theological, or philosophical; a system of morals and a law; or, thirdly, as being characteristically neither of these, but a life; depending on a Spirit, and essentially related to a Person. The last view, which is becoming more and more felt to be the only one which will at all explain the phenomena exhibited in history, in its true sense includes the other two; inasmuch as life, however spiritual in its nature, must have a morality, and can, at least to some extent, be explained and represented abstractly or scientifically. According to either of the two former views, but especially according to the first, the required powers of the preacher would be predominantly the scientific and logical, for he will have to treat of things considered abstractly; according to the last view they appear rather to be the poetical, for he will have to treat of things concretely, and to represent a life. If it be asked, by whom life has been most vividly pourtrayed in words, it must be at once answered, by poets; and if we were here at liberty to speak without reserve of the prophetical gift, we must be at once reminded that all our knowledge of it has been in union with the poetical-the same word frequently expressing both, as in the Greek language; so that St. Paul (Tit. i. 12) writes of the poet Epimenides as "one of their own,"-that is, of the Cretan "prophets;" and how much poetry has the world seen before or since which does not appear feeble beside the words of David or Isaiah and the other Hebrew prophets, or of the Apocalypse of St. John? How largely the same element is to be found in the teaching of our Lord himself must surely have been forgotten, when his living and life-giving words were regarded and treated as exact formal definitions. We seem, in short, brought to the conclusion, that to the higher kinds of preaching the poetical element has much to contribute; and that without it (if even with it in these days) we are not to look for prophecy. If the spiritual power of so piercing the present in the very essence of its life as to be able, in some measure, to read in it also the future, which we may believe to be implicitly contained there, in its principles at least if not in its details, may be in some sense called prophetical, possibly we are not yet out of all reach of such foreseeings. Should this, however, be deemed a "devout imagination,' "there will still remain to the preacher who is poetically gifted, an in

sight into the realities of the things around him, which are hidden from other eyes by a veil of traditions and conventionalities. If he combine with a high measure of this insight a moral energy so intense that it cannot but express itself in great actions, he is likely to be one of the rare benefactors of mankind, who appear now and then to be wondered at, stoned to death, and abandoned to dishonour, until another generation shall build their sepulchres.

We have insisted upon the possession of gifts essentially poetical, as being of the highest importance to the preacher; but we must not omit to record wherein the poet, as an artist, fundamentally differs from the preacher. It will be to our readers quite a familiar and established rule of criticism, that the very nature of a proper work of art excludes any definite moral aim; while a definite and predominant moral aim would seem essential to the preacher. The artist's mind is absorbed in his own idea, and must be undisturbed by looking outwards; the preacher's is ever going out towards others to bring them into subjection to himself. One cannot, then, be at the same time the artist and the preacher; but there seems no reason why an artist should not also be a preacher, although the sermon will not be a work of art. If the author of the "Paradise Lost" could also write the "Christian Doctrine," and unequalled political tracts, and if our general principle be true, that the poet is capable of effective social action, why should he not also be able to preach effectively? We see no reason to the contrary, unless in those rare cases where the active moral energy is so vast and constant, as not to leave to the mind the repose essential to the composition of a work of art, or perhaps even to the cultivation of the poetical faculty.

With reference to the distinction between the prophet and the poet, Mr. Carlyle observes: "The vates prophet, we might say, has seized that sacred mystery (the 'open secret,') rather on the moral side, as good and evil, duty and prohibition; the vates poet on what the Germans call the aesthetic side, as beautiful, and the like. The one we may call a revealer of what we are to do, the other of what we are to love. But, indeed, these two provinces run into one another, and cannot be disjoined. The prophet too has his eye on what we are to love: how else shall we know what

we are to do? The highest voice ever heard on this earth said withal, 'Consider the lilies of the field; they toil not, neither do they spin: yet Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.' A glance, that, into the deepest deep of beauty. The lilies of the field,' -dressed finer than earthly princes, springing up there in the humble furrowfield; a beautiful eye looking out on you, from the great inner sea of beauty! How could the rude earth make these, if her essence, rugged as she looks and is, were not inwardly beauty? In this point of view, too, a saying of Goethe's, which has staggered several, may have a meaning, 'The beautiful,' he intimates, 'is higher than the good; the beautiful includes in it the good.' The true beautiful, which, however, I have said somewhere, 'differs from the false, as Heaven does from Vauxhall!' So much for the distinction and identity of poet and prophet.”—Heroes and Hero Worship, pp. 127, 128.

