in general of what is beautiful, and we shall not soon forget the delight of some we happen to know, quite innocent of Greek and of their 'teens as yet, when we read this not long since on a Sunday evening. All the next week we heard pieces of it repeated by one and another, while one youth, older than the rest, copied it out for an absent sister. We appeal from the logic of the reviewer's head to the logic of our children's hearts.

BLIND BARTIMEUS.

'Blind Bartimeus at the gates

Of Jericho in darkness waits;

He hears the crowd;- he hears a breath
Say, "It is Christ of Nazareth!"

And calls in tones of agony,
Ιησοῦ, ἐλέησόν με.

"The thronging multitudes increase;
Blind Bartimeus, hold thy peace!
But still, above the noisy crowd,
The beggar's cry is shrill and loud;
Until they say, "He calleth thee;"
Θάρσει, έγειραι, φωνεῖ σε.

'Then saith the Christ, as silent stands

The crowd, "What wilt thou at my hands?"

And he replies, "Oh, give me light!

Rabbi, restore the blind man's sight!"
And Jesus answers, "Yay

Η πίστις σου σέσωκέ σε.

Ye that have eyes, yet cannot see,

In darkness and in misery,

Recall those mighty Voices Three ;
Ἰησοῦ, ἐλέησόν με.

Θάρσει, έγειραι, ὕπαγε

Η πίστις σου σέσωκέ σε.

Correspondence.

THE WORKING CLASSES & RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS. DEAR SIR,-The agitation respecting the opening of the New Crystal Palace on Sunday, has, at least, brought out in a more startling form the alienation of the working classes from religious bodies and institutions. The subject is no new one. For years past it has been pushing itself into prominence. It has been the topic of repeated discussions in various newspapers and magazines, including your own. It forms the main substance of a book* with which many of your readers are, no doubt, familiar, and whose remedial suggestions have been

The British Churches in relation to the British People.' By E. Miall, M.P. London: A. Hall, Virtue & Co.

·

repeatedly canvassed, and, in some instances, acted upon. Once more the momentous question comes before us with overpowering distinctness. The confessions of the Times' newspaper and the statements of Dr. Campbell force upon us the melancholy conviction that, so far at least as London is concerned, religious institutions have but the smallest hold upon the masses. The following is the language of the leading journal in discussing the Crystal Palace question:

Do the masses, the people, the working-classes of London crowd to our churches, morning, afternoon, evening, whenever the bells invite them? Do we see our aisles, our free seats, our galleries, crowded with the pale faces, the horny hands, the fustian jackets, the coarse linen, of those who do the rough work of this vast metropolis? Where are the artizans, the labourers, the porters, the coalwhippers, the lightermen, the sailors, and the myriads of toiling and suffering humanity? Here and there one of them, a marvel of his class, a man to write a book about, the hero, perhaps, already of half-a-dozen religious tracts, does go to church, or to meeting, on the Sunday morning, and, perhaps, the evening also. Will the statists and prophets of Sion College tell us where the others are the 999 out of a thousand? We presume they will not say, with the Pharisees of old, "this people is accursed;" nor can they imagine that these 999 are engaged in private prayer, or otherwise observing the Sabbath. No; without specifying the various attractions which the existing laws permit on the Sunday afternoon, we may at once reply that the said 999 are sotting, or sleeping, or talking politics, or reading the Sunday papers, or fighting, or seeing their dogs fight, or rat-catching, or walking in the fieldsif there chance to be any within walking distance-or quarrelling with their wives, or simply doing nothing at all, being jaded, wearied, prostrated, in a sort of hebdomidal trance or coma."

Not less emphatic are the admissions of Dr. Campbell, in a speech recently delivered at a Jubilee meeting of the Sunday School Union. 'Adult conversions in London and England' were (he said) ‘a rare thing,' and he described the artizan class as 'sealed, unapproachable, unimpressible.' He proceeded in the following strain:

'Were you to multiply your ministers, both Church and Dissent, with real evangelical men, and to build edifices so that each thousand of our adult population should command for its service-if it choose to avail itself of itsuch clergyman, or minister, it would very slightly alter the case. . . . I have no hesitation in saying, that, unless some other agency than the public ministration of the Word is brought actively into operation, even if we had such an assemblage of gifts and talents concentred in our preachers as the world never saw, we could not do much.'

