There seems to be a natural inclination toward the fictitious in mankind. There is a fascination about the unreal and a glitter reflected by the imitative that in some mysterious way holds the mind and attracts the eye of the average human being. It is unaccountable excepting that the natural man is averse to the truth; and because he does not love truth, the “father of lies” is permitted for the time being to feed him with falsehood. The stage, the novel, “society,” and to an increasing extent the newspaper, are popular channels through which the demand is supplied. The church social and the “drawing” sermon, the milliner, the dressmaker, and the tailor are potent factors in furnishing the fictitious for the entertainment of the popular church. But there is a growing disposition to utilize the stage in the portrayal of religion; and inasmuch as religion is becoming more and more formal and unreal, the idea is logical. Harper’s Weekly of recent date says:— Rev. Forbes Phillips, vicar of Gorleston, England, submits a new scheme for the union of the church and the stage. Clergymen, he says, overdo the religious side of life, and action must be taken in arrest of such a mistake. So he proposes the establishment in each parish of a sort of Oberammergau society, with a revival of the mystery plays of the Middle Ages. Allowing that the Rev. Mr. Phillips will get his plan into operation, it is safe enough to predict that, however the clergyman may err, the parishioners will never fall into the mistake of overdoing the religious side of their lives. As a provocative of the vices of hatred, envy, and all uncharitableness, the amateur stage has long been acknowledged without a superior, and its presence in every parish would establish a fine recruiting ground for the adversary of all souls. Those in the play would be consumed with jealousy or vanity, while those in the audience would be given over to a bored contempt—neither emotion being friendly to pure and undefiled religion. Seriously, why can not clergymen have sufficient faith in their work to let it bear its own burdens and accomplish its own way? Why should they try to make the church a big department store, with bargains on every counter every day in the week? Men who succeed in other avocations are men who believe that their work is worth something in itself, and who are not inclined to cheapen it by incongruous attachments. Of all men, the preacher, claiming to deal with the eternal verities, ought least to need the help of gimcrackery. There is no more occasion to prop the church with a theater than to fortify it with a dental parlor or a bootblacking emporium. Church and stage keeping house together is neither necessary nor desirable.