a feeble, possibly dying, white-haired patriarch, weeping as he writes to an only son. My only desire for reproduction of my reply to my father is that reasons for adhering to Unitarianism set forth by me have never, to my recollection, been before set forth by any writer. Nothing but absolute conviction that Jesus did not seek equality with God, and that such seeking is the special mark of Antichrist, enables me to resist my dear dying father's appeal.

He gives us then a copy of the letter he wrote his father. We quote some portions:

22d October, 1881.

MY DEARLY BELOVED FATHER,- Your last letter was more like your old love and tenderness than any you have for a long time written to me, and I gladly hasten to reply in filial vein. To satisfy you, I can and do honestly tell you that I believe Jesus of Nazareth to be the Son of God, the Lamb who taketh away-by offering of himself — the sins of the world, and the Vine outside of which no branch can bear fruit acceptable to God. There are Unitarians and Unitarians, just as there are Baptists and Baptists.

He starts a little narrow, we observe; but he goes on widening:

I believe that Jesus of Nazareth is the first and only begotten from the dead, Son of God. Rev. i., 5; Coloss. i., 18. I have diligently searched the Scriptures, looking earnestly for the way to life eternal; and I find in them this begetting, and this only, spoken of as the proof of Jesus Christ's sonship.

With profound conviction, I accept this apostolic position, and in accepting all its alternatives I say that I believe Jesus of Nazareth was raised from the dead, and thus proved to be the accepted head of the human race and Son of God, by a better sonship than that of Adam, who is also called the son of God. . . .

Nothing but a sad, stern necessity, constantly urging me on to add to my knowledge discernment, so that I may prove the things which differ (I. Phil. i., 10), has brought me to my present pass; and, although you accept and I reject the dogma of immaculate conception, your faith and mine is founded upon the resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth, and rests upon that foundation alone. I solemnly, and in the presence of God, assure you that I dare not believe in Trinitarianism any longer: it is the root dogma and key to all idolatry.

I know that Jesus thought equality with God was not a thing to be grasped at (Phil. ii., 6, 7, new translation), and what Jesus did not grasp at I dare not thrust upon him. Grasping at this equality is, according to II. Thess. ii., 3, 4, the special mark of Antichrist.

I love the man Jesus of Nazareth with all my soul. I will confess him before all men, Jews and Gentiles,- before Jews, who reject him on account of the enormous demands made upon their credulity by Orthodoxy-i.e., Protestantism - only half-cleansed from Romanism.

God help me if I dared to abandon this belief! To add to your happiness on your death-bed, I would do so; but, if I did abandon this belief and its inevitable Unitarianism, I should myself go to the grave in misery, knowing that I had abandoned the truth. Do you ask for this?

Touching the old doctrine of atonement and the necessity and merits of Christ's blood, he speaks up with great spirit:

The death of Christ was a foul, judicial murder. I decline to hold any other opinion about it than that of Peter,-"by lawless men he was slain," Acts ii., 23. I do not rejoice in his death. I find the apostles appealing not to his death,— in which he cried, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?- but to his resurrection (in which God proved that he had not forsaken him), as the true ground for believing in Jesus as the Lamb of God. This view of the case, and this alone, enables me to reject the cross-wearing of the Ritualists and Roman Catholics and their death dogmas. As for my children, on behalf of whom you appeal to me to abandon Unitarianism, I can only say I hope my children will learn to love Jesus of Nazareth as much as I do, and more too; but I do not see that my abandonment of Unitarianism will effect this.

I dare say I shall die under a cloud,― nothing more likely, if I retain, as now, a keen sense of the verdict of the Orthodox on myself. Nevertheless, I remember the exclamation of Jesus when crucified, and draw some comfort therefrom; for I know the Paganism of Trinitarianism is patent to all who compare the religions of the world with Judaism, and I know that Jesus of Nazareth came as man to fulfil, and did fulfil, all the requirements of Mosaic law, and so became the Son of God in resurrection. I. Cor. xv., 21.

Believe me, my dearly beloved father, yours.

Poor old Scotland helped lay the burden of Calvinism on us; and it is wonderful to see what a sturdy race of people she has reared under it, as our forefathers did. But the sluices are breaking, the waters of truth are permeating the land. Scotland is slow, because she is so earnest, so intense, so sincere. We venture to say that she will be in advance of the English Church by and by. The Scotch are more ideal than the English, more intellectual, one might say. Philosophy has already sprung from them. They care less for eating and drinking and sleeping. The English Church is refined and sensible, but she always dozes more or less. The Presbyterians may be rude and unpractical, but their minds are active, and they may erelong so enlarge their boundaries that there will be no need of any Unitarian churches there.

How good it will be when we can all be called branches of the one great Church of Christ! MARTHA P. Lowe.

NOTES FROM ENGLAND.

PROJECTED NATIONAL CONFERENCE.

