he had no place in which to worship. "You know," he said, “we Episcopalians are Catholic rather than Protestant, and when we can not have our own church, worship with greater satisfaction in a Catholic Church than in a Protestant one." When Mr. Kinter exprest surprize, he writes, the young man added: “All Henry VIII did was to eliminate the Pope. He did not change the worship or the doctrine of the Church. In these particulars the Church of England remained Catholic." In discussing the Catholic movement, Mr. Kinter writes that heretofore, "the leaders in the various Anglo communions—and this is particularly true of the Protestant Episcopal of the United States-have not felt called upon to repudiate the reforms in doctrine and worship introduced into Western Europe by the Reformation, indeed have incorporated these reforms into their creed and ritual."

"But now there is arising in American Anglicanism a party that does not hesitate to identify the term Catholic with 'Romanism, and feels called upon to repudiate the name Protestant, to look upon the Reformation as a work of darkness and to boldly and openly pledge itself to the task of making the Episcopal Church 'Catholic' in the narrowest sense of that term.

"And we are given further pause when we read that Bishop Brewster, a man who ought by his name to be a low-church Bishop, condescended to open this pro-Catholic Congress and evidently to bid it Godspeed; and that the recent General Convention in New Orleans, tho it must have known this Congress was about to meet, gave out no pronouncement against it."

However, Dr. Frederick Lynch, editor-in-chief of The Christian Work (Undenominational) thinks that the Catholic movement will stop short of Rome. "When it comes to the doctrines," he writes, "the Anglo-Catholic would differ from the Roman Catholic in not accepting the Papacy or believing in its exclusive claim to be the one head of the Church or in its claim of infallibility; in not accepting the doctrine of purgatory, and perhaps some of the seven sacraments; in not making confession obligatory before taking the communion-altho urging it—and in insisting that the authority of the Church should be brought to the test of Scripture." Further, "with the coming of the Catholic party into strength and power in the Anglican communion, they have found a haven, and while there is ardent desire on the part of most Anglo-Catholics for reunion with Rome, there seems no disposition to go over. They are too thoroughly convinced of their own Catholic standing to worry very much about Rome." And to let the chief organ of the Catholic movement say its word, we quote this from The Living Church (Milwaukee):

"We feel that our Catholicism is more true to that of the Undivided Church, in that it has no need for the exaggerated emphasis of the Papal claims, which belief, since the cataclysm of the sixteenth century, has hardened into a dogma in Latin Christendom. We do claim Catholic authority, but it is not of the Papal kind. We do try to bring all men to the full appreciation and use of their Catholic heritage, but it is not by the imposition of authority from without, but by an appeal to the great consensus fidelium, as normative and ultimately satisfactory for the fuller life of the Christian. Vagaries there are in abundance among us, but it is our ideal, be it well or ill-advised, to let them confute themselves in practise, seldom to denounce, and patiently to allow them to work themselves out to their inevitable turn. It is a breadth and largeness rather than a veneration for bigness, and a respect for the individual rather than zeal for mass-production, which distinguishes the not inglorious history of Anglican Churchmanship."

In the opinion of the Liverpool Catholic Times, middle-aged Catholics must often feel tempted to wonder if their eyes deceive them when they read the accounts of proceedings of AngloCatholics at their conferences and their churches. Yet, comments America, a New York Catholic weekly, its English contemporary must perforce look with encouragement on such promising signs of the times. "While, as it notes, our separated brethren will need something more to combat the worldliness about them than the mere copying of the externals of the Catholic Church," continues America, "the fact that these characteristics of Catholicism have lost their erstwhile odiousness in the eyes of Protestants is in itself indicative of a step in the right direction."

