ters of those committed to their care, should warn the careless, should reprove the gainsayers, should build up the weak, should direct the inexperienced,—in short, that they should duly exercise the pastoral care,—would be extravagant. The people accordingly do not, and cannot, regard them as their appointed pastors. They feel themselves to be as sheep without a shepherd, and have generally no other notion of the very nature of a parish, than that it is a district relieving its own poor.
This state of things is obviously inconsistent with the rules of the Church, and with our professions as her members. But it may be asked in default of the parochial system, what other provisions have been made for the spiritual welfare of the people? These have been, until very recently, only the erection of proprietary chapels, and the labours of pious individuals and societies. That a considerable amount of good has resulted from these means is unquestionable; without them our state would have been worse than it is; but they are palliatives not remedies of a disease, which, if not radically cured, must in the end be fatal. If we suffer ourselves to account them an effectual cure, we do but deceive ourselves to our ruin, and change them from a good into an evil. They can but be palliatives, because, from the necessity of the case, they have been directed by an imperfect principle. Chapels have been erected, indeed,