To a similar effect are the statements of Mr. J. F. Johnson, in two or three very admirable letters, on 'Spiritual Destitution,' which have been published in the British Banner.' He says, 'Those who mingle directly or indirectly with the working classes, know that they cannot be induced to attend our present places of worship in great numbers. . . . Comparing the attendants with the non-attendants, the former constitute an insignificant minority. But is it not a fact that most of our present chapels are class chapels, and are principally occupied by the middle classes? . . If we are to wait until the working classes can be induced to attend our present chapels before the gospel is preached to them, hundreds of thousands must perish without hearing it at all.'

It may be said, the painful fact is admitted and needs no further evidence to prove its truth. But I do not think that it is really believed; at least Christians do not act as though they believed it. If true, does it not seem only rational that all the powers of the Church should be thrown into the great controversy-that the amplest and freest discussion should be invited on all sides, so that, if possible, some good may be gathered from it-that with so overwhelming a majority of our industrial population removed far beyond the reach of religious institutions, such matters as Sabbath observance and Sunday railway travelling become perfectly trivial-devoid of present significance. The great fact is either an impeachment of Christianity itself, which, in its early days, 'the common people' heard gladly; or of its professors. The religious world cannot escape the dilemma. The first conclusion is inconsistent with experience; we are driven, therefore, upon the other alternative, that something in the spirit or institutions of Christians in the present day, checks the progress of their faith. Why a man should be condemned who reluctantly utters the startling truth, I know not; unless it be that, in some quarters, there is a determination to disregard known facts, or an implicit confidence in the sufficiency of things as they are.

Admitting the fact, what a fearful responsibility does it throw upon the Christian church! To think that while we are building new chapels in every direction for the middle classes-the mere decorations of some of which, Mr. Johnson says, would suffice to raise two or three edifices in which the Gospel might be proclaimed to perishing hundreds-the multitude are beyond the reach of religion; the subjects not so much of infidelity, for that can never take a lasting hold upon the masses, as of a careless indifference.

It is not my intention-indeed, it would be absurd-to enter upon a consideration of this great question in the compass of two or three pages. My object is simply to bring out, or, rather, to reiterate the fact, and its corollary. The matter must be pondered by the church of Christ with all the seriousness, prayerfulness, and assiduity befitting so vital a question in this solemn matter. I would rather witness the extravagance of the mere theorist than the apathy of the complacent stickler for conventionalism. I should be disposed to hail every attempt, provided it were not vicious in principle, tending to awaken interest or effort in this direction. If ever the working classes are, to any great extent, brought to experience the value of religion, it will not be by one but many agencies. Scripture readers amongst Episcopalians, lay agency amongst Dissenters, special lectures and discussions, City Missions, and Christian Instruction societies, and last, not least, the Working Man's Educational Union, are all, I hope, contributing to swell the stream of spiritual blessings which flow in in that direction. Scarcely less should the religious world encourage every attempt made to elevate the masses socially and politically; for by this means the soil becomes all the more favourable for the regenerating influence of the Gospel. Instead of denouncing such signs of the times' as the recent conference of Nonconformist laymen

at Norwich, the Christian church ought rather to rejoice at it as a symptom of earnest inquiry and awakening life.

