popular; and the common people heard him gladly." It is melancholy to think how many able and beautiful discourses are almost lost, wasted, in consequence of the fault which we are now considering. By aiming too high they overshoot the mark altogether. They rise often and soar with a rocket-like brilliancy, producing no other effect but to awaken a momentary admiration.

And here I cannot help observing in regard to preaching, not to ours in particular, but to preaching in general, that it would be much better than it is, and vastly more effective, if there were a more entire absence from the minds of those who officiate, of all thought of self, of all desire of self-display; if there were a more entire singleness of purpose and aim, having reference solely to the glory of God, and the salvation of sinners; if there were a more entire self-absorption, if I may so express myself, in one deep, awful feeling of responsibleness. If I should venture to name what seems to me one of the most striking defects in the modern pulpit, I should say, that it is vain, ambitious, egotistical, and self-seeking in the extreme; that it is, in many cases, little more than a theatre for self-exhibition. There is, I have often thought, among many of our preachers of the present day, a sad want of what Fenelon calls Christian simplicity, self-forgetfulness, self-abandonment, an overlooking and losing of themselves in the greatness and importance of their subject. They doubtless wish to do good, to promote virtue and dissuade from vice; but they wish also to sustain and heighten their reputation, to draw attention to themselves. In the composition and delivery of their sermons there is too often an evident desire to shine, to excite admiration. They are not willing to preach Christ only, but they must preach themselves, in part, likewise. They covet usefulness, but they covet popularity too, and usefulness, sometimes, it is to be feared, as a means of popularity. And what they seek they obtain. They have their reward, but is it such as the Christian teacher should be most anxious to secure?

Every profession has its dangers and temptations, and this unquestionably is the exposed side of ours. We would win souls to Christ, but we would also win favor and applause to ourselves. And it is the having of this two-fold object before us, it is this complexity of motive and aim,

which does more than any thing else, I think, to weaken the effect of our ministrations, and to prevent us from receiving that full blessing upon them which we might otherwise hope to receive. This, I repeat, is our weak side. Here we need to be most upon our guard. We should watch and pray against this our infirmity, our characteristic and besetting sin. Let us strive to keep our "eye single," looking to but one end, the fulfilment of our ministry, by bringing sinners to repentance. And as it will sometimes happen, while composing a sermon, that certain turns of thought or expression will present themselves to our minds, which seem to us particularly brilliant and happy, calculated to draw attention to ourselves — when this is the case, let us sacrifice them without mercy. We need more of the spirit of old Chrysostom, who, on receiving a burst of applause from his hearers, exclaimed, "What mean these acclamations, these empty plaudits, which I hear? I wish to be rewarded not by your praises, but by your conversion. This is the reward I wish to derive from my discourses, and this is all my ambition. I prefer your conversion to a kingdom." It is the mark of a truly good preacher, says one, that while he is actually preaching, the hearer does not think of him at all, that is, does not consider whether he speaks well, has talents, learning, refinement, gracefulness, but is wholly engrossed by the subject of the discourse and the impression it makes on his mind. and heart, and goes his way to meditate and pray, and bring forth fruits meet for repentance. Let a worthier ambition be ours, than to be to our hearers like the song of one who "hath a very pleasant voice and can play well on an instrument," whose words they receive and applaud, and that is the end of it. But that is not the end of it, either to them or to us. A day of reckoning is coming, when inquisition will be made, not only how they have heard, but how we have preached. Then a single soul, saved by our faithfulness from death, will be deemed a richer recompense than the most brilliant reputation which minister or mortal ever gained.

There is still another defect in much of our preaching, which, though not peculiar to ourselves, may merit a moment's consideration. It not only dwells too much in the region of abstraction, of vague generalities, but it does

