appear always before his people like a good workman, fully prepared, he soon fails under the double pressure of much preaching and study, and either sinks into an early grave, or lives under the accumulating feebleness and complaints of premature old age. The effect upon the ministry of this exorbitant love of hearing, is to enfeeble their bodies and their minds to break up habits of study and investigation-to make them exhorters instead of preachers, and mere retailers of incident and anecdote, instead of clear expounders and manful defenders of the great doctrines that cluster around

the cross.

And the effect upon the piety of the ministry is but a little less disastrous. If there is a man in the parish that needs time for reflection, and self-examination, and fervent supplication, it is the minister. He is but a man, subject to all the besetting sins of his people. The laying on of the hands of the Presbytery conferred not upon him a stock of grace to meet all his wants, without replenishing or care. He needs to use every means for growing in grace, that is needed by the most feeble of his flock. But to meet the calls made upon him by his people, he has so much to do in the way of preparation, that he has too little time to attend to himself. And hence much of the feebleness of preparation, and much of that lack of deep seriousness which appear in the pulpits of the present age. And unless we are very careful, the instructions of the pulpit will become so diluted, weak and flippant, as to lose the strong influence it has hitherto exerted in moulding the mind and character of the world.

The effect of this love of hearing upon the people, is to engross the time, some of which might be better occupiedto prevent digestion and reflection-to confine all religion to mere hearing, and to beget careless, unprepared, and inattentive waiting upon God. They run to hear without any previous preparation; they become so accustomed to hearing, that all subjects are to them alike, and before the week is half over, they remember neither the text, doctrine, or discussion. Their memory is worn so smooth, that nothing sticks to it but some odd expression, or some queer anecdote, or some low and vulgar illustration. When we con

sider attentively the operation of all these causes, is it wonderful that the religious character of this age is defective as to solidity, strength, and steadfastness?

Another of the defects of this age, is a forgetfulness of individual responsibility. A tendency to this has existed in every age of the Church. It is characteristic of our fallen nature. But it is greatly fostered by the peculiarity which marks the benevolent action of the present day. Nothing is now considered as well done unless by associated effort. If a drunkard is to be reformed, it must be effected through the American Temperance Society. If virtue and purity are to be promoted, it must be through the American Moral Reform Society. If a child is to be piously educated, it must be through the American Sunday School Union. Thus we have some great American machinery constructed for the doing of every duty, and if we only pay our assessments to keep the wheels in motion, we thereby purchase a dispensation to fold our hands in sleep. This is no caricature. It is a sober statement of things transpiring daily around us.

It is very true that concentrated action is powerful action. The collected rays of the sun will consume a body which the single rays cannot effect; but they must be brought to focus in such a way as to combine, not to destroy the heat of the individual rays. The cable of many cords will lift a weight which each separate cord cannot do; but if the cable is so formed as to destroy the strength of each cord that forms it, it will be a rope of sand. An army well drilled, and acting in concert, will do more to vanquish a foe, than the extemporaneous fighting of its separate soldiers; but the army must be so formed as to excite and combine the valour of the soldiers, and not to convert them into drones and cowards. And our primary objection to much of the combined action of this day is, not that it is combined action, but that it is, if not the cause, the occasion of removing from the hearts of Christians, the feeling of individual responsibility to live and to labour for the glory of God. And if our combined moral and religious action is even the innocent occasion of this, it demands the most serious and careful review. And we rejoice that the sifting of the principles on which our voluntary associations are founded, has commenced.

Until very recently, the ascending command of the Saviour to preach the gospel to every creature, was universally considered as binding on the Church in its collective and organized capacity. But the wonderful discovery

has been made that the Church is the worst possible organization to act itself, and to institute the agency requisite to carry this command into execution, and a few self-appointed individuals must create an irresponsible agency, and the Church must furnish the funds. The Church, as such, must have nothing to do with it; it would be dangerous to trust her with so much power. The con sequence is, if missionaries be not supplied to meet the wants of the perishing, the members of the church are not to blame -nor yet the ministers of the Church, nor yet the courts of the Church. It rests upon a voluntary association. And are the members of that association to blame? By no means. It rests upon the association; and an association, like a corporation, has no soul. And thus, virtually, this modern theory of yielding obedience to the last command of Christ, takes away responsibility from the members, and ministers, and courts of the Church, and hangs it in the air.

