have official authority, as did the elders of the primitive church; and as preachers, they will have great personal influence, corresponding with the purity of their lives, and the ability and faithfulness of their public instructions. But they will not be lords over God's heritage. They will neither have the power nor the disposition to legislate for the church. They will have the spirit which animated the Apostles when they called for the election of officers to take charge of the charities of the church, so that they might give themselves wholly to the preaching of the word. They will see, as in civil affairs the nations seem likely to learn after the sad experience of centuries of mis-gov. ernment, that the peace and pros perity of the people demand that they should be governed agreeably to the principles of liberty, equality and fraternity.

We may pass over the division of the discourse which relates to the church as it is, with the single remark, that we believe the Author has conceded too much to the preju dices of the "religious men" who "think that churches are of no use; that they rather hinder than help the cause of humanity." He admits that there is too much foundation for this charge, and accounts for it by saying that "the church, in past times, has thought its especial business to be to promote piety, not to promote humanity." We should say, that both the piety and humanity of the church have hitherto been too defective and too feeble to produce the proper effects of Christianity. It is not a want of just views of the nature of religion, as consisting in the love of man as well as of God, but the feebleness of love itself, to which these sad practical delinquences are to be ascribed. So far as our observation has extended we have found piety and humanity, the love of God and man, united, far more frequently than separate.

There are it is true a few noisy reformers in New England, not connected with the visible church; but in the late movements, as well as in all previous measures for meliorating the condition of man, the Christian ministry and Church have furnished nine-tenths of the effective influence. Who are the advocates of temperance, of peace, and of freedom, on whom reliance is chiefly to be placed for self-denying efforts in their behalf? A few men of no religious faith, like Jefferson and Franklin, and some of our own day, are entitled to gratitude for their sacrifices for humanity. But what, we ask, would become of the cause of human improvement, if it were left, without the aid of the church, to the sole advocacy of those who denounce that body as the bulwark of war and slavery, and every other time-honored abuse? think but one answer can be given to this question. Many members of the church have doubtless given too much occasion for the charge of inhumanity-but the world without is far more deserving of the charge. The church is a city set upon a hill; and all her defects are at once visible. Her professions make her inconsistences more glaring. But with all her faults, she is the only hope of the world.

We do not accord in every respect with our author's views of the church of the future. This church, he thinks, will admit of variety in its rites and forms; some parts of it observing the simplicity of the Quaker and others the most imposing rituals. He thinks, however, that the distinction between clergy and laity will entirely cease, and that the clergy-church will be changed into the church of the people. He does not expect that the sects will all be merged in one; nor that they will unite on any narrow gronnd, or upon any compromise or concession of their particular ideas. He thinks, if we under

stand him, that all the sects of today will continue to exist, holding their peculiarities, but regarding each other as entitled to respect and brotherly affection, and forming to gether one church universal, bound by no other tie than a common faith in Christ, but living in actual fellowship in Christian privileges and cooperating in all benevolent enterprises. In accordance with these views, he expects to see the Orthodox, the Unitarians, and the Spiritualists, all in close fellowship, on the basis of a single article. "Faith in Christ," he says, "is the bond of union-the one article of the church's creed." No matter what else is professed; no matter how this is understood; whoever "accepts Christ as the Master, stands on the foundation, and is within the limits of the true church."

How far we dissent from these views, in which we concur in part, will appear upon a brief statement of our own views. We use the word church, to denote (1) the whole body of true Christians; (2) all who appear to be Christians; and (3) any body credibly professing faith in Christ, associated for the observance of Christian ordinances. In the first case it denotes the universal invisible church; in the second, the universal visible church-both of which are unorganized bodies-and in the third case, an organized society, the members of which are in express covenant with each other, on the basis of a common creed. We hold that the universal visible church embraces all who in any way make themselves known as the disciples of Christ, notwithstanding they may differ from each other in many important points, and may not be enrolled in any local church. He is a member of this church who makes himself appear to other Christians, to be a Christian. As such he is entitled to certain privileges; to be recognized by his brethren as a Christian, and

to be received to their communion at the table of Christ. Believing him to be a Christian, they have no right, on any pretence, to treat him as an infidel. It is only on the ground of such heterodoxy in faith, or of such unchristian conduct, as destroys their confidence in his piety, that they can lawfully debar him from the table of Christ. He is not entitled to be received, as our author may be understood to teach, merely be cause he professes faith in Christ, but, if at all, because he shows himself by some satisfactory marks, to be a true believer in Christ—a truly regenerate person-penitent and obedient. He may be lawfully rejected if he professes the highest style of orthodoxy, with no better evidence of Christian character. The only question is, Is he a true Christian.

