Is i

[S it because of the beauty of the church, the beauty of the service, the associations connected with the place, or is it merely because it is the fashion, that people are induced to go up to the Beautiful Gate of the Temple on Sundays to pray? Beautiful Gate! Ay, beautiful indeed since the brick and mortar screens that erewhile hid it were removed, and disclosed not only the Beautiful Gate but the little chapel of St. Anne and the venerable walls of the Temple Church itself. Time was when utilitarianism ruled supreme over art within the Temple precincts-when church, and college, and garden suffered alike because 'there was no use' in developing beauties, natural or artificial-when groined roofs with costly paintings on them were painted stone colour to save the expense of redecorating them-when loveliest pillars of serpentine marble were whitewashed to save the expense of polishingand when the tombs of those whose

Souls are with the saints, we trust,'

were left to moulder and decay-in some cases even their ruins perishing-because no one was found to declare the use they would be if pre

served.

Nous avons changé tout cela. The spirit of art, and of appreciation for the beauties of it, has succeeded the spirit of Vandalism, and among other improvements effected by the change has been the restoration of the church, with its beautiful gate, and the demolition of the buildings

which concealed the view of them.

It can scarcely be fashion only that induces people to go, for the practice has endured much longer than fashions last. For years the Temple has been filled on Sundays with an admiring congregation, even in the days before the

⚫ Singing boys, dear little souls, With nice clean faces and nice white stoles,'

and the voices of the choristers, whose business it is to worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness,' pre

sented an attraction that of itself would draw a multitude. No; it is not fashion, neither is it solely the beauty of the service-plain cathedral service it is, such as our fathers have told us of, steering a middle course between that of the extreme church parties on either hand, inviting all men to come, and forbidding none of them, either by word or deed. The only stumbling-block -it can hardly be called a rock of offence-which the conductors of it oppose to the public is in the shape of a regulation that none may be admitted to the inner sanctum, or the church proper, before the beginning of the psalms for the day, unless they be provided with the order of a bencher (one of the executive council of the Temple) or the personal escort of a member. This regulation-the effect of which we shall have occasion to notice presently is designed to prevent the crowding out by the general public of those for whom the church is specially intended, the members of the Inn and their friends. At the first word of the psalms, however, the restraint on admission is thrown aside, and whoso can may

get a seat, Jews or proselytes, Cretes or Arabians, it does not matter a rush, all for whom there are vacant seats are admitted.

The beauty of the Temple cannot fail to attract. Those who have seen it tell those who have not, and so a perpetual stream of visitors is

kept up. He who would know it

should see it, should stand outside the porch-railings when the door is open and look upon the interior in its most elegant perspective aspect, its rich, ungorgeous nave, its chastely splendid aisles, its magnificent east window. He should stay on the threshold and see the ancient round chapel, its arcades, its perfect windows, its beautiful glass, and the treasures committed to its special charge, the tombs of the knights. A flood of recollections will come across his mind as he stands beside