"Hard times, gentlemen, hard times these are indeed with the Church,"
he informs the promoters of this ecclesiastical benefit, "to send her
to the playhouse to gather pew-money. For shame, gentlemen! go to the
Church and pay your money there, and never let the playhouse have
such a claim to its establishment as to say the Church is beholden to
her.... Can our Church be in danger? How is it possible? The whole
nation is solicitous and at work for her safety and prosperity. The
Parliament address, the Queen consults, the Ministry execute, the
Armies fight, and all for the Church; but at home we have other heroes
that act for the Church. Peggy Hughes sings, Monsieur Ramandon plays,
Miss Santlow dances, Monsieur Cherier teaches, and all for the Church.
Here's heavenly doings! here's harmony!"

"In short," concludes the author of "Robinson Crusoe," "the
observations on this most preposterous piece of Church work are so
many, they cannot come into the compass of this paper; but if the
money raised here be employed to re-edify this chapel, I would have
it, as is very frequent, in like cases, written over the door in
capital letters: 'This church was re-edified anno 1706, at the expense
and by the charitable contribution of the enemies of the reformation
of our morals, and to the eternal scandal and most just reproach of
the Church of England and the Protestant religion. Witness our hands,

"LUCIFER, Prince of Darkness,|
and | _Churchwardens_."[A]
HAMLET, Prince of Denmark, |

[Footnote A: _Review_, June 20, 1706.]