In asserting the connection between poetry and preaching, it never can have been supposed our purpose to include that gift among the necessary qualifications of one whose function admits of forms of fulfilment so indefinitely varied as does the preacher's. Assuming that, for the most part, the preacher can only be a herald, proclaiming a message of infinite grace; or a teacher, distributing to others the fruits of his own observation, study, reflection; or a witness, testifying of the elevating or renewing power of the Truth; and will in vain attempt to be a prophet, authoritatively interpreting the present, or announcing the future; still, even for the most unpoetical of men there may be found here a sphere of labour with abundant profit. He may discourse of Christian Ethics, Dogmatical Theology, Biblical History and Criticism, or of whatever else he may happen to have more knowledge of than his hearers; or doing none of all these particularly, he may somehow or other let the spirit that is in him express itself, and confirm faith by sympathy.

We

It may be necessary here to say a few words on the relation of the preacher to the actor, inquiring how far histrionic art is admissible into the pulpit. understand by the actor one who has so great an intellectual susceptibility of being impressed by the embodied thoughts of the poet, combined with unusual powers of speech and gesture, as to be able, more or less adequately, to repre

VOL. VIII.

sent in action what the poet has expressed in words. The actor is thus the exponent, not of his own, but of another's mind, to which he has for the time lent his rare gifts of utterance; and, according to the highest view of the preacher's office, there is thus a distinct contrast between the two. The preacher says, "Because I believe, therefore have I spoken;" the actor says, "I have spoken because I have conceived."

At the same time, it will appear, we think, to the calm and thoughtful observer, that a great part of our actual preaching partakes largely of the histrionic character. The preacher, having for the time become saturated with the thoughts and words of some portion of Holy Writ, in which either an actual historical or an ideal character is pourtrayed, under the influence of such temporary possession utters his feelings with all the energy, although not always with the cultivated taste of the actor. It may perhaps be said, too, that the more the preacher is under the immediate influence of the Book, the more fully will this effect be produced; while, on the other hand, the more he has digested and incorporated into his own spiritual being its nutritious contents, the less will his discourse resemble the actor's. What has been said may suggest an explanation of a phenomenon which has sometimes perplexed us, and possibly also some of our readers; according to which we may have heard sermon after sermon, on all manner of subjects, by some preacher of much intellectual and physical vigour, each of the sermons apparently produced under a strong influence, very like that of specific belief, and yet the result of the whole has been to leave us in extreme uncertainty as to the actual personal convictions of the preacher on almost any one of the topics of his discourses. It may be thought superfluous to remark, that in so far as any preacher's power depends on this imitative art, a comparison of his sermons with his life is altogether out of the question.

CONGREGATIONALISM ON THE CON

TINENT.

MOST literary men are familiar with the name and genius of Mr. Ruskin, and have read his "Seven Lamps of Architecture,' "and his "Stones of Venice," with interest and with admiration. They will, therefore, be prepared to hear this eminent, though somewhat eccentric man, when

