mons; but he was not disposed to yield to what looked so like dictation. All the officiousness of the ruling spirits of Salem, together with the accompanying littleness and vulgarity, kept up a perpetual irritation in the minister's mind; he resented their interference, and could not altogether disguise his feelings; and we, the outside spectators, see portents of an approaching storm.

The sky, however, becomes more tranquil for a short season, under the influence of an incident which had occurred in that other part of the story upon which we have abstained from entering. He had been vexed by a seeming slight, and wanted a subject on which to expend some portion of his redundant irritation. It was only necessary to inform deacon Tozer that he was willing to deliver a course of lectures on the Church and State question, to set that functionary at work to procure the use of the Town Hall, even though it might be at his own expense. The lectures were attended by crowds. New seatrenters were attracted to Salem. Everything appeared full of promise. The people of Carlingford now knew that a man of considerable power was the pastor of Salem. He had confirmed existing prejudices; had started difficulties and doubts in the minds of those who had not before thought on the subject; and had quickened those antipathies without which the connexion cannot be compactly held together.

But he had troubles of which they knew nothing, and others in which he received no sympathy, and which were chiefly viewed by the authorities in their bearings upon the interests of their chapel. If he went from home, or failed to appear at their "teas," or was somewhat impracticable when he visited their back parlours, no spice of charity was to be discovered in the construction which they put upon his conduct; nor any recognition of his right to judge and act for himself. They "spoke their minds," which meant that they gave vent to their rudeness and ill-temper,-and they prided themselves on doing so. They discussed him in his absence as one on whose attentions they had claims, because they paid him; and they took care that he should understand that such was their opinion, and that such were their expectations.

Progressively things grew worse. The young minister rebelled against the straitness of his position, and treated with a contempt too evident to be mistaken the grievance of the young and old ladies of the connexion, and of the deacons themselves. When he had preached a great sermon, and deacon Tozer had persuaded his brother deacons, with some little difficulty, to go into the vestry to praise it, they found that the minister was gone, whereas they held it to be his duty to wait and know their judgment; and they were in high dudgeon at his too hasty departure. This hastened on the crisis

on their parts. It advanced not less surely on his own. A conclave sat in Tozer's back-parlour. Mr. Vincent took counsel with himself, and grew more and more resolute and impracticable. Sunday came. After the sermon, Tozer made his way to the pulpit, with a paper in his hand, prepared to give out a notice. Vincent at once determined to read the notice himself, and took it from the hand of the embarrassed deacon. When the hymn was ended, he read the notice, calling a meeting of the congregation on the following evening. He then added that he had not been asked to attend that meeting, and that he now invited them all to meet him in the same place on the Tuesday evening, adding that probably the business would be much the same on both occasions.

On that memorable Monday evening the schoolroom was filled with people. Mr. Pigeon, poulterer and deacon, a heavy orator, rose to address the assembly. He said that they had come there that night to discuss Mr. Vincent. "The managers had made up their minds as it was a dooty to lay things before the flock. Mr. Vincent was but a young man, and most in that congregation was ready to make allowances; and as for misfortunes as might have happened to him, he wasn't a-going to lay that to the pastor's charge, nor take no mean advantages. He was for judging a man on his merits, he was. If they was to take Mr. Vincent on his merits without no prejudice, they would find as he hadn't carried out the expectations as was formed of him."

Mrs. Pigeon was triumphant at the effectiveness of her husband's speech. Mrs. Tozer and her daughter, on the other hand, were evidently laughing at the speaker. The congregation showed signs of weariness, but that was all. The retired minister spoke next, but his maundering speech was neither hot nor cold on the main question, and he chiefly flattered himself and the people.

"Mr. Tufton's 'it it," said a voice; "we've been a deal too generous, that's what we've been, and he's turned on us." Another pronounced that he was "too high-minded," and that "them lectures and things was never nothing but vanity." Then Tozer rose up; and it was time he did so, for " suggestions of discontent were surging among the audience." There were symptoms of a coming storm. The good butterman began by expressing his disapproval of holding a meeting without a chairman, after which he proceeded to grapple with his subject.

"What I've got to say to you, ladies and gentlemen, ain't no grumbling nor reflecting upon them as is absent and can't defend themselves. . . . I think us Salem folks, as ought to know better, is a-quarrelling with our bread and butter, and don't know when we're well off. Yes, ladies and gentlemen,

them's my sentiments! We don't know when we're well off; and if we don't mind, we'll find out how matters really is, when we've been and disgusted the pastor, and drove him to throw it all up." He reminded them how many, who had entered the ministry in their connexion, had been driven out of it by "them as is always ready to dictate." He spoke of their minister's talents, of the crowding of Salem chapel, and of his being judged, not by the fulfilment of his duties, "but it's if he's seen going to one house more nor another, or if he calls often enough on this one or t'other, and goes to all the tea-drinkings." He said,-" You mark what I say. It's what we're doing most places, us Dissenters. Them as is talented and promisin', and can get a better living working for the world than working for the chapel, and won't give in to be worried about calling here and calling there,-we're a-driving of them out of the connexion, that's what we're doing. I could reckon up as many as six or seven as has been drove off already." He assured them that he would not give in to such tyranny, warned them that its consequences would be injurious to the denomination, talked about toleration and freedom of conscience, and declared himself a determined supporter of Mr. Vincent.

The assembly was now as enthusiastic in his favour as before it was uncertain. Another speaker, a young man, declared how Mr. Vincent's lectures on Church and State had opened his eyes; and resolutions of support and sympathy for the minister were carried by the Salemites by acclamation.

