IN the year 1874 I lost my old friend, Thomas Binney. His pre-eminent position amongst Dissenters was attested by copious notices in newspapers, and, by the scene at his funeral. That position arose from several causes—his character, abilities, pulpit popularity, and personal appearance, manifold and far-reaching sympathies, and a genial nature, characteristic of the best Englishmen. His influence in the Congregational denomination throughout the country was aided by the central position of the Weigh-House when London was different from what it is now; {230} by strangers from the provinces who flocked there as to a centre; by visits to various parts of the country at Nonconformist festivals; and by the transfer of so many members of his Church to other congregations throughout the land. Nor do I forget how his name came to be known, beyond that of any other of our ministers, throughout the British colonies, owing to his being the father and founder of the Colonial Missionary Society, and the guide and counsellor of many youths going to seek their fortune in America or the South Seas. Still further was his popularity owing to a visit he paid some years ago to Australia. Also, when I was in Canada, I often heard of a less public visit paid to that country at an earlier period. Amongst the many subjects in which my friend felt interested, was that of improvement in conducting Nonconformist worship; he gave his views respecting it in an appendix to a work on Liturgies, by the Rev. E. H. Baird of New York. I refer to this subject particularly, because to a considerable extent I sympathised with him; not, however, in consequence of his arguments, but from previous convictions, which, during late years, have become stronger than ever. The authority for excluding all liturgical worship from our places of assembly, neither he nor I could ever understand. I see nothing in Scripture which ties a Christian down to this perverse one-sidedness. On the contrary, both methods are sanctioned in the Old and New Testaments. My experience since retiring from the pastorate has strongly confirmed my previous impressions. When leading public worship, as I did for so many years, my utterances of devotion were spontaneous, and I am sure imperfect; but what was obvious enough before, though sometimes overlooked, came home to my feelings when listening to words in public devotion, often unadapted to inspire or guide supplication and praise. Further, extempore words, though _free_ to the speaker, are, to all intents and purposes, _a form_ to the hearers; and if a form in extempore speech, when thoroughly suitable, be proper, why is not a form in written language? Since I have become deaf, and often cannot catch a brother’s supplications, a form which I can _read_ must obviously be preferable to one which I am unable to understand. Extempore public devotion, under many circumstances is of