I

ROBBING THE CHILD IN THE NAME OF GOD T IS IN THE NAME OF RELIGION that the public schools have been almost stript of religious instruction. That is the significant fact attested by religious leaders, and one of them distributes the blame on the three great branches of religious faith represented in the United States. It is for them, then, to repair the wrong they have done by agreeing on, and putting into effect, some means of giving religious instruction to the child, now practically denied him in many parts of the country. This practical secularization of the schools, says Prof. Luther A. Weigle of Yale, chairman of the Commission on Education, is an incidental result of the working out, under sectarian conditions, of two principles fundamental to American life. The first is the principle of religious freedom, which insures the separation of Church and State and guarantees freedom in religious worship. The second is “the principle of public education for citizenship in a democracy which lays upon the State itself the duty of securing its own perpetuity and shaping its own future by the education of those who, as citizens and voters, constitute its sovereigns." The fulfilment of these principles throughout almost 150 years of our national history, says Professor Weigle, has brought about, on the one hand, a constant increase of emphasis on civic, social and industrial aims in public education, as contrasted with religious aims, and, on the other hand, has put the public schools at the mercy of minorities with respect to matters of religious conviction. The result is the present situation, with the public schools almost completely stript of religious elements. Professor Weigle makes these assertions in an address delivered at the annual convention of the Executive Committee of the Federal Council of Churches, recently held in Detroit, and quoted in the press. As to the responsibility for the condition he portrays, he says:

"It is too often assumed that the blame for this situation rests upon the Jew and Roman Catholics. But the fact is that the Jews have had practically nothing to do with it. The Roman Catholic Church has had a great deal to do in the last half century with the exclusion of the Bible from the schools. But the secularization of public education has been in large part accomplished before the Catholic Church in this country was strong enough to raise its protest.

"Protestant churches must realize that they are quite as much to blame for the present situation as the Catholic Church. The fact is that adherents of all faiths have been far more concerned to see to it that the public schools should not contain any element inconsistent with any of their particular beliefs and practises, than they have been concerned to conserve in these schools the great fundamental principles of religion and morals upon which they all agree."

In this practical exclusion of religion from the public schools, says Professor Weigle, there is great danger. The situation, he believes, will, in time, imperil the future of religion in this country, and, with religion, the future of the nation itself. He goes on:

"For such schools to omit religion is a matter of far more serious consequence than for the schools of a generation ago. The older schools obviously afforded to children but a fraction of their education; the larger, and in many respects the more important, part of education was left to the home and community.

"The principle of the separation of church and State must not be so construed as to render the State a fosterer of non-religion or atheism. Yet that is precisely what we are in danger of doing in America to-day.

"We may expect the public schools to do more in the way of moral and religious education than they have been doing. They can take steps to offset or wholly avoid the negative suggestion involved in the present situation.

"The most potent religious influence in the life of any school is to be found in the moral and religious character of the teacher. The public schools of America are not irreligious because their teachers are almost everywhere men and women of strong moral character and of definite religious conviction. Without the direct teaching of religion, these teachers, by the character of

their discipline and the spirit which they maintain in the life of the schools, have been and are of profound influence in determining the character of American boys and girls.

"Even the religious heterogeneity of our population does not necessitate the present degree of exclusion of religion from public education. It is because we have held our different religious views and practises in so jealous, divisive and partizan a fashion that the State has been obliged to withdraw religion from the curriculum and program of its schools."

Church and synagog, urges Professor Weigle, should realize that they are responsible for a share of the education of American children, and should maintain church schools for the teaching of religion that will match up in point of educational efficiency with the public schools. This plan is now under way, and to Professor Weigle

"It seems clear that the movement is destined to bear permanent results, and that ultimately week-day sessions of the church schools will be as a general rule granted a reasonable portion of the time from the public-school schedules. A demand for time is not the first consideration; churches should begin by making sure that they have a program and curriculum of sufficient educational value to justify the grant of time.

"We may expect that the churches and synagogs will approach one another in mutual understanding and cooperate, more largely and more responsibly than they have hitherto done, in a common educational purpose and policy. They must cease that overemphasis upon differences, to the neglect of their common faith and aspiration, which has been responsible for the present situation.

"Let the various religious bodies agree on an educational policy with respect to their own teaching work and to the sort of recognition that they desire religion to be afforded by and in the public schools. Let them do their share of the education of children in a way that merits recognition, and a fit measure of recognition is made possible and will almost certainly follow."

