ent, on doctrinal preaching. We do not mean necessarily metaphysical or dogmatical preaching; nor preaching modelled after any particular school or mode of theologizing; but a method of sermonizing which unfolds distinctly and boldly the character of the triune Jehovah; his purposes, providence, and law; our lost condition; and the scheme of redemption; its terms and application, just as they are revealed in his word, without dilution or equivocation; so that the exact truth, and nothing but the truth, shall shine in upon the hearts of his hearers, awakening its appropriate affections. For worship "in the beauty of holiness," as we have seen, is giving due glory to God; and to give due glory to God, we must have right apprehensions of his character; acknowledge him to be the incomprehensible and glorious being he is, and that his government and prerogatives are such as they are; we must acknowledge ourselves to be precisely the beings we are, free, moral, accountable, but corrupt and dependent, and then exercise all those feelings of humility, self-abasement, reverence, submission, adoration, self-annihilation before the All-in-all. In short, true worship is correct knowledge of God and ourselves, and the correspondent emotions.

But from these two sources, the character of God and the character of man, flow all the doctrines of Scripture; for with a correct knowledge of God and ourselves, correct knowledge of all other fundamental scriptural truth is logically associated. Or, rather, one of these, the knowledge of God, is the great source of all true knowledge of divine things. For if we have right apprehensions of the being and character of God, we shall have right views of ourselves, as beings originally created in his image. By knowledge of him as our creator and moral goverror, we shall have a knowledge of ourselves as subjects of his moral empire; and hence, a knowledge of our moral and responsible agency and our fallen condition we shall learn by contrasting our hearts and lives with his holiness. And if we have a true knowledge of God, we shall have not only a true conception of ourselves, but of his government, of his providence, of his purposes, of his law, and of our duties, of the scheme of grace, and of the conditions and precepts of the

Gospel. For all these must be consistent with the divine character, or such as that character demands.

But these same truths, as we have seen, are requisite to the inspiring of those holy meditations essential to the performance of holy worship; and there can be no true worship without adequate knowledge of them. A vital connection, therefore, subsists between worshipping God "in the beauty of holiness," and a correct knowledge of scriptural doctrines. Be it realized that not all feeling, not all high or ecstatic feeling, even in relation to divine things, constitutes true devotion; but those feelings which divine things ought to inspire in a rational mind. It is brokenness of heart, reverential, enraptured thoughts, in view of the whole character of God; of his entire providential proceedings and preceptive government; of our own hearts and characters; of Christ's forgiving love, and method of justification. In contemplating these august themes, our emotions can not be too strong; there is no danger of enthusiasm here. The stronger and deeper our emotions, the more like heaven will be our adoration; and with these kindling affections we may well pour forth our praise :

"Our harps all trembling in our hands,
And all inspired our tongues."

This high, devotional spirit it should always be the design of the herald of salvation to inspire; otherwise he will fail to adorn his vocation as a leader of the great congregation in divine worship; nor will his preaching tend to ripen his hearers for the eternal state of praise. He must bear in mind that it is not every kind of feeling, excited even by aspects of Bible truth, which it is his office to awaken. He may raise the admiration of his hearers to the highest pitch; he may charm them with creations of beauty; he may even whelm them in tears, without taking the first step towards discharging the duties of his vocation. Such exhibitions of truth, inwrought by unhallowed emotion and a feverish fancy, may draw attention to himself, and lead his hearers to exclaim: "What a beautiful sermon!" But let him remember that devotional feeling seldom prompts to such expressions; and when heard, he may be almost sure that his preaching is not producing its desired results. He who is wrapt in devotional thoughts loses sight of man; is blind

to taste and art; and is absorbed in transporting views of God. There is a specific class of sentiments and emotions, therefore, which it is the duty of the preacher to awaken. His simple object should be to throw his hearers into a state of thought and emotion, which may be appropriately denominated evangelical; a state in which God in Christ fills the soul, melting, subduing, transporting it with admiring conceptions of his glory. It is to train them for unending worship in the presence of God and the Lamb; and, consequently, to promote an elevated state of spirituality and devotion similar to that above. But we believe it may be laid down as a universal truth, that the abiding spirituality of a church, its uniform tone of devotion, will be much in proportion to the distinctness with which the perfections and character of the triune Jehovah, his providence and precepts, his scheme of redemption through an infinite Redeemer, and its application by the Spirit of truth, all of which transcendantly show forth the divine glory, are inculcated from the pulpit. The responsibility of him who occupies it, therefore, is solemn beyond expression; and the consequences of a faithful or unfaithful performance of its duties, the endless songs of heaven or the wailings of hell can alone express.