I hope, dear Sir, these disjointed remarks may be only the prelude to a frank and full discussion of the great question in your pages. By admitting correspondence from your readers, within suitable bounds, I believe great good will result. Many who would shrink from writing a formal article, no doubt, would be happy, in this form, to furnish suggestions, or valuable reflections. The medium for such a discussion is most suitable. You have ever stood by the political and social rights of the industrial classes, bewailed their indifference rather than denounced their wilfulness, and advocated their freedom to spend the Sabbath as they deem best, when other Christians have attempted to restrict it. In spite of my faith in the power of Christianity, I tremble to think of the future in respect to them. I am almost disposed to share Dr. Campbell's despair of reclaiming the adult portion of our industrial classes-not because I think they are impenetrable to the softening influence of the Gospel of love and peace, but because, by the mistaken alarms and agitations of the religious world, the breach is being widened. Alas! alas! that Christians should think they are doing God service by exasperating whole classes whom they desire to conciliate, and while carrying to them the message of a Saviour's love, demanding, also, that the State should build a wall of authority around their acts, forcing upon them, as far as possible, their interpretations of religious obligation. They may shut up a Crystal Palace on the Sabbath, but have they reflected on its probable consequence-the increased alienation of the masses from religious institutions? Yours faithfully,

A LAYMAN.

For the Young.

A SECRET WORTH KNOWING.

A HOUSEHOLD STORY.

DID you ever see Barnstaple in Devonshire? A curious old town it is, and unlike any that I have ever seen in England. It is prettily situated in a wide valley on the banks of the river Taw, and if you are curious to know the reason of its name, I will tell you that it is supposed to be derived from the British bar, or river's mouth, and the Saxon staple, or market town.

We must fancy ourselves in Barnstaple, the town of merchandise, some fifteen or twenty years ago. Not that the town is greatly changed at present. New houses have sprung up, indeed, both in and around the place, but many of the old ones remain, and the stage

coaches still rattle through the stony streets, to Exeter and Ilfracombe, as they did in days of yore, for railway there is none.

It is a pity that our visit cannot be in summer-time, and on a market day, when the stalls are gay with fruit and flowers, and the Devonshire farmers' wives, according to primitive custom, expose their goods for sale along the narrow street-and a fine display they make. Such fresh chickens, geese, and turkeys, as, if you have not been into Devonshire, you have never seen, and at such prices as you would scarcely believe if you chance to live in London. But you are not yet arrived at the age to think more of geese and turkeys, than of the business of eating them, therefore it will be of little use to give you, in this place, a history of the price of a fine fat goose.

The townsfolk of Barnstaple kept early hours in those days, and I believe they do so still; and Mr. and Mrs. Gretton, who lived in the handsome red brick house, at the entrance of the town, commanding a noble view of the Taw, from its upper window and from its lower, looking out on a pleasant lawn and well-planted garden, thought seven o'clock late indeed to wait for tea. Mr. Gretton could not keep awake over the debates in the Globe,' and Mrs. Gretton, ladylike and collected as she usually was, gaped audibly, and looked so often at the time-piece, that it was evident some event was expected soon to take place. The boys, four in number, were all at home for the holidays, but they had become so restless that they were, with one consent, banished to the play-room. The two elder girls were up stairs putting the finishing touch to their dress,' doing one another's hair,' as the young ladies' phrase goes, and trying to be particularly neat and nice in person. Martha, the housemaid, was dusting and making final arrangements in the spare room, and it is worthy of note that during the process of dusting, &c., she received three separate interruptions by means of a certain bell; to reply to which bell she had occasion to go down stairs three times, and to reply to three very immaterial questions. Miss Temple, the young governess at the Grettons, was writing a long letter in the school-room, to inform her friends in Kent that owing to the unexpected visit of a young lady, it would be inconvenient, impossible,' Mrs. Gretton said, for her to be spared for the Christmas visit; and this letter, which she watered with many tears, being concluded, she proceeded to make her preparations for the visitor.

Here is a glance at the family and their occupations, one afternoon in the Christmas week of the year 1832-but I think I ought to sketch the master.

Mr. Gretton was a retired surgeon: a legacy at the age of thirty did for him that which his own talents, I am afraid, never would have accomplished-it made him an independent man. He was kind, benevolent, and I know of no word so descriptive of his temperament, as easy. The greatest anxiety he had was that his family should never do anything to disgrace their station and their pedigree-of which he could have given you a most circumstantial account-but I am not versed in pedigrees, and should make some egregious blunder if I