But Tuesday was yet to come. Tozer employed the interval in persuading Mr. Vincent to convert the meeting, which the worthy deacon feared, into a pleasant tea, over which the past might be forgotten, and a new beginning of harmony might be inaugurated. The minister was firm; but he rather expressed by his manner than his words that his determination was made, and would not be altered.

The schoolroom was full. Unknown to the pastor, the walls had been adorned with evergreen wreaths and artificial flowers, and over the platform were the words "Love one another." Contrary to his wishes, and taking all but one by agreeable surprise, a tea had been provided by Tozer. Mr. Vincent's arrival was greeted with vociferous applause. As he made

his way up the room, the people were all "smiles and conscious

favour." He alone looked annoyed and stern. A chair was set, but he refused to preside, and Tozer was appointed chairman. When tea was over, that worthy man rose, and observed that "the minister had no call to take no further trouble in the way of explanations." The suggestion was received with a storm of applause. But matters were not to be so easily settled. The minister stood up. He referred to the text over

his head; and after some dark sentences respecting its meaning, he asked, "Cannot we take hands, and help each other through this troubled journey?" and then, pausing and looking them all in the face, he answered," No! not in the world, not in the Church,-nowhere on earth can we be unanimous, except by moments. We throw our brother down, and then extend a hand to him in charity; but we have lost the art of standing side by side." He told them that he should leave them, and that he should cease to be their minister from that very night; and he explained to them why he resigned his charge.

"It was you who elected me, it is you who have censured me, it was you last night who consented to look over my faults, and give me a new trial. I am one of those who have boasted in my day that I received my title to ordination from no bishop, from no temporal provision, from no traditionary church; but from the hands of the people. Perhaps I am less sure than I was at first, when you were all disposed to praise me, that the voice of the people is the voice of God; but however that may be, what I received from you I can but render up to you. I resign into your hands your pulpit, which you have erected with your money, and hold as your property. I cannot hold it as your vassal. If there is any truth in the old phrase which calls a church a cure of souls, it is certain that no cure of souls can be delegated to a preacher by the souls themselves who are to be his care. I find my old theories inadequate to the position in which I find myself, and all I can do is to give up the post where they have left me in the lurch. I am either your servant, responsible to you; or God's servant, responsible to Him-which is it? I cannot tell; but no man can serve two masters, as you know."

He quitted the ministry, betook himself to a literary life, and was believed in Carlingford to have been the founder of The Philosophical Review, "that new organ of public opinion."

It is often said that more strange things happen occasionally in real life than fiction ventures to represent. We have watched the denominational portion of this tale without detecting anything like exaggeration. This fiction appears to be at least not beyond the real experiences of dissenting life. The constitution of these communities is not a whit less anarchical; and the treatment of the minister of religion by the people will naturally be such as is here so graphically depicted, so long as the relationship between them and him, whether described in good English or bad, is chiefly felt to be this,"It's we as pays him."

The actual exposure of what often happens in chapel-life could scarcely be made. It would be almost libellous, and would necessarily involve the intrusion of much personal ani

mosity. Fiction, the result of generalization, but grounded on a mixed foundation of fact and probability, is a more harmless method of bringing the real state of things before the public mind. But, in some way, this so-called voluntary system requires, under present circumstances, to be carefully examined in all its bearings. The result may be, that a few deacons will be led to see and correct the faults into which their place of eminence tempts them; but it certainly must be to arouse Churchmen to struggle manfully against the introduction of such terrible evils into the Church of this country, to the destruction of the usefulness of the clergy, and the deterioration of their character. May a gracious Providence defend this Church and nation from any such calamity.

NOTICES OF NEW BOOKS.

The Negeb, or South Country of Scripture. By the Rev. Edward Wilton, M.A., Oxon., Incumbent of Scofton, Notts, and Chaplain to the Earl of Galloway. Macmillan & Co.-The appearance of this unpretending but learned and ingenious volume is very seasonable. It would, at any time, have claimed the attention of the student of sacred history and geography; but in the present day there is special cause for our welcoming the author's advent into the field of biblical criticism, where men of sound faith and acknowledged learning are so greatly needed to withstand the attacks of the adversaries of the Truth. There was a time when earnest men, anxious to devote their whole energies to the great work of evangelization, might have treated a volume of this kind with less respect than it deserved; but recent controversies have taught us to value the labours of the unobtrusive scholar who applies his intimate knowledge of the sacred languages, and his large acquaintance with Eastern literature, to the elucidation of Scripture difficulties, and to the demonstration of the minute accuracy and plenary inspiration of every part of God's Word.

It is refreshing to see, in the volume before us, how an obscure portion of the Book of Joshua, which is generally passed over with the most cursory perusal, may be elucidated and illuminated by the microscope of accurate scholarship and a sound and "single eye." Let our readers turn to Joshua xv. 21-32, and what could appear more hopeless and uninteresting than the string of outlandish names he will there find. "The uttermost cities southward (i.e. the cities of the Negeb) were Kabzul, and Eder, and Jagur, and Kinah, and Dimonah, and Adadah, and Kedesh, and Hazor, and Ithnan, Zeph, and Tilem, and Bealoth, and Hazor, Hadattah, and Kerioth, and Hezron, which is Hazor, Amam, and Shema, and Moladah, and Hazangaddah, and Hoshmen, and Beth-palet, and Hazar-shual, and Beersheba, and Bisjothjah, Baalah, and Jim, and Azem, and Heltolad, and Chesil, and Hormah, and Ziklag, and Madmannah, and Sansannah, and Lebaoth,