The reader will now be able to comprehend our idea of the church of the future. It is the universal visible church-the unorganized aggregate of all open confessors of Christ, in mutual fellowship-tenderly respecting each others' differences-coöperating in every labor of humanity and love-and gradually assimilating more and more toward unity in faith and practice. The points in which they differ may continue, at least for a time, to arrange them in independent and dissimilar organizations, but these differences will no longer disturb their harmony, and the tendency will constantly be to throw what is trivial more and more into the shade, and to correct the serious errors of all parties.

It will be seen from these remarks that we reject the idea of a comprehensive church, having a creed made up of patches from the systems of all the different sects. The idea that each sect is a special providence, designed to supply some deficiency in the other sects, seems to us fanciful enough to challenge the easiest credulity-too fanciful to

be gravely put forth as a probability. It is true of sects, as it is of all things, that they exist by divine permission, for some sufficient reason; and the reason in a particular case may be the one alledged; but to affirm it as a general principle of the providential government of God, without the shadow of evidence, is preposterous. A becoming sense of our own liability to error, with a charitable respect for other Christians, will lead us to examine their opinions with candor, if possible to discover in them something in which we are deficient. This is the course which has been recommended in our pages, as fitted to enlarge the charity of all Christians, and ultimately to unite all in that universal, visible brotherhood of which we have spoken. But this has no resemblance to a church comprehensive enough to take in "all the tendencies which now appear embodied in the different sects.' "In our opinion the church of the future will comprehend as many of all sects, and of no sect, as are visibly true believers in Christ; and will exclude

all others of all sects. And the members of this church will not go to the sects for their creed, except as helps to the better understanding of the Bible, to which the final appeal will always be made. In that day, the Orthodox, the Unitarians, and the Spiritualists, whom our au thor expects to see in one fold, will not, one and all, be likely to retain the same creeds which now distinguish them; and even if they continue as they are unchanged, those only who show themselves to be "living epistles of Christ," will be recognized as belonging to the great household of faith, the universal visible church.

In thus intimating and perhaps showing a difference of opinion from our author, on some points, we are not sure that we fully understand him, or that he really expects or desires that Christians may be come so latitudinarian as to embrace an eclectic system of doctrines, drawn from all the sects of Christendom. We would rather believe that his meaning is more accordant with the views of the subject expressed by us in this article.

them

Ir may be said in reference to all important subjects, theoretical and practical, that the neglect or violation of a single fundamental principle, will lead to disastrous consequences. Let us suppose in morals for instance, that in all extreme cases, the difference between falsehood and veracity, may be safely disregarded, and we undermine at once all the foundations of social happiness. Or let us in religion be governed more by inward impulses than by the written word; or let us be guided by the traditions of men or by the prevailing customs of society, to the neglect of a surer standard of duty, and we shall not fail

to be led into serious practical

errors.

What if in the mechanic arts, we were to set aside the principle of the lever or the screw in our calcu lations? What would become of the whole system of modern astronomy, if we were to disregard the attraction of gravity? What if in literature we were to observe no distinction between history and romance? or in oratory, were to suppose no difference between dramatic personation and the life-giving appeals of forensic or pulpit eloquence? Any one mistake of the kind would serve to vitiate all our teachings in regard to the sub

ject to which it should relate, and involve us in the mazes of practical

error.

The discovery of such a mistake in reference to the subject of religious song, will enable us to understand more clearly what is required of us in regard to church music; and characterize with some certain ty, the leading influences which are brought to bear upon this part of our public worship.

Whoever attentively compares the scriptural teachings in regard to the subject of praise, with what he usually notices in our religious assemblies, will not fail to be struck with the impropriety of the style. Praise, as it appears in the Scriptures, is a hallowed and delightful employment. It is the work of saints below, and the joy of angels and glorified spirits above. But praise in our religious assemblies is often a matter of frigid indifference on the one hand; and of unprofitable sentimentality on the other. The reading of a hymn from the pulpit secures devout attention; but when afterwards the same hymn is sung, the music either disturbs our meditations by its rudeness or inappropriateness, or it attracts towards itself a large measure of that attention which is due to the subject. How seldom do we realize in our experience, anything like that degree of devotional interest which the Scriptures warrant us in anticipating?