But it may be replied; "all this is theory-things must be judged by their results." Without stopping to inquire into the correctness of this rule, which may well be questioned, we join issue, and ask, what are the results of the action of voluntary associations? They are to be seen every where. Charity, once so meek, and modest, and retiring, as to blush in looking on its own acts, has now a forehead of brass, and cheeks of marble; and is unwilling to do any thing which is not proclaimed from the house-top. Portions of the Church, half believing that what is said of it is true, is committing her own work into irresponsible hands, and laying aside her armour. Parents, that in years past were in the habit of making their children commit and recite the catechisms, are now content with sending them to the Sabbath School. Ministers that formerly spent some weeks in each year in missionary labour, now leave all that matter to missionary associations. Church members, that used to feel the necessity from day to day of giving, and doing, and praying, now satisfy their conscience with giving. The doing is left to those who are paid for it. Thus the Church has devolved the responsibility of works which should occupy every heart and hand, and which are necessary to her extension and even to her very existence upon a body of irresponsible individuals. Some

of these societies have been, at least, the occasion of jealousies, and discord, and alienations, and controversy, and chicanery, and of the disruption of old bonds of confidence

and affection, to an extent unparalleled in the history of the American Church. They have afforded topics for ecclesiastical demagogues on which to write, and make speeches, and print books, and excite party spirit, until the great object of their original creation is now secondary to the gaining of ecclesiastical ascendancy. They were formed as auxiliaries to the Church, but they now desire to govern it. These are their results; and if not all their results, they form a part of them. And unless God in his providence interpose, the feeling of individual responsibility to live and labour for the glory of God will take its departure from the Church; and these self-constituted, self-lauded associations will fall into disrepute. And when that period arrives, we are already upon the verge of a night of deep dark

ness.

The fact in reference to these societies is, that they are rendered necessary only through the inactivity of the Church, and that they are now the occasion of perpetuating the very feeling they were designed by their founders to counteract. A large portion of them are formed for purposes which belong strictly to the pastoral office, and when the Church returns to its former views of the importance and sacredness of that office, their numerous secretaries and agents, who now threaten us with a mendicant order, may return either to the active duties of the ministry, or to the honest worldly occupations from which they have been called. Look at the Apostolic Church. There was then but one society for every purpose-the Church. And wherever its ministers and missionaries went, they preached righteousness, temperance, and moral purity. And did not the Church spread and prosper? During the Reformation there was but one society for every purpose-the Church. And did not gospel truth spread with the rapidity of the light that rises in the east and shines unto the west? Look at the early history of the Church in our own country. What but the feeling of individual responsibility, and the blessing of God upon individual enterprise, gave religion such a rapid extension in this country?

Before a voluntary association saw the light, the pilgrims and their descendants were in the habit of carrying with them their household gods wherever they wandered or settled. And what makes the difference between this age, and that of the apostles, and of the Reformation, and of the age which has preceded this? The answer is plain. Then

each Christian laboured-now but a few. Then each Christian promoted every good work-now the many give, and the few labour. Then there was a doing of the work of the Lord by detail-now it is done by wholesale. Now there must be a moving of the mass before much is undertaken by individuals; then every individual did all that he could for every cause. This feeling, which we fear is growing in the Church, is contrary to all analogy. The evening sky is illuminated, not by a cluster of stars here and there pouring down a brilliant light, but by the scattered and separate stars, each twinkling in their place. The earth is refreshed and fertilized by the little streams that murmur through the mountains, and meander over the vales; by the gently distilling rain, more than by the driving and violent shower. The earth is reclaimed from a wilderness state, not so much by the operation of large land companies, as by the industry of individuals who fence off and cultivate their own farms. We need but one sun in heaven for man and for beast, for field and for forest, for the vale and the mountain. And the Church should be to the moral, what the sun is to the natural world, enlightening, animating, invigorating, purifying all; and its members should be like the rays of the sun, pure, and shining, and penetrating; adorning, purifying, beautifying every thing which they

touch.

An effort should be made on every hand to counteract this spirit in all its tendencies. Children should be as carefully and as constantly taught in every family as if there were not a Sabbath School in existence. When the instructions of the Sabbath School are made a substitute for those of the family, the school itself is no longer an instrument of good. And we must feel as deeply on the subject of missions as if there were not such a society in existence. We should never dream of purchasing exemption from labour by our donations; nor of hiring others to do what God requires at our own hand. And as far as possible, the Church, and its responsible institutions, should be made the agents of using for the conversion of the world what its members can contribute for that sublime object. As if there were not a religious. organization in existence but the sublime and simple Church, its every member should mount the walls and build. Every individual Christian should do all he can, and at all times, for every good object. And if for no other reason, yet because VOL. V.

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