pendent of their profession," suggested my

uncle.

There are a few such," replied Mr. Mainwaring, "and to the honour of our cloth it may be also said that they are active, hard-working men, who devote unsparingly their time, money and talents to the great cause. But consider that there are also those who find themselves driven to callings which, though not abstractedly wrong, are incompatible with that charge which ought to engross not a part only of a man's time and energies, but his undivided attention. Besides, remember that the pursuits of a scholar not unfrequently produce a species of mental fastidiousness in the man whose chief office is to preach to the poor, and to make his home almost in their humble dwellings."

"There is undoubtedly something wrong

in some quarter," said my uncle; "but where would you fix the blame?"

"It is difficult to say, as long as all parties concur in nothing but in the attempt to shift the responsibility off their own shoulders," replied the clergyman. "We are perpetually told that our Church is well paid for educating the people, when we know that the great majority of her working clergy are in the habit of receiving wages, which a butler in a respectable family would reject with disdain. I ran my eye this morning over the columns of a Church paper, and found at least a dozen advertisements for curates, each advertiser offering the liberal stipend of eighty pounds a year. And then reflect upon the unfairness of committing to one or two men, as is often done, the spiritual charge of four, five, or ten thousand souls. He must be indeed a

clerical Hercules who could grapple with such a many-headed Hydra."

"The division of parishes is greatly required," said my uncle.

'Yes, but mark the inconsistency of our opponents," replied Mr. Mainwaring. "Whenever we attempt any step towards the reformation of abuses, we are sure to run our heads against some interested party or other. 'Clerical ambition,' cries one; 'infringement of long-established rights,' shouts another. This Church reformer wants to abolish pew-rents in district churches, and thus take from their already ill-paid incumbents the means of subsistence; that would have no more places of worship erected until he has plundered the bishops of their property, and reduced them to what he calls the apostolic simplicity of a horse and gig." "And in the meanwhile," said I, "we are suffering the seeds to ripen which may

rebellion. The masses are silent now, by and bye, perhaps, they will speak to us in a voice of thunder, and make us repent when too late that we have neglected to keep pace with the exigencies of the times."

Yet," said my uncle, "let us be thankful that much has been done, and is doing. The great mass of churchmen are becoming more and more awake to their duties and responsibilities, and even those defects in church organisation of which our friend speaks, are already beginning to feel the influence of a pressure from without. All I fear is, that if the clergy and their friends do not take matters of this kind in hand very soon, those who are unfriendly to the Church may, and in that case we shall have spoliation instead of reform."

"God forbid that should ever be the case!" said Mr. Mainwaring, fervently. "In

spite of her faults, faults which a true friend would rather judiciously amend than falsely and flatteringly conceal, she is a noble Church, a Church that has bravely and manfully fulfilled her mission, and will fulfil it yet more bravely and manfully if her enemies and false friends do not fetter and paralyse her energies. I never think of her, but I am remimded of some brave old oak that has weathered out the storms of countless winters, but which is daily growing weaker and weaker as the ivy twines around it with its destructive embrace. Remove the weed, and let the staunch old tree have fair play, and you will still preserve it for many years in health and vigour; neglect it, and it dies."

The next morning a letter was put into my hands which the post had just brought. I glanced at the direction, but although written in a plain and legible hand, the