not propose to itself a sufficiently distinct and definite object. We are too apt, I suspect, to look upon our congregations as a set of orderly, well-behaved, moral people, who need improvement, who need a larger measure of the Christian virtues and graces, who need to be somewhat more devout and spiritually-minded, and that is all. Whereas we have too much reason to believe, with regard to most of them, that they have not yet breathed even the first breath of the spiritual life; that they are wholly destitute of all true faith and vital godliness; that they need to be made over anew. They need repentance, conversion, regeneration, as much as did those to whom the Gospel was first addressed. They lack not one thing only, but everything that is peculiar and distinctive in the Christian life. They are spiritually dead; dead to all the higher objects, aims, interests, and hopes of their being; and they must be made alive. They must be awakened, aroused, made to feel their destitution and danger, made to feel that it is not the grosser vices alone which destroy the soul and disqualify it for heaven, but that worldliness, indifference, selfishness, thoughtlessness, frivolity, vanity, pride, ambition, avarice, will have the same fatal effect. Let them be taught that conversion is not a doctrine for felons only, but that it is equally necessary to the sober and decent worldling, to sinners of steady habits and respectable characters, to those who are "lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God;" that all such must pass through a change as mighty, a moral crisis as marked and striking, as our Saviour had in his thoughts when he said, "Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God." Let there be this plain, close dealing with our hearers. Let the great sanctions, the awful alternatives of the Gospel be urged home upon their minds and hearts, with those searching, probing appeals which penetrate and alarm the conscience; and they will feel no disposition to criticise, or compliment the preacher, but will go their ways "pricked in the heart, saying, men and brethren, what shall we do."

A voice is yet to issue from the pulpit, a winning, awakening, warning voice, of power to break the spell which worldliness, indifference and unbelief have fastened upon the minds of men; to rouse them to a sense of their spiritual dangers and needs; to raise them from the grave of

sense and sensuality to a vivid apprehension of things unseen and eternal, to a true, living, spiritual faith, to that love of God and imitation of his perfections, which is the resurrection and life. Let this voice be lifted up in all our pulpits, and the kingdom of God will come with power.

That this end may be realized, our preaching must become more direct, circumstantial, discriminating; it must be brought home more directly to the business and bosoms of men; more into contact with every point in the whole circle of their welfare, of their daily wants, duties, trials, pursuits and pleasures. It must be more adapted to that want of the age, which demands apt and pithy thought, vivid illustration, cogent argument and appeal, rather than well-turned periods. Our sermons must not be such as might have been written a quarter of a century ago. They must breathe the spirit, bear the form and pressure of the present day. They must be drawn less from books in our studies, less from the treasured stores of our minds, and more from our own personal experience and observation, more from what we have actually felt ourselves, and from what we have seen of the condition and wants of the living world around us. Let such be the character of our preaching, and it will produce greater and better results than we have yet witnessed from it.

Above all, what we most need to give full efficacy to our ministrations, is more faith ourselves; a more earnest and living faith, a deeper conviction of the reality of what we teach and inculcate. We must be able to say, when we speak of religion, of the efficacy of prayer, of the duties, dangers, trials, joys and hopes of the Christian life, "We speak that which we do know, and testify that which we have seen." Through him who hath this faith of experience, a faith resting upon a firm historical basis, but transformed by the affections into a living sentiment, a kind of personal consciousness, the word preached will be quick and powerful to awaken the careless, to convince the skeptical, to convert sinners, and to establish believers in everlasting consolation and good hope through grace. God grant that we may possess and exercise more of this faith! May the great Shepherd of the sheep give us all grace to be faithful, and enable us so to dispense the truths of his word, as to save ourselves and those who hear us!

THE book of "The Revelation" has never been satisfactorily interpreted. This failure, however, has not been owing to neglect and indifference. Men of profound learning and of shining talent, in the different ages and countries of Christendom, have zealously, and with sanguine expectations of success, attempted the work of Apocalyptic exposition. To what, then, is it owing, that this portion of the Bible remains unexpounded? We suggest that the book has been made too much of. Interpreters have thought to obtain from it knowledge which it does not contain. They have attributed to it the character of prospective history; have thought that it reveals the future as history records the past, that it is particular and chronological, having dates and periods which definitely designate "the times and the seasons" of the future. We conceive this to be an entire mistake. God, evidently, in our view, has never intended that Christians should foreknow them. "Secret things belong to the Lord our God," being "kept in his own power." There is, however, a strong tendency in human nature to grasp at the future; to anticipate the occurrences of Divine Providence; to employ Scripture as the organ of prescience; to interpret the general as being particular; to understand chronological terms of indefinite import as being strictly and literally exact. It is a significant fact, and worthy of consideration, that the chronological terms of Scripture prophecy are either round, popular numbers, or even parts of such numbers. Seven, ten, twelve, a thousand, etc. are round, popular numbers, which in language of general description have an indefinite import. "I will yet punish you seven times for your sins" does not, obviously, signify any definite number of times. "Seven times" were to pass over the king of Babylon, while in a state of insanity; these times may be understood as being either moons or years. A moon is "a time" as much as a year; and men reckoned time by moons ages sooner than they reckoned it by years. The "seven times" is an expression as indefinite as the terms, "for a while," "for a season,' ""for a time." The "times, time and the dividing of time" is just half of seven