it be thoroughly and transparently sincere, and full of faith, it attains the highest order of moral influence. Few men are without the means of testing the point. Every one feels very differently in the presence of an earnest believer and a mere formalist or cold sceptic. If a man come with his mind made up about a thing, if he take it for granted that he shall succeed, if no idea of aught else possess him, there is vastly more difficulty in refusing him than if he had come trembling and doubting, failure being less surprising than success, and his whole manner suggesting and almost asking for denial. And in cases where the object sought is one of moral excellence, and its claims are recognised, there is no comparison between the appeals of him all whose sympathies are evidently at one, and all in deep and energetic action, and of him who merely discharges a professional duty, or displays a decent amount of spiritual emotion. Herein lies the great superiority of a man to a book. The living spirit cannot be impressed upon the page, as it may be made vocal, visible, and palpable, in the speech, expression, and manner, of a human messenger of truth. And it is the living spirit that quickeneth. The heart communes with the heart. Sympathy is the law and mode of moral power. All engagements, all kinds of intercourse, all public movements, prove it. The courageous general electrifies his men, the enthusiastic teacher kindles a generous love of learning in his scholars, and on the same principle, though in a nobler state and mystery of operation, the impassioned preacher 'saves them that hear him.' In the life of Dr. Arnold we meet with this striking testimony from one who knew him well :- 'The most remarkable thing which struck me at once on joining the Laleham circle was, the wonderful healthiness of tone and feeling which prevailed in it. Everything about me I immediately found to be most real; it was a place where a new comer at once felt that a great and earnest work was going forward. This impression resulted from the spirit of reality that pervaded the minds in that establishment, and this spirit was sustained, as it had been generated, by the reality of his spirit who presided over it. It was not by arts and tricks, nor by spasmodic effects of zeal, nor by cold, severe, official authority, that Dr. Arnold changed the moral character of the great school committed to his charge, but by being what he taught, by showing faith that could not but be trusted, and kindness that could not but be loved, and honour that could not but be revered, and thus making moral excellence the growth of souls. And it is just thus that many men of parts not pre-eminent, of doctrines without novelty in nature or in mode, and destitute of the accidents of popular acceptance, command a strange influence over the minds of others. The learned marvel because of their ignorance, the eloquent because they are rude, the original, because they are common-place, and they may all marvel while they look in these directions; the secret of their success is in the energy of a will instinct with divine life, and the penetrating quickening power of affections stimulated and sanctified by 'the things of God.' The effects produced are unquestionably and exclusively attributable to divine influence, as much so as were the physical miracles performed of old, and yet, as in the case of those, the mental condition of the instruments may be a matter of prime importance. Some men cannot produce them, because they have not 'faith; and who can possess the faith, but they whose entire moral being is in close and habitual communion with the spirit of holiness, who walk in the light, and dwell in God?

There is but one other point to which we shall advert, viz., ministerial example. The power of example is too stale a topic to require any illustration or confirmation. Our object regards its connection with a particular function. Whatever truth or importance belongs to the general maxims respecting the influence of right conduct upon others, attaches with peculiar ob. viousness to those maxims, as applied to the subject in hand. The minister occupies a position more conspicuous than that of many, and the nature and design of his work are necessarily identified with moral considerations. His object being to make men good, there is a virtual challenge in every instance of its performance, to contemplate and criticise his own character. And men will not be backward to accept the challenge. The depravity which makes his work necessary, is too eager to find excuses for itself, and retorts for its reprovers, not to catch for these purposes at any inconsistencies in the preachers of righteousness. It may be true enough that a bad man may teach a good doctrine, and that, if men were wise, they would not injure themselves by rejecting the last for the sake of the first; but the question is one of fact, not of right; relates to what they do, and not to what they ought to do; and it is too plain for dispute, that the sins of ministers present a fatal stumbling-block in the way of many, and that their carelessness and worldly walk operate with disastrous efficacy as a hinderance to the elevated spirituality of many more. We by no means suggest that there are two standards of holiness, one for pastors, and another for people. But deviation from the one standard is attended with more, and more evil, consequences in the case of the former, than in that of the latter. It is a public fact. It has the miserable effect of the breaking down of a witness, or rather his giving evidence favourable to the other side. Nothing can exceed the necessity of a plain, prominent, incontrovertible uprightness, on the part of ministers. The requirement of their case is not met by anything else. They are observed by too great a variety of minds, are exposed to too many and dissimilar perils, to be safe personally or officially without it. Their purity must be without a flaw, and without a doubt. Like Cæsar's wife, they must not be suspected. It is not sufficient that they can be vindicated; there must be no need of vindication. The materials of a full defence may be possessed, but there must be no occasion for a charge. Over and above the absence of any real ground of condemnation, there must be the impossibility of supposing one. Vindication cannot always be made, even where the matter is abundant, and at hand; and the existence of a charge, although disproved, leaves an impression which is not easily destroyed. But this is only one view of the subject. There may be such a character as cannot be impeached, and yet not such an one as subserves the highest ends of practical goodness. Truth, honesty, purity, gravity, and all other moral qualities, may be found in him who yet fails to attract attention and respect by the ethereal and high-toned nature of his excellence. And the attributes of Christian grace may be marked by no radical defect in him who leads not observers to witness of him that he is 'filled with the Spirit.' And if a minister, of whose essential piety there is no suspicion, still indicate that he has a very cordial love of this world's goods, a nice appreciation of physical dainties, a strong sense of personal dignity, an eager desire for the praise of men, it will detract amazingly from all his expositions, however luminous, and all his applications, however faithful, of the evil of covetousness, self-indulgence, pride, and vanity.

