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and to a very narrow circle of hearers. This is no day when he can be a mere theologian or Bible reader, and yet accomplish the best that may be done for his parish. It is the world of to-day with which he has to deal,-a busy, thinking, inventive, intellectually daring and inquiring world. Paul did not preach on Mars' Hill as he preached in Colossa and Thessalonica. He brought his knowledge of philosophy and literature into play, and the modern minister must do likewise. So long as the "heavens declare the glory of God," the minister must be something of an astronomer. Let him have his own telescope and charts, if he can afford it. can probably better afford it than to lumber up his library with the complete works of Augustine and Jerome. So long as the "earth showeth God's handiwork," the minister must keep abreast of the natural sciences. So long as "day unto day uttereth speech," he must read history, get at its inner meaning, and be able to interpret its broadest lessons. So long as the question stands in Holy Writ and lies unanswered in the hearts of men, "What is man that God is mindful of him," the minister must be a persistent and unwearied student of human nature in all its many phases. He must be an anatomist and physiologist, a metaphysician and psychologist, a statesman or student of government, and even in the best sense a politician. He must be a social scientist, and, whether at first hand or through the novel and books of travel, a student of all social manners, customs, and foibles. Above all must he be a student of poetry, nay, himself a prose-poet, rising into the higher regions of ideality and ranging through the emotions of the human heart, “looking not on the things which are seen, but on the things which are unseen."

We will not undertake to say whether, as a student of government and politics, he may venture to take the platform in behalf of a party or a candidate. This must be determined by the urgency of the case, and by his ability to speak wisely and well. The minister is certainly a citizen, but a citizen holding special office. There is an unwritten constitution, which surrounds him with statutes of limitation. These 'statutes may be set aside only when the public good demands it. Declarations of independence, unless absolutely necessary, are apt to be meaningless, if not harmful.

We need not attempt to settle the question whether a minister may become a writer of novels and histories. A creditable success in these branches of literature requires peculiar gifts and the trained skill of the specialist. It is a favourite field with clergymen, and some have succeeded;

notably, within recent years, the late J. R. Green and E. P. Roe. This success, it is true, carried both these gentlemen out of the ministry, but even ministers may quit their calling, if it be for the greatest good of the greatest number.

We will not say whether, in studying human nature or social phases, a minister may search the slums of a great city, and narrate his observations from the pulpit; nor whether he may visit theatres for the improvement of his mind, the widening of his knowledge, or to help make theatres and theatre-going respectable. A noted preacher did the former, and thus increased his audiences, if not his usefulness, while the same preacher declares that theatre-going is altogether wrong.

Nor will we venture an opinion as to whether the minister may treat his pulpit as a formal chair of biblical literature, and affirm as truth concerning the Pentateuch views wholly subversive of those commonly accepted. A New York clergyman has recently done this, and his bishop has requested him to stop, lest he do harm.

These are questions of casuistry, and proper to be discussed. We may perhaps be called on to decide some of them without discussion. Others we can probably better afford to hang up, as Dr. Bushnell hung up his doubts. Some things, however, seem already sufficiently evident; and these may turn out to be privileges quite as valuable as visiting the theatre, or speaking in behalf of a party. A minister may certainly contribute to a symposium in a speculative review, and, if his article be a good one, he will increase his influence thereby without veering off the course of his profession. He may write for the daily papers, and he must read them, whether he approve of all that is in them or not. He may interest himself in public schools, may join a scientific or historical society, may lecture occasionally on questions of secular interest, and may become a recognized authority in matters of archæology and the fine arts, or make a specialty of some branch of curious and antiquarian inquiry. By such side pursuits as these the ministry has not only elevated itself in public esteem, and thereby increased its influence within its own peculiar sphere, but has also contributed substantially to the intellectual well-being and social happiness of mankind.