We have dwelt longer on this branch of our subject than we should, had we not been apprehensive that its vital importance is not adequately felt. We must be allowed to say that the predominant aim of preaching, in many instances, we fear, is to show learning and the power of intellect, rather than to give instruction; to argue, to draw ingenious analogies, to startle with novelties, or thrill with creations of imagination; to captivate a fine taste, or to interest the natural passions and sympathies, than to lead the mind into trains of devotional meditation. Said once a somewhat popular clergyman to us: "When I have interested a congregation I have done them all the good I can"; and the influence of his sermons testified to the truth of this remark. Devotional feelings were, to say the least, among the last that were awakened by them. Worldly men were interested, but not converted; they were not made to feel that they must repent or perish. When the writer entered the ministry, wishing advice in regard to the purchase of a select library, he requested the then president of one of our theolog

ical seminaries, to name a few volumes of special importance. "For assistance in preparing sermons," he replied, “you will find Doddridge's and John Newton's works valuable; your people need something devotional"; repeating the last clause emphatically: "something devotional." Never was man more surprised. We had expected some deeply learned German authors, or some profound philological or philosophical works would be recommended; and when these simple works, which every body reads, and children can understand, were named, we confess with regret we thought the advice too unimportant to follow. But experience has convinced us that it was sound and scriptural; and every year in the ministry confirms the opinion. The ultimate end of the pulpit is not intellectual impression, but devotional fervor. It is to elevate the audience, as it were, into the presence of the great God, that they may behold his glory; to produce conviction of guilt and self-renunciation, and thereby bring them around the cross filled with delighted praise. We would that this thought might attract the prayerful consideration of those who are called to the high trust of leading the assemblies of God's people in holy worship. We are confident it would change the tone of much now called pulpit eloquence, pass the "condemnatory sentence" on many a sermon now heard by the young and worldly with admiration, and render the ministrations of the sanctuary far more effective in fitting men for the worship of heaven.

ARTICLE VI.

PARISH FINANCES.

THERE are two facts patent to every thoughtful observer of our present religious condition. One is that the pecuniary support of the ministry is so inadequate that many ministers find it utterly impossible to give their families the comforts of life from their salaries, and are compelled to leave their fields, or live in pinching poverty, and under a keen sense of injustice. The incubus of care rests upon them by day and by night.

They are forced into a condition which has a consciousness of self-degradation in it. Their growth is hindered, and their families are denied the means of education, and often stung into an intense disgust for the ministry, and the church that allows such wrong. The loss of power to the ministry from an inadequate support, can be known only when the evil shall be generously removed, or the day of judgment shall make its revelation of the history of the race. The other is that in many of our churches the sittings are so expensive that large classes of the people are practically excluded. These two facts, with their dire and far reaching consequences, make the subject, put at the head of this paper, one of vital interest.

In the early history of New England the expenses of public worship were paid by the towns in which the worship was held. It was believed then, that religious worship was for the profit of all, and that its burdens should be borne by all, according to their ability. In the progress of dissent and democracy the laws were changed, and for a generation, these expenses were borne by men voluntarily belonging to parish corporations, by a tax on their property.

The prevalent mode of meeting parish expenses is by pew rentals. This is a very convenient, and often a very successful mode of raising necessary funds. Is it the best? If the great ends of religious institutions were material, we might more easily answer this question. If a full treasury and a large and popular congregation are the ultimate results sought, there might, perhaps, in many cases, be little doubt. But we suppose all our readers believe that the great end is spiritual. There are various lesser benefits, intellectual, civilizing, social and esthetic influences, that make our religious institutions above all price, but the end is the salvation of human souls. All other results are only as the verdure and blossoms that minister to fruit, as the spray that floats in rainbow beauties over the torrent. We suppose that none of our readers doubt that God's great instrumentality in the salvation of men is the preaching of the Gospel in connection with Christian worship. "It hath pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe." All religious organizations and policies, then, must be tried by this test. Are they bringing the vital truths of the Gospel to