A short time ago, the British and Foreign Unitarian Association invited a special committee to make arrangements for a meeting of ministers and laymen for religious fellowship and conference in some central district of England. It had been felt by some active friends of the Association that the yearly meetings in London and the provincial meetings scarcely gave sufficient opportunity for quiet, religious communion and conference on subjects that very closely bore upon the inner life of Unitarian congregations. At these ordinary meetings, a great deal of business has necessarily to be done, or the ordinary work of the Association has to occupy the thoughts of both speakers and hearers. In these circumstances, it seemed desirable to attempt a meeting of a different kind, apart from the ordinary proceedings of the Association, and almost entirely confined to religious fellowship and conference. The calling of such a meeting has fallen into the best possible hands, and it is hoped that early in 1882 the first of a useful and important series of meetings may be held. It is proposed to invite the ministers, members, and friends of all congregations that would be at all likely to join in such a gathering; but it is only too obvious that it must be almost entirely a meeting of Unitarians. This has been so far foreseen already that a sketch of the programme which has been drawn up includes little more than references to the wants and hopes of Unitarian congregations. It is to be hoped that this conference will avoid the temptation which, for Unitarians, is so fatally easy, to take refuge in "papers." The life and soul of such a gathering would be spontaneity, freedom, simplicity. Better an awkward pause than a mechanically perfect routine. Better a little wandering from the point than a drill sergeant, regulation exactitude. The devotional or religious side of the gathering will need careful attention. Unitarians are not good at prayer-meetings; but the prayer-meeting, or something very much like it, is what Unitarians need, especially at such conferences as that now contemplated. Experience meetings, too, of the right kind, where short, pithy, hearty testimonies are made,

are hardly in our way; but these might be thought about with a rich promise of results. If Unitarians, with what we may call their worldly wisdom, their philosophy, their keen sense of propriety, could command the fervor and give in to the feelings that naturally attend religious joy and hope, what glorious experience meetings we might have! In this direction, probably, lies our hope of meeting, in fellowship and conference, with Christian brothers and sisters of other churches. We have common ground; but that common ground lies about the affections and not about our speculations or our opinions. It would be a splendid service rendered to Christendom, if we or any others could make it plain that religious people of all kinds and creeds could meet together to rejoice, to hope, to love, to adore. If the projected conference does anything, however small, in this direction, its value and importance will not be easily overrated.

ATTENDANCE UPON RELIGIOUS WORSHIP.

A census of attendance at the churches and chapels of Newcastle, Liverpool, and Bristol, taken by certain enterprising newspaper proprietors, has startled the public, and led to the inquiry whether, in regard to this matter of public worship, we have not been living in a "fool's paradise." The number of persons attending seemed absurdly small in comparison with the population. Farther reflection, however, has tended to somewhat modify the first impression, though it is still only too certain that the drift is away from places of worship. It has been remembered that the census, in the early cases, was taken in the morning; and it is a well-known fact that our working classes, in so far as they attend at all, attend chiefly in the evening. It has been remembered, too, that attendance at places of worship is to a considerable extent irregular. It would take from three to six Sundays, in many cases, to get a correct census of the congregation. The members serve in relays: it is too much to expect them to be all there together! It would, therefore, be manifestly unfair to take the numbers present on any given morning as at all indicative of the number either of particular congregations or of the church and chapel going population. The attendance, however, on any given morning does measure something: it measures the interest of particular congregations and the general interest of what we may call the worshipping population. People cannot be said to be enthusiastic when they take turns, and worship in re

lays. But there is something besides attendance. A very suggestive census would be one that would not only count up how many appeared, but that would concern itself with the time of their arrival. That would probably be the most startling census of all; and, if being in time marks interest, we are afraid that the revelation would be appalling. At the concert, the theatre, the political meeting, the literary lecture, the evening party, we are always ready, and in some cases can sit for a quarter of an hour or more before the time for commencing. At the place of worship, we are, at the best, prompt to the minute; but the rule, in many cases, is to miss the opening voluntary, hymn, or prayer, as though we grudged every moment at the mill. Truly we have much to think about in regard to these things. Are we too professional, too formal, too tied by routine, too artificial? What is the matter with us? Or is there anything the matter with the people? Are they too fond of novelty, movement, amusement? My own case is a somewhat suggestive one, and I do not feel I have yet got to the bottom of it. At the afternoon meetings, in Leicester, where all is fresh and bright and social, I regularly see from fifteen hundred to two thousand persons waiting for me when I go on to the platform, and I have heard of workingmen going without their dinner in order to insure a place. At my chapel, in the morning from two hundred and fifty to three hundred welcome faces await me; but they have only waited one minute and a quarter, and many come in when the opening prayer is said. I wish we knew exactly what to do. But if we really want to know, and want to do what is right, and are willing to do it when we see it, all will be well.

MR. CHARLES VOYSEY'S WORK.

The Appeal read by Mr. Voysey a few Sundays ago, on the occasion of the tenth anniversary of his ministry in London, is interesting in some important respects, notably, in so far as it shows to what extent a free religious teacher, with many of the aids of personal attractiveness, and all the aids of public notoriety, can hope to win and retain a following in large towns. Almost the first word strikes the despondent key-note which runs more or less throughout the address: "It may be wondered at," says Mr. Voysey, "that after ten years we are still without a church, and that our congregation is comparatively small." It is true that the address goes on to express wonder that a movement

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