THE "odor of sanctity" which attaches to the office of the Christian ministry has ever claimed and received the deference of mankind. The ancient seers, prophets, and patriarchs who were commissioned to make known the will of the Supreme, under the impulse of a direct inspiration, were regarded as supernaturally endowed, and their utterances deemed oracular. Of this illustrious order of priesthood were Noah, Abraham, Moses, and Isaiah of the ancient world; and in riper times, the Divine Redeemer with his Apostles. A commission divinely authorized and invested with such moral grandeur, demands a corresponding elevation of character-intellectual, moral, and religious-in those who assume its functions; and the world naturally looks for these accessories.

"A parson," writes George Herbert, "is the deputy of

Christ for the reducing of man to the obedience of God." He further quaintly adds, "His apparel is plain, but reverend, and clean without spots or dust; the purity of his mind breaking out and dilating itself, even to his body, clothes, and habitation." This remark of Herbert probably originated the saying that "cleanliness is next to godliness."

Some regard the clerical profession with a blind, superstitious reverence-these are the victims of priestcraft. There are others, with equal absurdity, who deem it the asylum of iufatuation and indolence-these are the skeptical and profane. A third class are those who appreciate its worth, and who venerate the sacred office, regarding it as Heaven's expedient for securing the moral elevation and happiness of the race-an institution of the highest importance to man's present and eternal well-being. The history of the Pulpit is fertile of interest. It has spoken in tones of melting tenderness to the penitent, thundered its denunciations against the prevalence of vice; to the one it has brought down "airs from heaven," to the other "blasts from hell." All nations and climes it has sought to reclaim, anneal, and bless and many of the mighty minds of all times have yielded willing obedience to its teachings and its claims. It has triumphed through the long ordeal of persecution-all the mightier for the mastery it has achieved over the malice of its foes.

It is not necessary for us to analyse the various types of the clerical character-the ascetic and monkish, the devout and devoted, or the ludicrous and the hireling. Each has left its impress, and, with the exception of the latter, has achieved much for the good of mankind. We do not however include in our category the Jesuitical monk, any more than the hireling; both are the negation of all that is good. There are further subdivisions however among the pure types, such as the cheerful and the morbid. A recent writer on the subject observes: "The spiritual heroism of Luther, the religious gloom of Cowper, and the cheerful devotion of Watts, are but

varied expressions of one feeling, which, according to the frail conditions of humanity, has its healthy and its morbid phase, its authentic and its spurious exposition, and it is no more to be confounded in its original essence with its imperfect development and representatives, than the pure light of heaven with the accidental media which color and distort its rays. The prestige of the clerical office is greatly diminished, because many of its prerogatives are no longer exclusive. The clergy, at a former period, were the chief scholars; learning was not its distinctive quality more than sanctity."

This monopoly no longer obtains: the press has annihilated it. "Independent of the priestly rights, a clergyman, in past times, represented social transitions, and ministered to intellectual wants, for which we of this age have adequate provision otherwise; so that the most zealous advocate of reform, doctrine, or ethical philosophy, is no longer obliged to have recourse to the sacerdotal office in order to reach the public mind. This apparent diminution of the privileges of the order, however, does not invalidate, but rather simplifies its claims."

It is reduced to its normal state now. Notwithstanding this, it is to be admitted, that the intellectual and moral power of the modern pulpit suffers by comparison with the past. A recent writer in the London Times remarks: "Pulpit eloquence has fallen to a very low ebb. With the finest theme in the world before them-with all the hopes and anxieties which agitate the human breast during the brief interval which separates the cradle from the grave-as their subject, our preachers miss their opportunity. Are there extant, in print, collections of sermons by twelve living divines from the perusal of which any one would rise a more thoughtful or a better man? We think of the Taylors, Barrows, Souths, who have produced works of this kind which are still operative for good, although a couple of centuries may have passed away since their composition, and wonder what it can be in the constitution of modern society which has so completely dulled the capacities of our spiritual

* *

teachers. We ask for no polished periods, for no finished compositions, but simply for burning thoughts, couched in simple and homely phrase, such as those which in other days drew men from earth to heaven."

That the embassy with which the Christian minister is charged is one of difficulty is undeniable, for it has to contend against the moral forces constantly in operation in the human heart, which are antagonistic to its claims. Yet the sublimity and celestial grandeur of its character may well fire the zeal of its advocate, and render him superior to all opposition. Panoplied with the armory of Heaven, with the oracles of Divine truth for his exhaustless treasury, and the accompanying power of Him,

"Who touched Isaiah's hallowed lips with fire,"

for his guidance, what may he not be expected to achieve for the moral subjugation of the world?

There is certainly a vast difference between the ancient preachers and the modern; the entire abnegation of self and of the world, their simplicity and earnestness of style, with their wonderful power of reaching the sublime, must, to say the least of it, have been very extraordinary; and, perhaps, in following the type of the old Apostolic preachers, Bishop Latimer seemed to be a worthy descendant; and in him we appear to have the last of the ancients, and the first of the moderns; although it must be admitted that at times old Bishop Latimer, with others, indulged in terms too gross for modern and polite ears, often preached to the common people under a tree, his Testament hanging from his leathern girdle; while the courtly Ridley, in satin and fur, discoursed the same themes in stately cathedrals ;* both, however, were fired with a like zeal. Burnett says of Leighton, that he was a most exemplary character; having the greatest elevation of soul, the largest compass of knowledge, the most mortified and heavenly dispo

Bingham's Autobiography.

sition, that he ever saw in mortal. Of this class were Andrews, Cranmer, Jeremy Taylor, South, Luther, Bossuet, and Massillon. Matthew Henry once said, that "the Christian ministry is the worst of all trades, but the best of all professions."

Till Cranmer distributed and chained the Bible to every reading desk of the parochial churches of England, a few passages of Scripture inscribed on the walls were the only consolations of humble Christians.

Among the early Christians, the modern style of preaching was reversed; the preacher generally delivered his exhortation in a sitting posture, while the congregation heard him standing. Chrysostom preached in this manner. Men wore their heads covered in the church, in the time of Elizabeth. Laud alludes to the fact. The habit has been traced to the Hebrew Synagogue. Our Lord sat and disputed among the doctors in the Temple. Public expression of approval by the audience was made by tossing up their garments, or waving their plumes, in the times of Chrysostom and Jerome.

It is related even of Constantine the Great, that he did not resume his seat during a long sermon, by Eusebius, and that all the assembly followed his example.

In the thirteenth century, the Anglo-Norman clergy, according to the Abbé de la Rue, used the vehicle of verse for their sermons. In the Library of the Royal Society of London is preserved a sermon of this kind. One of these rhyming sermons was printed in Paris, 1834, entitled Un Sermon en vers, publié pour la première fois, par Achille Jubenal.

The title of clergy, given originally by St. Peter to all God's people, was, by Pope Hyginus, appropriated to the prelates and priests; "condemning," as Milton says, “the rest of God's inheritance to an injurious and alienate condition of laity." The title of Pope was also given to all bishops. The same pontiff (A.D., 138), being the first to adopt it.