either as mere nuisances or as potential sources of revenue by precocious mendicancy, who neglect them in every respect except in so far as neglect brings punishment-it is these that need the stimulus of coercion in the matter of sending their children to school. Their children must find in the schools, to which the school-attendance officers drive them, all the education, in the good sense, which they will receive. The school teacher is to them parent and clergyman as well. The Royal Commission of 1888 reported that there were ' vast numbers, especially in our large cities,' in this situation. All our evidence,' say the Commissioners, has gone to show that the present staff of ministers of all Churches and denominations, as well as the many various existing religious associations and societies, are much too few in number, in proportion to the population, to supply the religious training of these children. For the mass therefore of the children above described we must put on record our opinion that if they do not receive religious instruction and training from the teachers in the public elementary schools they will receive none, and that is a matter of the gravest concern to the State.'

It is important thus clearly to set forth the main issue of the controversy in order that the mind may not be confused by its tiresome and often exasperating details. That the nation as a whole is weary of the conflict needs no saying; that the higher interest of the nation demands its prompt cessation is obvious. It would seem that the time has arrived for the emergence on the field of debate of those broad considerations of common-sense and good feeling which have hitherto been crowded out by the recriminations of partisans on both sides. It is to this conclusion that the present review of the controversy is designed to lead.

The defeat of Mr. Birrell's Bill altered for the worse the prospects of religious education in the elementary schools, for not only did it seem to demonstrate the impossibility of persuading the responsible leaders of Anglicanism to accept an arrangement by which denominational instruction should retain a place within schools which had ceased to be denominational, but also it involved so great an exaggeration of denominational differences and so miserable an excitement of religious passions that all hope of reasonable discussion seemed to vanish. In the interval which has passed since the rejection of the Bill, a distinct change of feeling has made its presence felt within and without the ranks of English Churchmen, and although the men who wrecked the fair hopes of a national settlement at the end of 1906 are still as reckless and confident as ever, there are many signs that they are no longer accepted as trustworthy exponents of popular opinion on either side of the great controversy. It is no uncommon thing to hear regrets for the failure of Mr. Birrell's measure expressed even by men who lent themselves more or less actively to the vehement agitation by which that failure was effected; and it may fairly be supposed that,

if the secrets of all hearts were disclosed, the acknowledgment of such regrets would be seen to bear but a small proportion to the number of those who feel them. Thus there has been a certain improvement in the temper of Churchmen, which may be set against the worsening of the general situation. The new Education Bill must be judged less on its merits than in relation to the general situation which the rejection of Mr. Birrell's measure has created. Its author has described it both as a 'sword' and as an 'olive-branch'; and the descriptions, though hard to reconcile, are not inapplicable. The Bill has both characters: it is a 'sword' in the single-school districts, and an 'olive-branch' in the rest of the country. In the one, the attempt to find some working arrangement for perpetuating denominational instruction within the schools has not been renewed, and since in its default nothing remained but either an acceptance of the existing system or its abolition sans phrase, the Government has naturally adopted the latter course in the other, the suggestion of 'contracting out,' which appeared to commend itself to some leaders of denominationalism a year ago, has been adopted. It is difficult to blame the Government either for accepting as final the violent refusal of Mr. Birrell's proposals for the rural schools, or for crediting with sincerity the language as to the policy of' contracting out' which was freely used by Churchmen in the course of the controversy which preceded the final rejection of his Bill. The Government is fairly entitled to demand that these circumstances shall not be left out of reckoning when the present Bill is under discussion. It represents not the best policy in itself, but the best possible in the actual situation. In placing the new proposals before Parliament care has been taken to make it clear that they will not be renewed. This, we are assured, is the last attempt which the Liberal party will make to preserve in a State system of elementary schools the teaching of religion as a regular element in education. Apart from assurances to this effect, it could hardly be supposed by any serious observer of the course of public opinion that after two Bills had been rejected by the advocates of denominational religion any Liberal Government would repeat the vain effort which had already wasted so much Parliamentary time and endangered so much electoral support. None can fail to observe the growing impatience of the non-denominational public. The Labour members are perhaps better entitled to attention, when elementary education is the subject under discussion, than any other section of the House of Commons, for they alone have a clear right to plead a direct personal concern in the conduct of schools to which their own children are compelled to resort; they alone can with a clear title speak for the parents; and they better than the rest can appraise the actual effect of these controversies on the ordinary procedure of the schools. It is deeply and sadly suggestive that the Labour members are professedly favourable to what is called the secular system of education, and that on no

