and manners of the country, or so powerful in its influence on national character.’  These words are still partly true, though it is not possible to make the assertion with so much confidence as when Doellinger wrote.  The English Church represents, on the religious side, the convictions, tastes, and prejudices of the English gentleman, that truly national ideal of character, which has long since lost its adventitious connexion with heraldry and property in land.  A love of order, seemliness, and good taste has led the Anglican Church along a middle path between what a seventeenth-century divine called ’the meretricious gaudiness of the Church of Rome and the squalid sluttery of fanatic conventicles.’  A keen sense of honour and respect for personal uprightness, a hatred of cruelty and treachery, created and long maintained in the English Church an intense repugnance against the priestcraft of the Roman hierarchy, feelings which have only died down because the bitter memories of the sixteenth century have at last become dim.  A jealous love of liberty, combined with contempt for theories of equality, produced a system of graduated ranks in Church government which left a large measure of freedom, both in speech and thought, even to the clergy, and encouraged no respect for what Catholics mean by authority.  The Anglican Church is also characteristically English in its dislike for logic and intellectual consistency and in its distrust of undisciplined emotionalism, which in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries was known and dreaded under the name of ‘enthusiasm.’  This type is not essentially aristocratic.  It does not traverse the higher ideals of the working class, which respects and admires the qualities of the ‘gentleman,’ though it resents the privileges long connected with the name.  But it has no attraction for what may be impolitely called the vulgar class, whose religious feelings find a natural vent in an unctuous emotionalism and sentimental humanitarianism.  This class, which forms the backbone of Dissent and Liberalism, is instinctively antipathetic to Anglicanism.  Nor does the Anglican type of Christianity appeal at all to the ‘Celtic fringe,’ whose temperament is curiously opposite to that of the English, not only in religion but in most other matters.  The Irish and the Welsh are no more likely to become Anglicans than the lowland Scotch are to adopt Roman Catholicism.  Whether Dissent is a permanent necessity in England is a more difficult question, in spite of the class differences of temperament above mentioned.  If the Anglican organisation were elastic enough to permit the order of lay-readers to be developed on strongly Evangelical lines, the lower middle class might find within the Church the mental food which it now seeks in Nonconformist chapels, and might gain in breadth and dignity by belonging once more to a great historic body.