For this there must be some specific cause. What is it? We shall be referred perhaps to the low state of religion in the churches; to that low standard of piety which prevails among us. But if this were the true solution of the difficulty, might we not expect to witness a corresponding defect in public prayer? Praise and prayer, the Holy Scriptures teach us to regard as equally solemn and spiritual; but while the former has sadly degenerated-degenerated, we might alVOL. VI.

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most say, to a mere piece of formalism-the latter retains much of its true character and influence.

Look for one moment at the elevated character of our consecrated themes of song-themes, many of which would tremble upon the lips of social prayer! Do we generally feel in song the full import of what we are uttering? Do we feel in any measure as Isaiah did, when we sing, "holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of hosts?" Or when we exclaim

"Let all the powers within me join In work and worship so divine," do we really imagine ourselves to be speaking truth in devout sincerity as we do in prayer?

It has sometimes been urged, that a young and rising nation will not be given to musical pursuits like nations which are older. It should be remembered, however, that mu sic in every other department of the art among us, is found to do its appropriate office. The music of the field, the parlor, the concert room, and the oratorio, is continually rising in interest and improving in quality. Even in the church we witness in many places, much artistical improvement, while in regard to spirituality, the delusion continues, and perhaps increases.

But, again, we are often told that there is much want of knowledge. and discrimination-that ministers and leading members of the church treat the subject with neglect-that singers are of all people in the world, the most refractory and unmanageable. These things, however, are but the result of some specific cause-not that cause itself. The question returns: Why this deficiency in knowledge and discrimi nation, and this indifference to a subject of such moment? and why this contentious and unruly spirit in those who conduct the exercises of praise in Christian assemblies? The present age is not deficient in intellect, susceptibility, or practical dis

cernment; and there is nothing in the divinely constituted office of praise which should tempt us to the indulgence of ill temper.

There is one consideration which is adapted to throw much light on the subject. It is this: The nature of praise, compared with other re ligious exercises, embraces one remarkable, inherent peculiarity. It professes to associate intimately with the fervor of devotion, the pleasures of cultivated taste. Preaching and exhortation are clad in the manliness of plain and simple prose. Prayer employs a diction humble and subdued; but praise as a special instrument of enforcing religious truth and guiding our heavenward aspirations, proposes to address us at once with the attractions of poetry, and the eloquence of impassioned song.

This striking peculiarity, intended by the Head of the Church, no doubt, as a means of quickening and elevating our devotions, becomes through human infirmity, the direct means of hindering them. The reason is, we seize upon the the pleasures of taste as the principal object before us, and bestow upon that the exclusive labor of culti vation. The more these pleasures are heightened by art, without religious training, and the more attractive they become, the more they absorb our attention, even in the house of God, much as if we were sitting in a music room or a concert hall. This experience occasions disappointment to the more conscientious performers, who one by one desert the practice room and the choir, as affording no growth in grace and no religious enjoyment. And thus it happens that as the music becomes more artistic in character, it falls more entirely into the hands of those who are indifferent to the claims of spiritual religion. Such exclusive attention to art, while it defeats the wishes and expectations of the church, affords

peculiar gratification to the thoughtless, the gay, and the worldly; who censure the church for its growing indifference to the subject.

This disappointment fatally discourages many devout minds. They cannot speak against the inherent excellence of religious song, without speaking against the Bible; and are therefore silent. But they can act in accordance with their own painful experience, and imagine themselves justified in treating the subject for the rest of their lives with practical neglect. They perceive not the cause of failure; and as a strange fatality seems to attend their efforts, they sink in discouragement and remain deaf to all questions respecting their responsibility. This state of things is often thought to admit of no explanation and no remedy.

But do we not perceive in these facts, the neglect of a most important principle? Is it not an error that all our teachings and rehearsals of church music have reference to the manner without respect to the spirit of praise? This spirit will not be found to spring up spontane ously in the midst of laborious drill. ings upon the rudiments of notation and style. The thing is impossible. As soon might we expect the true spirit of religious exhortation, to awake unbidden, in the class-room of the elocutionist, whose sole object should be to communicate by exercises upon sacred words, a knowl edge of his favorite art. Every student in theology knows that the deadening influence of such exercises can be counteracted only by watchfulness and prayer. The exercises in themselves are useful-but their tendency is to cultivate oratory rather than produce unction-and if these were to constitute the chief preparation for the delivery of a sermon, they would not fail to drive the last vestiges of feeling from the pulpit.

The case is precisely the same in the ordinary practice of psalmody. The drillings upon tone, tune, time,