Something of this kind, by way of specialty, every clergyman must select for himself, in order to keep up his intellectual tone and maintain the just equilibrium of his mind. Our work is peculiar in requiring of us general and well-nigh universal information, and we are therefore in danger of

losing the habit of mental exactness and thoroughness. Some specialty, chosen early and followed as an avocation during life, will obviate this danger. Our work, though general, is also intense in certain directions. We are liable to become mere preachers in the sense of professional censors; the constant care of the churches may lead us to "talk shop;" or through the incessant study of theology the whole world takes on a theological colour, and we become habitual theorizers and moralizers. We know a clergyman who cannot look at a sunrise or watch an approaching storm without thinking how he might use it as an illustration. We know another, who, when a student of theology, went through the big Centennial building, note book in hand, in order to collect points for sermons. Such utilitarian methods tend to convert preachers into sermonizing machines. As machines they are very perfect, but they can run only in one way, and they turn out only one kind of product. Now, some branch of inquiry, whether of general or special interest, yet quite apart from ecclesiastical and theological themes, will help preserve the minister's mental symmetry.

But these things should not be allowed to take the place of vocation or encroach on its field. The minister is not a poet, novelist, or historian. He is neither college professor nor member of Congress. His work is to preach the gospel both in and out of the pulpit, to care for the souls of his flock, and lead them to Christ. He must believe in this work with all his heart, as the most honourable and important that he could enter on. He must love it more than these. Time spent in any other way when his parish needs his care, unless by way of rest or necessary preparation, is time misspent. If he finds that his side employments are leading him to despise or undervalue this work, he is giving avocation the place in his heart which vocation alone should occupy. If he has plainly mistaken his calling, he should seek another, but, so long as he remains in it, he is bound to give to it the best of his life and soul. Many a minister who might have been happy and useful has been spoiled by allowing himself too much latitude in his intellectual pursuits, or by giving too much time to some favourite specialty. And a discontented and half-hearted minister is about the most pitiable person in the world. Choosing a calling is very much like choosing a wife: it will not do to look askance when proposing. A man must look his calling squarely in the eye, and take it bravely to his heart. But choosing the ministry as a calling is not so much like proposing as falling in love. It should be one of those

matches which are said to be made in heaven, where divided affections are worse than none.

It is scarcely needful to mention the money-making avocation. Clergymen will doubtless all agree to exclude it as not only questionable, but as positively bad. In the moneymaking mania lies a great danger of modern society, and the clergyman must not be enervated or destroyed by it, or woe unto him and woe unto his flock! Preachers who cannot support themselves in the pulpit have usually missed their calling, but a preacher who would descend from his pulpit simply to make money needs to be converted.

The minister's vocation is both high and broad. In the loftiness of its opportunities and the breadth of its privileges no other human calling can compare with it. The world with its allurements we have always with us, but our opportunities as preachers and pastors we have not always. The tendency of the age is toward liberty, and it is certain that the ministry will broaden with the age. We do well, then, if we direct our eyes upward, as well as outward, and lend our best aspirations to the attainment of a high ideal.

RR

IX.-MUSIC AND WORSHIP.

BY PROFESSOR POTTER.

THE first and noblest use of music was said of old to be the offering of praise to the Immortals; the next the purifying, regulating, and harmonizing of the soul. Worthy of Plutarch, to whom it has been attributed, this utterance is surpassed by that in the Book of Job, upon the creation. "The morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy; for thus is seen not only the natural and pleasing but also the divinely ordered union of music and worship. Spiritual song and angelic and divine life are revealed close to our mundane being, so that notwithstanding our material environments, God is not very far from each one of us. Around this dim and disordered world, music is sounding from the stars, and the accompanying voices are those of the sons of God. Not matter merely moved by soulless laws and forces, but circumambient soul-life is disclosed, realm on realm of spiritual being, all centering in God. Not a spiritually void and lifeless universe is this; not a reign of mere law with motion in fixed orbits, and exact, remorseless forces; not a series of mathematically inevitable processes alone, but a world with attendant spiritual life, a universe replete with expressive music, rousing God's sentient sons to responsive songs of praise. "The heavens declare the glory of God" in that "their sound is gone out into all lands and their speech to the ends of the world."

First heard at the laying of the corner stone of the creation, the song has sounded on, until, at Christ's advent, clouds open and mortal cars are quickened to hear a multitude of the heavenly host, with the announcing angel, now celebrating the laying of the Everlasting Corner-stone, the birthday of the re-creation. It is a sublime thought, a universe vocal with the praise of God, from planets and stars and systems as well as from the answering voices of the sons of God. This assertion of the connection of music and worship in the on-going of the universe is apparently much older than the most ancient literature. Sages among Chaldeans, Babylonians, and Egyptians, whose systems of music, worship, and astronomy were