train; and I believe that in order to cultivate the religious
sense in them, the first duty of all is to make religion attractive,
and resolutely to put aside all that tends to make it a weariness.

As to doctrinal and dogmatic instruction, I cannot feel that, at a
school, the chapel is the place for that; the boys here get a good deal
of religious instruction, and Sunday is already too full, if anything,
of it. I believe that the chapel is the place to make them, if
possible, love their faith and find it beautiful; and if you can secure
that, the dogma will look after itself. The point is, for instance,
that a boy should be aware of his redemption, not that he should know
the metaphysical method in which it was effected. There is very little
dogmatic instruction in the Gospels, and what there is seems to have
been delivered to the few and not to the many, to the shepherds rather
than to the flocks; it is vital religion and not technical that the
chapel should be concerned with.

As to the theory of praise, I cannot help feeling that the old idea
that God demanded, so to speak, a certain amount of public recognition
of His goodness and greatness is a purely savage and uncivilised form
of fetish-worship; it is the same sort of religion that would attach
material prosperity to religious observation; and belongs to a time
when men believed that, in return for a certain number of sacrifices,
rain and sun were sent to the crops of godly persons, with a nicer
regard to their development than was applied in the case of the
ungodly. The thought of the Father of men feeling a certain
satisfaction in their assembling together to roar out in concert
somewhat extravagantly phrased ascriptions of honour and majesty seems
to me purely childish.

My own belief is that services should in the first place be as short as
possible; that there should be variety and interest, plenty of movement
and plenty of singing, and that every service should be employed to
meet and satisfy the restless minds and bodies of children. But though
all should be simple, it should not, I think, be of a plain and obvious
type entirely. There are many delicate mysteries, of hope and faith, of
affliction and regret, of suffering and sorrow, of which many boys are
dimly conscious. There are many subtle and seemly qualities which lie a
little apart from the track of manly, full-fed, game-playing boyhood;
and such emotions should be cultivated and given voice in o