2 F

he speaks a word on behalf of the suffering Protestant Churches of the Continent, somewhat numerous, but small, poor, and greatly afflicted. The subject is one of moment in itself, and deserves the solemn attention of all the religious. The fact of thirty-five years' peace is one which ought to be well weighed, because of the responsibility which it involves; the amount of intercourse between England and the Continent is very great, and doubtless might have been turned to excellent account in furtherance of the Gospel abroad, had men been disposed to make that a business, or even a chief part of their Continental peregrinations. It is, however, much to be regretted, that the number is very small of those who have acquitted themselves properly in the matter. There has, indeed, been a minority who have done nobly, and with the happiest effects on the minds of the scattered few who much require encouragement and succour. It is to be deplored, that the principle of "doing all to the glory of God," has not been more carried out by travellers; they would seem to have gone at least the bulk of them-wholly and exclusively for their own sake, not for the good of men, or the promotion of the Divine glory. Pleasure name ill understood!-has been the object of pursuit, and while all have sought, but few have found it, and none, except those who left somebody happier for their visit. Had most of them never gone thither, or never been born, the small suffering churches of the Continent would have had no reason for lamentation. We might cite some splendid examples of an opposite character, and may instance that of the late amiable Robert Haldane, Esq., who spending the winter in Geneva, laid himself out to diffuse the Gospel, and with such success, that it led to the conversion of some of the most important ministers now labouring on the Continent, and a revival of religion which is going on with increase at the present hour. But we must now introduce Mr. Ruskin, and suffer him, in his own characteristic manner, to make his important statement:

ENGLISH TRAVELLERS AND FOREIGN
CHURCHES.

There has now been peace between England and the Continental powers about thirty-five years, and during that period the English have visited the continent at the rate of many thousands a year, staying there, I suppose, on the average, each two or three months; nor these an inferior kind of English, but the kind which ought to be the best-the noblest born, the best

taught, the richest in time and money, having more leisure, knowledge, and power than any other portion of the nation. These, we might suppose, beholding, as they travelled, the condition of the states in which the Papal religion is professed, and being, at the same time, the most enlightened section of a great Protestant nation, would have been animated with some desire to dissipate the Romanist errors, and to communicate to others the better knowledge which they possessed themselves. I doubt not but that He who gave peace upon the earth, and gave it by the hand of England, expected this much of her, and has watched every one of the millions of her travellers as they crossed the sea, and kept count for him of his travelling expenses, and of their distribution, in a manner of which neither the traveller nor his courier were at all informed. I doubt not, I say, but that such accounts have been literally kept for all of us, and that a day will come when they will be made clearly legible to us, and when we shall see added together, on one side of the account-book, a great sum, the certain portion, whatever it may be, of this thirty-five years' spendings of the rich English, accounted for in this manner;

To wooden spoons, nutcrackers, and jewellery, bought at Geneva, and elsewhere among the Alps, so much; to shell cameos and bits of mosaic bought at Rome, so much; to coral horns and lava brooches bought at Naples, so much; to glass beads at Venice, and gold filigree at Genoa, so much; to pictures and statues and ornaments everywhere, so much; to avant-couriers and extra post-horses, for show and magnificence, so much; to great entertainments and good places for seeing sights, so much; to balldresses and general vanities, so much. This, I Bay, will be the sum on one side of the book; and on the other will be written,

To the struggling Protestant Churches of France, Switzerland, and Piedmont, so much. Had we not better do this piece of statistics for ourselves, in time?

Thanks to Mr. Ruskin for his seasonable and judicious admonition. Let us hope it will not be lost.

MINISTERS' LIBRARIES.

AMONGST other important topics discussed in the WITNESS, is the subject of Ministers' Libraries. Many and good things have been said; but little, so far as I am aware, has, at present, been done. "A Friend to Ministers," vol. iv., p. 385, remarks, that "Surely in the poorest congregation there might be found twenty persons who would give one shilling each, and forty who would give sixpence each, thus making £2, and they would cheerfully renew this offering every New Year's-day, if it were asked of them." Yea, more, he "believes that twice that eum, and even £5, might be raised every year," for this purpose. Two pounds may, indeed, appear to your correspondent a very trifling sum for so praiseworthy

an object; but it is my conviction that there are very few village congregations (and these it may be presumed are amongst the poorest) who have it in their power to do any such thing.

I happen to know a minister whose congregation is of the class referred to by your correspondent, and who raise towards the support of himself and family the sum of £30 a year, other £20, or less, being made up from County Unions and Associations. The house in which he resides has a debt upon it, and the chapel in which he preaches is in the same unpleasant position. However willing such a people might be to help their Minister, something may be said respecting their ability to place such works upon his shelves as he would delight to see there, and to regard as his own.

