Every judgment given by the authorized tribunals of the Establishment on matters of doctrine recognizes by implication that the real strength of the Church of England lies in the indifference of the English people to dogmatic truth. We quote the words of Mr. Wilberforce: That which dishonors the Church of England in the judgment of all other Christians, whether Catholic or Protestant, is its great merit in the eyes of its own members. They want to profess their various religions, from Calvinism to semi‐popery, without impediment, and the Church of England is the only community in the world in which they can do it. Even professed unbelievers desire to maintain that institution for the same reason. A church which teaches nothing is in their judgment the next best thing to no church at all; thus the _Pall Mall Gazette_ often writes against Christianity, but never against the Church of England. What unbelievers fear is a church which claims to be divine and which teaches only one religion. “We have a regard,” says the rationalistic _Saturday Review_, “selfish it may be, but very sincere, for the Church of England as an eminently useful institution. If the Liberation Society chuckles over the revelation of a ‘divided church,’ the only way to check‐mate it is to make all varieties of doctrine equally lawful, though they are mutually contradictory.” Again: when such a man as Lord Selborne says that the opposition to the archbishop’s bill is based on the idea that “every clergyman is to be his own pope,” and Lord Hatherley that “every one was determined to have his own way,” and the Bishop of Peterborough that “those clergymen who were so loud in crying out against the tyranny of the bishops arrogated to themselves a right to do exactly what they pleased”; “every clergyman wishing that there should be _excipienda_ in favor of the practices in which he himself indulged, but objected to include those of his neighbor in the list,” and that “every one was equally anxious to be himself exempted from prosecution, and equally jealous of the power of prosecuting his neighbor”—the real character of the so‐called “Catholic revival” in the Protestant Church of England was acknowledged by the most eminent partisans of that institution. Ritualism, they perceive, is simply Protestantism and the right of private judgment in their extremest form. How vain it is to exorcise such a spirit in a sect founded on the right of revolt, and so utterly indifferent to positive truth that, as the Bishop of Peterborough frankly confessed, the word compromise is written all over the pages of the Anglican Prayer‐Book, was undesignedly admitted by Lord Salisbury. “There were,” he said, “three parties in the church, which might be described as the Sacramental, the Emotional, and the Philosophical, and the great problem to be solved was how to reconcile their views.” The problem, he knows, is insoluble. The very men who profess to revive Catholic dogma can only suggest a “considerate