There is one bearing of a blameless character in the ministerial work, that deserves peculiar notice. Nothing weakens the heart more than a consciousness of insincerity. If there be a secret conviction of unsoundness as to the thing aimed at, of guilt in respect of the sin denounced, or neglect in respect of the duty commended, there is and must be failure in courage or in power, or both. 'No real greatness,' says Coleridge, 'can long co-exist with deceit. The whole faculties of man must be exerted in order to call forth noble energies; and he who is not earnestly sincere, lives in but half his being, self-mutilated, selfparalysed.' This general doctrine is founded on a principle whose application to our present subject is clear and close. The duty of a faithful minister is not alone to teach the doctrine of good works, nor to specify the ways in which this doctrine is violated; he must also, in order to make full proof of his ministry, come into personal collision with evil consciences. He is charged with the direct reproof of men. Private expostulation is part of his official work. In the discipline of the church he must ever be a prominent agent. But with what amount of fidelity is he to be expected to discharge this painful responsibility, how almost morally impossible is it for him to attempt it, how plausible must excuses for its neglect appear in his view, and if he set himself to the task, how feebly and timidly must he accomplish it, if he possess not the testimony of his conscience that he is perfectly exempt from the faults it is his business to expose and reprobate, and if he be not free from every particle of fear lest in dealing with other's sins he provoke animadversion on his own defects? The bold and successful reprover of sin must have the full approval of his own mind. 'The snuffers of the sanctuary were of pure gold.' But this blamelessness of life, this entire and transparent holiness, is inseparable from deep-rooted godliness. It cannot be assumed; it grows out of the heart. Care and circumspection will fail, if they be alone. A man can be certain to practise all righteousness, to present a universal and habitual pattern to the church and the world, only as he is righteous, loves, delights in, gives himself to, God. It must be a natural habit, not a studied act.

We are fully aware that the question may, and will be put, — How are we to secure the sterling spiritual qualities on which you lay so great a stress? It is a momentous question, too momentous to be hastily dismissed. We can do no more than offer one or two suggestions in reply. Our first remark is, that the men must be possessed of them before they are pledged or invited to the ministry at all. We apprehend, that the design of colleges is grievously misunderstood, when they are considered as intended to supply any great defect in the spiritual principles of those who enter them. They may train and direct and enlighten the godliness of students, but, certainly, they cannot be expected to effect any peculiar augmentation of it, or, in a general way, to do more than keep it up, or at least, to secure its keeping pace with the other growths of the soul. So far from it, we are inclined to think that the course of study which is prosecuted in them, may easily be allowed to check the advancement of the higher religious powers. It involves processes which eminent religion is required to pass through without injury. The straining of the mind, the constant familiarity with the mere secularities of knowledge, the habitual treatment of sacred things as matters of grammar, and criticism, and composition, and eloquence, are liable to blunt the edge and dull the polish of heart-piety, and must do so, unless there be a more than common unity and steadfastness of purpose to 'grow in grace.' There may be exceptions in this as there are in all things, but it would be a folly condemned by all past experience, and all philosophy, to anticipate from a collegiate career the removal of any previous defects in the faith and the fervour of those who have to pass through it. The right men must be, and be seen to be, the right men, before they enter upon that career. We speak not without a full perception of our own meaning, and a perfect readiness to maintain it, when we say that the rule in God's church is, that the commencement of the religious course shall ascertain its conduct. Whatever examples may exist to the contrary, men are at the beginning of their Christian history what they are through it. The seedtime decides the harvest. If there be faint convictions of truth, weak affections towards it, doubtful consecration to it, in the season of conversion, and early spiritual life, if there be nothing clear marked and noticeable about the first operations of divine influence, we do not deem it safe to entertain any sanguine expectation that future years will witness great excelling. The weakly infant may possibly turn out a mighty man, but it would be absurd to dedicate him, while a weakly infant, to a work which only a mighty man is fit for. The indispensable qualifications for candidateship for the ministry of souls is, in our view, such a power and painfulness of zeal for God and men, as would not allow the possessor to be happy or easy unless 'separated,' in some way of special directness, 'unto the Gospel of Christ. We eschew the cant that has often been expressed by 'a call to the ministry, but we believe in, and honour the truth which it may stand for. A call there is, or ought to be. To enter the greatest of all offices without 'a call' is presumptuous absurdity. That call is not outward election, not signs of circumstances, not merely mental impressions, but essentially, and above all, such a vehement anxiety to 'serve God in the Gospel of his Son,' such a sense of the goodness and glory of this service, and such a fulness of purpose to do this 'one thing,' as must leave the heart sorrowful and sick, unless the service be allowed. The ministry must not be a dubious preference, something on the whole better than something, or than anything, else, but the engagement which alone meets the *master-craving of the mind. He only will do much in it, who could do nothing out of it; who feels that it is not an office selected, so much as an office imposed; not a matter for decision, but of destiny; not what he may properly accept, but what he dare not possibly refuse; that necessity is laid upon him, yea, woe be unto him if he preach not the gospel.' And if there be this state of mind, admission into a college will not be a necessary condition of labouring in the gospel. The working out of the desire and determination of the mind will not depend on the approval of men. The spirit within will shape itself into