jerks; and he seems to throw,
like Lord Robert, a particular sense of enjoyment into the motion of his
legs, as though he would get rid of all perilous swagger at that, the
less harmful end of his two extremities--the antipodes of his reason.
Like Lord Robert, too, he has a most pleasant voice, and a slow
deliberate way of speaking, and a warm kindly smile which fades at the
first movement of serious thought, leaving the whole pale face, even the
dark eyes under their heavy brows, almost deathlike in immobility. One
seems to see in such moments the spirit withdraw from the surface of
things to take up its duty at the citadel of the intellect.

The same conflict between temperament and purpose which has prevented
Lord Robert Cecil from taking his place at the head of a Government
prevents Canon Barnes from advancing at the head of modern Churchmen to
the rich future of a depaganised and wholly rational Christianity. His
heart says "Fight," but his reason says "Watch." Fighting is
distasteful; watching is congenial. Besides, while one is watching one
can review all the hypotheses. A man who is not careful in destroying a
fallacy may damage a truth.

But let us be grateful for his public utterances, which show a high
spirit, a noble devotion, an enviable range of culture, and, for the
discerning at least, tell the true time of day. It is one of the
encouraging signs of the period that such distinguished preaching should
have made a mark. Moreover, he is yet three years from fifty, with a
mind so hospitable to growth that it has no room for one of those
prejudices which are the dry-nurses of old age. Those who love truth die
young, whatever their age. Canon Barnes may yet give the Church a proof
of his power to lead--a Church at present aware only of his power to
suggest.

He considers that we are living in a time of revolution, and, judging by
historic precedents, particularly the Renaissance, he thinks we are now
in the second stage of our revolution, which is the most difficult of
all. First, comes the destruction of false ideas--a bracing time for the
born fighter; second, comes the tentative search for new ideas--an
anxious time for the responsible philosopher; third, comes the preaching
of these new ideas with passion--the opportunity of the enthusiast.
Happy were the divines of the seventeenth century!

We, however, are in the second stage.

This is not a period for new ideas: it is a period of searching for th