s place to pass over in silence if too much was not at
stake to warrant a course from which I shall only depart with sincere
reluctance. Need I say that I allude to the vexed question of the
Athanasian Creed?" The great discourse which was thus introduced, with
its strong argument for the retention of the Creed as it stands, has
long been the property of the Church, and there is no need to
recapitulate it. But the concluding words, extolling "the high and rare
grace of an intrepid loyalty to known truth," spoke with a force of
personal appeal which demands commemoration: "To be forced back upon the
central realities of the faith which we profess; to learn, better than
ever before, what are the convictions which we dare not surrender at any
cost; to renew the freshness of an early faith, which affirms within us,
clearly and irresistibly, that the one thing worth thinking of, worth
living for, if need were, worth dying for, is the unmutilated faith of
Jesus Christ our Lord,--these may be the results of inevitable
differences, and, if they are, they are blessings indeed."[13]

The same Sunday was marked by another unforgettable experience--my first
visit to St. Barnabas'. The church was then just three years old. Bishop
Wilberforce had consecrated it on the 19th of October, 1869, and made
this characteristic note in his diary:--"Disagreeable service. Acolyte
running about. Paste squares for bread, etc., but the church a great
gift." Three years later, a boy fresh from Harrow, and less sensitively
Protestant than the good Bishop, not only thought "the church a great
gift," but enjoyed the "acolyte running about," and found the whole
service the most inspiring and uplifting worship in which he had ever
joined. My impressions of it are as clear as yesterday's--the unadorned
simplicity of the fabric, emphasizing by contrast the blaze of light and
colour round the altar; the floating cloud of incense; the expressive
and unfussy ceremonial; the straightforward preaching; and, most
impressive of all, the large congregation of men, old and young, rich
and poor, undergraduates and artisans, all singing Evangelical hymns
with one heart and one voice. It was, if ever there was on earth,
congregational worship; and I, for one, have never seen its like. The
people's pride in the church was very characteristic: they habitually
spoke of it as "our Barnabas." The clergy and the worshippers were a
family, and the church was a home.

At th