Some time since, I visited a village in the county of S- and spent some time in the company of the Minister resident there. Upon looking over his collection of books, I noticed a number of volumes of the old divines, which had the appearance of having obtained their settlement. Upon inquiry, I found that they had been given, not to the Minister, but to the church and congregation, for the use of the Minister for the time being. This appeared to me to be a good plan for effecting a permanent good. Such things have been heard of as poor Ministers being compelled to part with their already too scanty library to procure the common necessaries of life for themselves and families; or they are removed from their sphere of labour by the hand of death, when their books are sold, or distributed amongst friends, in both which cases these works are lost to the church over which he has presided.

Now I should like to ask certain members of the Christian Church, who are blessed with means, whether they could not serve the cause of religion, and promote the comfort of good men, by making over to poor congregations, in secluded districts, suitable works for the use of the Minister, so long as he shall continue amongst them as their Minister. I am not ashamed to say that they would be acceptable in the village in which I am located, and I have no doubt they would be equally so in other places. Let the benevolent seek for the most deserving cases, and let the works bear an inscription of a nature that shall attach them to the district for which they may be intended.

If you consider these hints as deserving

attention, or calculated to promote the interests of men than whom there are few who stand in greater need of encouragement, they are at your service. I remain, Yours respectfully,

"A LOVER OF GOOD MEN."

June, 1851.

[** The idea, which is by no means new, and for that all the better as increasing the probability of its soundness and importance, is one way by which much might doubtless be done. The great want, however, is not so much books, as bread. We feel a deep aversion to everything that has upon it the stamp of pauperism, in relation to Ministers of the Gospel. We respect the office, and love the men, and, therefore, we ask for them justice, rather than bounty; -bounty, if you please, after justice has been satisfied, but not before. Let the workman have his hire in fair and ample measure, and leave him to choose and purchase his own tools. Were every auditor to pay for his personal instruction as much as he pays the village dame for the tuition of an infant, that would do! Nothing more is needed to set everything right but conscience and system.- ED.]

"MYSTERIES" NOT INCREDIBLE.

A NATIVE of Burmah or Japan writing an account of England in the present day, might tell his countrymen that there are cities in this land, hundreds of miles apart, between which conversation can be kept up as easily as two friends can converse across a room. He might say that the operators in the process are as probably standing back to back as in any other position -that each is perfectly silent-that no sound at all is generated, and yet that each understands the other. He might say that their thoughts traverse the intervening space more quickly than the earth revolves upon its axis; so that if the one be standing eastward, it is morning with him before it has ceased to be night with the person receiving intelligence to the westward. The traveller might go on to tell that all that could be seen connecting the places where these widely separated persons had stationed themselves, was a wire, which neither of them touched, which did not move backward or forward in the process, which underwent no perceptible change in weight, in temperature, or in length, and which remained absolutely still, except as in its protracted course, borne at a little distance from the ground, it was the sport of the passing wind. All this, however wonderful it might seem to the persons receiving the account, yea, however incredible some might deem it, would be strictly true. If the readers of such a statement called it mysterious and unintelligible, what would they mean? They would not intend to say that they did not understand the terms employed,-for in that case they would not be in a position to affirm anything, one way or the other, about the phenomenon itself; all they could mean would be that they knew not how the fact communicated

to them might be accounted for. And it may be doubted whether their informant would labour to much purpose if he attempted an explanation. He might, indeed, go on to tell them a little about the galvanic fluid-a something invisible, impalpable, imponderable, and swift as lightning, generated by the action of certain metals immersed in a diluted acid; but how generated? Could he tell, or could the ablest of his readers guess? Perhaps it might be some consolation to them to know that the very persons who made this ethereal thing their drudge-made it tell of invoices and funds, or even exchanged, in an idle hour, their jests by means of it, knew in general as little of its nature as the birds that lighted upon the bare and open wire. Yet, withal, it might be added that this was no uncertain thing, for it had been employed to tell a prisoner that his respite was over, and that the law to which he had forfeited his life must take its course.

Now, might not the readers of such an account, crediting the sufficiency of the witness, say, that the facts plainly described they understood and believed; might they not allow that minds did hold this wondrous converse, and that knowledge did thus pass across geographical degrees, while they felt that all attempts at explanation left them as much at a loss to account for the phenomenon as so many babes? So plain, even to the most ordinary capacity, is the distinction between believing in a FACT of any nature, and arriving at the philosophy of its cause.

