are felt by any of the present generation. They had to contend with all the disadvantages of a Protestant education. They had never been taught the simplest elements of self-examination, for general acknowledgments of sinfulness were in those days substituted for enquiry into individual acts of sin, while faults that caused no inconvenience to other people were left to flourish unchecked, and often unknown. Carelessly ordered nurseries and corrupt schools had left their desolating traces on the morals, while superficial and matter-of-course repentance was supposed at once to bring pardon for the few actual offences which presented themselves to the conscience. But when all this hollow religion was seen in its true light, and the dormant instinct of the newly-instructed Catholic awoke to the necessity of some more stern and heart-searching process than a secret confession that involved no shame and brought no relief, then the soul passed through a conflict never to be forgotten. At the time of which we are speaking, it had to be endured without any external help or comfort. Books were scarce, guides were few. Friends were either active hindrances or powerless to help, even with their sympathy. The form and manner of making a confession were so utterly unknown, that many have been quite uncertain whether they did not make theirs in some altogether unknown and incomplete manner. It has in some cases been years before the awakened penitent could bring himself to obey the gentle voice that unceasingly called him to the healing Fountain. He tried to silence it, but it would not be silenced; for conscience steadily asserted that cowardice was at the root of all his arguments. The storms and trials of life have passed over him since then, but among all his sufferings and mental struggles, none probably have equalled in intensity, and bitterness, and loneliness, that which he passed through before he