ground of dislike to Christianity, but solely on that of a disgust of denominational strife. The Labour members have other uses to which they desire to put the time of Parliament than that of hearing the wearisome iteration of worn-out platitudes which have been dinned into their ears for years past, and have long lost all interest and relevance. They do not wish to learn from the orators of the Opposition what are the first principles of parental duty and the primary needs of the children of the working classes. In truth these educational debates are becoming not only wearisome but ridiculous, and the danger is neither unreal nor remote that, if the present situation is protracted, the cause of religion in the State schools will be lost in an outburst of irrepressible contempt. In these circumstances an opportunity is presented to those numerically small, but well-organised and persistent, factions, which desire the secularising of the national system of education for reasons, which have little to do with the interest of education. The secularist and the sacerdotalist find their advantage when fundamental Christianity is disavowed by Christian men, and the notion of a common teaching of religion to English childrer is ridiculed by the very persons who might be supposed most eagerly to desire it. The Labour members, however, are not alone in their disgust of the religious controversy; the ordinary citizen, who is after all the principal factor in English politics, though commonly the factor which comes latest into the discussion of controverted questions, is also growing impatient his intelligence, which though somewhat slow is generally sound, is taking account of the men who obstruct a settlement of a dispute which no longer interests or amuses, and it is not favourably impressed. How long, he begins to ask, is the road to be blocked by this parsons' quarrel? When will the white ties and cassocks be swept out of the arena? Even the ordinary citizen shows signs of restiveness, and begins to make it clear that unless a settlement is reached, and that quickly, he is well disposed to let the secularist factions have their way and make peace in their own fashion. Yet this impatience, eminently natural and little to be blamed, is a temper equally unfortunate and unreasonable, and if it be allowed to determine the final settlement of this long controversy will, as we have pointed out, inflict on the nation a deep and lasting injury. It is the purpose of this paper, first, to state the problem which awaits solution, next to appraise the interests which have to be reckoned with, and to examine some much-pressed contentions which confuse the issues at stake. Finally, it is designed to indicate some reasons why the present writer is disposed to think that Mr. McKenna's Bill, although in its present form unacceptable, might be the basis of an educational settlement.

I. THE PROBLEM STATED

The denominational schools represent a past phase of English politics, a phase in which the Government of the country was still largely in the hands of the upper classes, when the traditions of the aristocratic epoch were still powerful, when throughout the rural districts the parson and the squire, representing the allied and dominant interests of Church and land, ruled without serious rivalry. Education crept slowly into recognition as the humble handmaid of the parochial system. The knowledge of the three R's was charitably provided to the villagers by the same persons, and with the same sentiments, as those which bestowed the gifts at Christmas, and interfered with patriarchal freedom in the economy of the cottages. It may be frankly admitted, as indeed in justice it should be admitted, that from hall and rectory much good was bestowed upon the dependent communities of rustic folk, that in the actual ignorance which clouded their minds, and the deeply impressed habit of submission which enfeebled their character, this patriarchal government was indispensable. Obviously, however, these conditions could not last when the democratic changes which marked the nineteenth century began to have their effect. The control of the village schools is almost the last vestige of the præ-democratic epoch, and its survival is due to causes which are not wholly creditable to the English character. When in 1870 the nation recognised its concern with the education of the people, it found this network of denominational schools in existence, and it accepted what it found as the basis of a system which should correspond with the actual requirements of a rapidly increasing population. The cities compelled the interference of the nation, for in the cities the aristocratic system could not pretend to satisfy the popular necessities. In the thirty-eight years which have passed since a national obligation in the matter of education was recognised, two things of cardinal importance have happened. The rural districts have ceased to be isolated; and the democracy has attained self-conscious maturity. It is no longer possible to maintain an aristocratic régime in the country; the government of hall and rectory must give place to popular government. It is easy to show that the change will in many directions be a change for the worse, that the squire and the parson were often far better informed and larger minded men than the ruling villagers; that many mistakes have been and are being made, and much money wasted under the new arrangements; but all this will not affect the question. The demand of the democracy is self-government, not good government, and the only road to good government is, on democratic principles, self-government. It ought to be the postulate of the educational controversy that denominational schools eo nomine should cease, and be replaced by schools which are, in the full sense of the term, public schools.

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Indeed, it might seem that this postulate had been conceded by all parties, for it has been formally accepted in Parliament by the leaders of both sides that public control and no religious tests for State servants-the two grand conditions of the public service in a free modern democracy-shall henceforth prevail in the educational system of the country. These two conditions are manifestly destructive of the denominational school, the one of its administrative arrangements, the other of its religious atmosphere.' The problem which emerges from this situation is that of the possibility of including religion in the curriculum of schools which are controlled by the public, and have teachers who are religiously untested. Let it be noted that, even if in recognition of the past services of the denominations, and in consideration of the great economy thus effected, the democracy could have waived its natural and legitimate demand, there were two reasons why this dereliction of duty was impossible. The Nonconformists declined any longer to acquiesce in the denominational system; and the denominations perforce confessed themselves quite unable to maintain it. When the public contributions to the denominational schools had increased until, by the Act of 1902, the entire cost of maintenance had been transferred to the State, it became manifest that denominationalism was as an educational instrument exhausted, and that the hour of its formal extinction had struck.' The democracy must take over the control, as it has already taken over the maintenance, of the schools. Must this new control necessitate the secularising of the curriculum? The answer to this question turns on a single point. If religious teaching is impossible save in denominational forms, then clearly a State system must be secular, but if there be among the masses of the citizens a general religious agreement, which, albeit compatible with a large variety of denominational systems, is capable of finding effective expression in a common teaching of fundamentals, then there can be no valid reason why the educational scheme, which reflects the will of the nation as a whole, should not include such a teaching of those fundamentals with respect to which a true agreement exists. Here it may be objected that in point of fact the religion of the nation is denominational, and can only be truly represented by denominational teaching. It is even rged in some quarters that by ruling out denominational teaching the democracy is sinning against its own principles, and in the vulgar phrase, 'cutting off its nose to spite its face.' An examination of the facts, however, will show that if there be any national Christianity, that is any Christianity generally accepted by the masses of the people, it is certainly not denominational

1 It is, however, but fair to remember that the 'intolerable strain' which compelled the legislation of 1902 had its origin solely in the constant increase of the cost of education. The contributions of the supporters of denominational schools, so far from falling off, had considerably increased; but they could not keep pace with the ever-waxing requirements of national education.