I

A VICTIM OF CIVILIZATION

'N THE TRAGIC ENDING of "Battling" Siki, the fighter who came out of the jungle and played with the doubleedged tools his white friends gave him, lies a moral for all civilization, thinks the pastor who officiated at the funeral of the "bad boy." Siki, page for an actress, dishwasher, hero during the World War, then dishwasher again, until he found fame in the boxing arena, had all Paris to play in, and the danger of the things he played with he didn't understand. Then he came to the United States-to the end which, perhaps, was a dramatic climax to his life. He was a victim of civilization, said the Rev. A. Clayton Powell, pastor of the Abyssinian Baptist Church of Harlem, New York, at Siki's funeral. "He was known throughout civilization as the 'Jungle Boy,' the 'Singular Senegalese' and the 'Jungle Hercules.' No man ever came out of Africa who lived a more dramatic life or had a more tragic end." Here is the moral, as the minister's sermon is quoted in the New York Sun:

"A lack of proper preparation and a noble purpose were the two dreadful mistakes of his life. Our civilization is perhaps more to blame for these mistakes than he was.

"Emerging from the jungle a little less than twenty years ago, charged with the energy of a Grecian mythological god, he could have been molded into a tremendous force for good, but was allowed to run wild, like uncontrolled and undirected electricity. He left scars upon the body of civilized mankind of which we should all be ashamed.

"A man, born in the heart of Africa, twenty-eight years ago, who could win a Croix de Guerre and a Legion of Honor medal, win forty battles out of forty-two in the prize-ring and have himself proclaimed the light heavyweight champion of the world, surely had something in him that educated people should have developed and directed into a channel of usefulness.

"Had this been done, Battling Siki might have been a René Maran, a Blyden or a Toussaint l'Ouverture.

"To his widow we express the deepest sympathy; to the group he represented we say, 'Beware of his example'; to the people of the civilized world we plead for better treatment of the next Mischievous Boy of the Jungle who comes to live among us."

T

A JEWISH-CHRISTIAN TASK

HE ONE THING in which Jew and Christian have been unable to cooperate is the religious task, we are told; and this is considered all the more strange in that they have been able to pool their brains and energies and consciences for the common good in philanthropy, in civic activities, in education, in commercial and industrial fields. In religious ways, says the Rev. John W. Herring, they have been held resolutely apart. Mr. Herring is secretary of the Federal Council of Churches' Committee on Good Will between Jews and Christians, and it is from an address delivered at a symposium at the Central Congregational Church, Brooklyn, that we quote. The obvious reason for the failure to cooperate in what is perhaps the most important task of all is, says Mr. Herring, that the conviction is ingrained in both Jew and Christian that there are beliefs held by Jews and Christians which are mutually exclusive. "And up until the very recent past," he tells us, "no one has questioned that the all-important thing in religion is the creed." However, Mr. Herring sees coming a change from the notion that mere subscription to a creed is the end and aim of life, and he writes:

"We are beginning to realize that while men must continue to fight with all their strength to keep the flame of belief burning clearly, they must not forget that the final reason for believing is doing. And both Christianity and Judaism have a tremendous job of 'doing' on hand.

"There are many of us who believe with all our hearts that the great problems of to-day, industrial, international, racial, are religious problems. We believe this because they are all of them problems of brotherhood. And the problem of brotherhood is the whole religious problem on the doing side. We firmly believe that it is more necessary to act as brothers than to subscribe to a belief in brotherhood. And when at any point we find our zeal for our particular creed of brotherhood interfering one iota with the practise of brotherhood, then it is time that we turn to that sharp teaching of Jesus of the two servants in which one man says, 'I go,' and goes not; another man says, 'I go not,' but goes. Which is the better servant, asks Jesus.'

The blame for this failure to fulfil the whole duty of brotherhood Mr. Herring places on a false sense of loyalty. He illustrates by citing the loyalty he says is common to the royal houses of Europe. It forbids them from marrying outside the royal circle. They are afraid that the contagion of other bloods will impair their own. "They prefer blue blood to red. But the blood of the prophets," Mr. Herring tells us, "was red. The blood of the Nazarene was red. The blood of the true American is red." So

"The Christian loyalty that is afraid of contacts with the faith of other peoples starves itself. Its blood thins. The first law of nature is self-preservation, but it is the brave man and not the coward that survives. And the brave man looks forward as well as back. He looks out, as well as in. The Christian who shuns contacts with all cultures and religions but his own is a coward, and the handwriting is on his wall."

