There are practices tolerated in religious congregations which Christians who are jealous for the honor of their Master’s house should utterly condemn. Decorum is the handmaid of devotional feeling, and for this reason the house of God should never be disturbed by the slightest approach to irreverence. “It is a part of my religion,” said a pious old lady, when asked why she went early to church—“it is a part of my religion not to interrupt the religion of others.” And we believe if many a country congregation made it a part of their religion not to twist their necks almost out of joint to witness the entrance of every person who passes up the aisle during service, it would be better both for their necks and their religion. A gross abuse of religious decorum sometimes needs harsh medicine as a remedy. We give that adopted by Henry Clay Dean, who was at one time Chaplain of Congress. The anecdote is from the Pacific Methodist: “Being worried one afternoon by this turning practice in his congregation, Mr. Dean stopped in his sermon, and said: “Now, you listen to me, and I’ll tell you who the people are as each one of them comes in.” He then went on with his discourse, until a gentleman entered, when he bawled out like an usher, “Deacon A——, who keeps the shop over the way,” and then went on with his sermon. Presently another man passed up the aisle, and his name, and residence, and occupation, were given. So he continued for some time. At length some one entered the door who was unknown to Mr. Dean, when he cried out, “A little old man with drab coat and an old white hat; don’t know him—look for yourselves.” That congregation was cured.