Yet a nation that does its duty does well.
In a large sense the words of Mr. Dickens are true, that "the two peoples are essentially one." It is English blood that runs in American veins. We speak a common tongue. Our towns, our hearths, our laws, government, manners and habits, national tastes and tempers, bear witness of the ties between the two nations. England's heroes and saints and sages, are ours; her high thoughts and great deeds are ours; ours are her immortal battle-fields and her historic renown; all that England has been save for a single century, we claim with pride as our heritage. And while we stand together with this common background, how closely the futures of the two nations may be interknit no one can say; we only know that war between such lands would be little better than civil war, and that it is a twice-blessed sign in the heavens, when the grim clouds furl away.
CHURCHES AND AMUSEMENTS.
In her last book, the admirable "Chimney Corner" essays, Mrs. Stowe, to answer the question "How shall we be amused?" makes one of her mouthpieces say:
I think if the different churches of a city would rent a building, where there should be a billiard-table one or two ninepin-alleys, a reading-room, a garden, and grounds for ball-playing or innocent lounging, that they would do more to keep their young people from the ways of sin than a Sunday-school could. Nay more, I would go further. I would have a portion of the building fitted up with scenery and a stage, for the getting up of tableaux or dramatic performances, and thus give scope for the exercise of that histrionic talent of which there is so much lying unemployed in society.
An influential religious newspaper objects to this suggestion, saying, "Think of Paul dancing or Peter playing billiards! Do you think we shall have checker-boards in heaven?"
I doubt whether Christopher Crowquill, and those of his way of thinking, will be convinced by this line of logic "Think of Paul dancing?" But why not think of Paul dancing as easily as of David dancing?—the Psalmist danced. Why not as easily think of Paul dancing as of Paul singing, or dusting the cloak that Timothy brought from Troas? We may be sure he would do it in the "time to dance," and in a worthy manner. Some of us have seen, without displeasure, a white-haired sire, a venerable and devout man, gravely escorting through the figures of a family dance, at the old homestead, his light-footed, golden-haired grandchild, happy in the reflected sunshine of her innocent mirth. "Think of Peter playing billiards!" That, I own, would be difficult—as great an anachronism as to think of his discharging a pistol at the servant Malchus, in place of drawing a sword and cutting off his ear. Yet I have seen famous and devout clergymen, who are doing great service in the world (though they do not claim to be apostolic descendants of Peter), playing a very good game at billiards, under befitting circumstances. I have seen other good men and women playing at tivoli and croquet, which are, so to speak, billiards resolved into its factors. No, we do not conceive of Peter with a cue in his hand in place of a crosier; neither do we conceive of him with a white cravat; though I do not think this last to be, on that account, objectionable per se. As for the checker-board, I honestly think there will be "checker-boards in heaven," if there are any boards at all.
Mrs. Stowe, I repeat, will like the editor's method of retort, because it will strengthen her position. Besides, it is her own premise, after all, that her opponent adopts, with a different conclusion. He, also, evidently wishes the churches to select public amusements, but has a different theory of selection. Mrs. Stowe thinks they should not consist of religious instruction, or, perhaps, the "secular" half of a religious newspaper (which secular moiety, of course, is never read on Sunday, and if the the editors suspected it was they would discontinue printing it), or a juvenile picnic in summer, or the Dorcas "circle" in winter—and prefers bowling, billiards, and backgammon, dancing and the drama. Clearly, if thus stated, the question is one of taste and temperament between critic and Crowquill.
But I surmise that the "Chimney Corner" project is impracticable for a different reason, and one involving the main principle of the essay, so far as it proposes that churches shall "take possession of the out-