Nothing is lost; everything may be gained by brotherly contact between groups of different faiths, and, continues Mr. Herring:

"The heart of the whole matter is this, is it not? There are certain great basic needs of the universal soul of man, and certain truths that shine out of these needs. And the greatest of these needs is for love, and the greatest truth is brotherhood. And there are certain special needs of individuals or of groups and certain truths that shine forth from those special needs. Thence comes the legitimate divisions of mankind-the sacred cultures which enrich our common life.

"Will it not follow that if all men are free in an era of active generosity to follow their own souls' needs wherever those needs may lead there will be no loss? Each group will retain its own special richness unchallenged. And what is more, the great truths that are of all mankind will bind us together in the universal harmony, and lift us out of ourselves until our souls beat in the universal rhythm."

W

WORDSWORTH'S desertion of the liberal cause might perhaps seem enough rebuked in Browning's "Just for a handful of silver." But time which had laid a concealing finger on another poetic rebuke now lifts it to reveal Shelley's expression of scorn. The following, printed in the New York Evening Post, is a poem brought to light by Prof. Walter Edwin Peck of Wesleyan from a note-book bequeathed to the Harvard Library in 1902. The Evening Post precedes the poem with this note:

"To appreciate fully the bitterness of Shelley's poem it must be remembered that sixteen years earlier Wordsworth himself still a 'Liberal,' tho no longer the Citizen Wordsworth' of 1792, had celebrated the celandine in a delightful lyric, To the Small Celandine.'

Edward A. Silsbee of Boston, who willed the Shelley note-book to Harvard Library in 1902, penciled in it that Peacock had sent Shelley a celandine from Marlow, in Buckinghamshire, and that is substantiated by a Shelley letter to Thomas Love Peacock, dated July 28, 1816, from Montalgre, near Geneva.'

VERSES WRITTEN ON RECEIVING A CELANDINE IN A LETTER FROM ENGLAND

BY PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

I thought of thee, fair celandine,
As of a flower aery blue

Yet small-thy leaves methought were wet
With the light of the morning dew.
In the same glen thy star did shine
As the primrose and the violet,
And the wild briar bent o'er thee
And the woodland brook danced under thee.

Lovely thou wert in thine own glen
Ere thou didst dwell in song or story;

Ere the moonlight of a poet's mind
Had arrayed thee with the glory
Whose fountains are the hearts of men.
Many a thing of vital mind

Had fed and sheltered under thee,
Had nourished their thoughts near to thee.

Yes, gentle flower in thy recess,

None might a sweeter aspect wear,

The young bird drooped so gracefully Thou wert so very fair

Among the fairest ere the stress

Of exile, death and injury,
Thus withering and deforming thee,
Had made a mournful type of thee.

A type of that whence I and thou
Are thus familiar, celandine-

A deathless poet whose young prime Was as serene as thine;

But he is changed and withered now,

Fallen on a cold and evil time; His heart is gone, his flame is dim, And infamy sits mocking him.

Celandine, thou art pale and dead,
Changed from thy fresh and woodland state.
Oh! that thy bard were cold, but he
Has lived too long and late.
Would he were in an honored grave.

But that, men say, now must not be,
Since he for impious gold could sell
The love of those who loved him well.

That he, with all hope else of good
Should be thus transitory,

I marvel not; but that his lays
Have shared not their own glory.
That blood, even the foul god of blood,
With most inexpiable praise,
Freedom and truth left desolate,
He has been brought to celebrate.

They were his hopes which he doth scorn;
They were his foes and fight that won;
The sanction and that condemnation
Are now forever gone.

They need them not, truth may not mourn
That, with a liar's inspiration
Her Majesty he did disown
Ere he could overlive his own.

They need them not for liberty,
Justice and philosophic truth
From his divine and simple song
Shall draw immortal youth,
When he and thou shalt cease to be

Or be some other thing, so long

As men may breathe or flowers may blossom On the wide earth's maternal bosom.

The stem whence thou wert disunited
Since thy poor self was banished hither,
Now by that priest of nature's care
Who sent thee forth to wither,
His window with its blooms has lighted
And I shall see thy brethren there.
And each, like thee, will aye betoken
Love sold, hope dead and honor broken.