The same attention will show the distinction between believing in the existence of a BEING of any kind, and believing that such being exists in this or that particular manner; and, further, between believing that certain specified elements or substances go to form that being, and believing that these elements are compounded, or blended together, in some one particular mode, or certain ascertainable proportions.

For example: it might be proclaimed to the inhabitants of some other world that there existed on this planet a being called man, having "dominion" over a variety of other creatures, some of whom inhabited an element in which he could not live, and others had the power of soaring far out of his reach, and even sight, while the majority of those whose services he commanded possessed tenfold greater strength than himself. It might be further revealed respecting this creature, that he alone of all beings here was capable of knowing and serving God, and that for ever. This might be told, and yet not a syllable might be communicated as to the elements, or substances, which went to constitute this peculiar Being. The inhabitants of that world might then believe what was told them, though they remained in ignorance of the rest. Or we may suppose somewhat more than this to be communicated. The record might in some of its parts speak of man as a spiritual being, "made a little lower than the angels." It might say that he was animated by a soul:

"Jehovah's breath,

That kept two worlds at strife."

Yea, in a sense, it might say that he was a soul, that this was "himself," and that, like an ethereal being, time and space seemed not to be made for him; that he dwelt as often in the past or the future as the present, and fixed his thoughts at pleasure within or beyond the

stars. The same record, in others of its parts, might speak of this creature-who might have been conjectured to be all spirit—as merely animal, "of the earth, earthy;" in appetites, in weakness, in mortality, like the beasts that perish. Now the inhabitants of that distant world might say, "We believe that yonder there is a being most strangely and mysteriously com. pounded; that he is spirit the record plainly intimates; that in some respects, and in some important respects, he is flesh and not spirit' is just as certain and intelligible. The record does not, however, explain in what way these diverse elements meet and mingle in him. It does not teach us how they act and re-act upon each other; and what it does not teach, we are not called upon even to try to understand. The fact is revealed very intelligibly, and it forms therefore a part of our creed; the explanation is NOT revealed; and therefore of that creed it forms no part at all."

Now it happens that, throughout the Bible, facts are given, and explanations are withheld. Whether the sea is divided, or the sun stands still; whether the shadow goes back upon the dial, or the mouths of lions are stopped; whether, at a word spoken, the winds are calm, or a leper is made whole: the simple fact is stated, and the only explanation vouchsafed to us may be inferred from the question, "Is there anything too hard for the Lord ?"

And just as we believe that man is “spirit," and at the same time that he is "matter,”—a complex being, whose own nature is to himself as great a mystery as any which the universe contains; so it is the province of reason to admit, upon sufficient evidence, that Jesus Christ was both God and man; that he was endowed with some properties strictly divine, and with others as strictly human; though the Scriptures have not explained how this was, and though, in all likelihood, an angel could not have understood it if it had. In like manner, when we meet with the doctrine of the Trinity (which must be assumed in this discussion), all that reason has to do is to investigate its evidences, and to provide against such an admission of the doctrine as would involve a contradiction; it being plain that though God may be three and one, he cannot be three and one in the same sense. A theory of the Divine existence not being offered in Scripture, the modus (as theologians have termed it) of the Divine nature not being the subject of explanation, it forms no part of the Christian faith. There cannot be plainer propositions than these, -that there is one God; that the Father is God, that the Son is God, that the Holy Ghost is God. It follows, if these affirmations be supported by Scripture, as we believe they are, that, in some unexplained manner, the one ever-living Jehovah is the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. These naked propositions are perfectly intelligible, and as such they enter into our creed; but as to this or that manner of explaining the ineffable nature to which they relate, as to this or that way of defining how that Trinity subsists, the Scripture is silent; and what God has not revealed forms no part of the Christian's belief. We are to "contend earnestly" not for what has been kept back, but for what has been "delivered to the saints." The SECRET things belong unto the Lord our God.— Rev. S. M'All's Monthly Lectures.