"And to escape these dangers, more possible than likely, you flee to
those dead formularies you call your liturgy," retorted Moodie.

"To the formalist and the negligent," L'Isle replied, "the liturgy is
but a form; but to the earnest churchman it is a thing of life. Using
it, the Christian congregation, priest and layman, pastor and flock,
join in an united confession of their sins, in the profession of their
common faith, in prayer for mercies needed, in thanksgiving for
blessings bestowed. God's praise is sung, his pardon to repentant
sinners authoritatively pronounced, the sacraments ordained by Christ
are reverently administered, and the whole body of revealed truth and
sacred history systematically recited to the people in the course of
each year--a most profitable teaching to the young and ignorant, who
cannot search the Scriptures for themselves. This is a true Christian
public worship, complete in itself. Nor do we neglect preaching as a
means of instruction and exhortation, without holding it to be an
always essential accompaniment, much less, as you do, the right arm in
the public worship of God."

"And to this form of words, made by man," objected Moodie, "you
attribute a divine character, little, if at all, below that which
belongs to the word of God."

"So far as it consists of the language of Scripture, rightly applied,
it is divine," said L'Isle. "But it is an error to say that our
liturgy, or any other worthy to be named, was made by a man, or the
men of any one age. It has a more catholic origin than that. The
spiritual experience of devout men of many centuries of Christianity,
realizing the needs of sinful humanity in its intercourse with its