IT seemed to one of our readers that so little had been written of James Lane Allen since his death-therefore this tribute, from The Lyric West, is passed on to a larger audience.

VOICES

To James Lane Allen

BY VIRGINIA STAIT

"I should like the memory of my life to give out the sound of a flute."-The Choir Invisible.

I am not dead, I think,

But all unlessoned where the dead should know, For every pipe that plays is still the link For thought to come and go!

The lyre strings are dear,

And bring me to a halting place of dreams, That every convoy takes down every year, And every ghost redeems.

And all the organ tones

Of ancientry still pass my narrow door, And I march with the chords one longer owns When longer heard before!

And harp by harp I keep,

With falas that the day and night have sung, Unto immitigable things of sleep, Unto vales restrung.

But oh, the flute to me

Brings the abiding-places of the past As close as close as shipwreck to the sea, Or flesh to dust made fast!

THE nostalgic yearning for a home country is stronger in some races than in others. Perhaps the people who wander most feel it most keenly. Many will find a kindred thrill in this in The Century.

HERITAGE

BY MARIE BLAKE

Why should the mountains confuse me with rapture?
Storm at my heart till I see them through tears?
Weigh me with wistfulness past all the telling?
Sound the high bugles my errant soul hears?
Is it the magic of other hills calling.
The hills of my fathers, across the long years?

Child of a race that knew stretching horizons,
Far-climbing headlands all misty with rain,
Slopes of soft emerald starred thick with primrose,
Vista and vision: half beauty, half pain-
Here's why the mountains confuse me with rapture:
The green hills of Ireland call me again!

ONE may perhaps enjoy the pain of a remembered lost bargain more than the mere pleasure of possession. Would the Hakluyt purchased have inspired lines equal to these in The Atlantic Monthly?

HAKLUYT UNPURCHASED

BY FRANKLIN MCDUFFEE

Man is a fool and a bag of wind!

Or was it madness that stopped my buying The old brown Hakluyt I chanced to find At twelve and sixpence, dustily lying

With shilling shockers? An if 'twere here
I'd kick off shoes and pull on slippers
And settle back to my brier and beer
For a windy voyage with Hakluyt's skippers.

Up the blue sea and down the sky
To Java Head or warm Cipango,
With albatrosses floating by

And a wind that whistles of spice and mango:

Into the ice with Frobisher's men,

Or south with Raleigh to seek Guiana,
In the Jesus of Lubeck with Hawkins then
To plunder the dons of smug Habana,

And east.... But my ale is dregs and lees,
My pipe won't draw, and I, besotted,
The sport of devils-I failed to seize
On the rich old tome till another got it.

And so, instead of an offshore gale
And a tropical sea and a lion skipper,
I sit and blow at my mug of ale

And stare at a toe through a toeless slipper.

CENTRAL PARK's daily peril of encroachment needs to be kept in mind. The Times brings forward this eloquent plea of "Hands off!"

CENTRAL PARK

BY ARTHUR GUITERMAN

What place have garish towers in Edenglade,
Or marble cenotaphs in Fairyland?
Shall haughty majesty again invade

Poor Naboth's vineyard? Shall the heavy hand
Be laid on Beauty? Little can they know,
Beloved acres, what so well we knew—
Your charm that blessed our childhood long ago,
The heritage we guard as childhood's due.

Light-footed urchins on the green,
Rosy-faced babies on the Mall.
The sparkling lake where willows lean
And clear, blue sky above them all.

Adventures such as Froissart never told
Your crags remember-battles, ambuscades,

Discoveries of hoarded pirate gold.

Intrepid rescues, whooping Indian raids; And here were Crusoe's island, Arden wood,

Aladdin's cave among your rocky shelves.
And here we drew the bow with Robin Hood,
And from your coverts peered unnumbered
elves.

High-hearted lads who storm the steep,
Prim little maids in group and ring,
Moss-covered rocks where fountains leap
And cool, dim groves where thrushes sing.
Times change, men change, but childhood changes
not;

Among these walls that gloom and spires that gleam

Let childhood keep its one unburdened spot
Wherein to play the play and dream the dream.
Then here though on our island here, alone-
Shall Nature rule and Fancy hold her spell;
Usurping tyrannies of steel and stone,
We yield no inch and ye shall take no ell!