pleasing no departing from old paths, or seeking out of new ways -no clashing of pulpit with reading desk-no lowering of the standard of the cross, to lift on high the ensign of self-righteousness— none of the cold numbing essayism I was doomed to hear in my younger years, when our pulpits almost ceased to deserve the name of Christian watch-towers, from which Jesus, as "the way, the truth, the life," should alone be proclaimed, but which were rather open sentry-boxes, from whence so uncertain came the sound, and so indistinct the challenge, that it would have been difficult to decide whether the sentinel on his post belonged to the camp of Socrates, or Confucius, or Socinus.

X-Nothing of that nature offended me in the present instance. You could not doubt a moment in whose service the preacher was enlisted-he heralded forth his great Master's name and sufficiency with all possible freedom and faithfulness; and my own conviction of the man's character is, that before congregated kings and rulers taking counsel together against the Lord and against his Anointed, he would bear his testimony, even though he were to descend from the pulpit to the stake, and seal with his life the truth of the Gospel which he preached. But while I mention all this, I have still somewhat against him-and I have less scruple in making my exceptions, because I consider him to be but one of a class-a specimen of that LIBERTINE SCHOOL of Christian oratory, which has, in these modern days, sprung up among us-just the opposite extreme from that dull reading system formerly so prevalent. My friend of last Sunday was indeed too violent. The continuous extravagance of action-the overstrained emphasis of manner-the unselected coarseness of language-were to me unpleasant in the extreme; and it was painful to good taste, and almost offensive to good sense, to find statements, however true, too rigidly enforced, and a cause so good almost marred by the over zeal of its own advocate. Now, all this fervour, though it seemed to cover, surely did not compensate for the want of preparation, which was to me most manifest, not only in the almost total want of correct and appropriate phraseology, but in the uncurbed ambition of ornament, the bead-roll of metaphors, similes, and illustrations, which he counted off, as if the chambers of his imagery were forced open, and the crowd of figures which came jostling out, not only prevented the door from being shut, but overset taste and judgment in their eagerness to escape.

Q.-Perhaps he is one of those youthful sons of the Church, who despise preparation, and are, in their own estimation, Gospel Freedmen-who count it a fettering of the Spirit to premeditate or compose who apply to their own case and practice the promise of apostolical times, that when called on to preach, it shall be given them in that hour what they shall utter. 1 knew a very pious, and in other respects a painstaking minister, who took it up conscientiously that he should not prepare his sermons beforehand; and strange to say, of all men living, he was the most constitution. ally unfitted for such an enterprise-nervous to a high degreebashful almost to awkwardness-his mind far from fertile in ideas

-and yet his thoughts always flowed faster than he could find words to clothe them withal: I have seen this wrong-headed but worthy young man in his pulpit, and it was truly a painful ex bibition. He soon left the sphere of his usefulness, for he arrived at the conviction that his preaching was not acceptable, but could not be brought to forego what he conceived was an apostolic duty.

X-What was all this but downright enthusiasm ?

Q.-Yes, and what is worse, it is one of the signs of the times. Numbers like this extravagance; ladies, young and middle-aged, extol the "sweet preacher;" pious youths prepare to follow in his wake, and live in the hope of becoming his faithful imitators; and the religious world, taken exceedingly with the overstrained extravagances of the LIBERTINES, love their pulpit exhibitions, and give way to the religious licence of the age; while the sober few, instead of boldly putting down, by their united voices, the absurdities, content themselves with solitary and occasional protests.

X-Well, after all, though I must allow that I did not approve of my preacher last Sunday, and lamented to see a highly gifted young man marring his fine voice by a vociferation that would ultimately crack a throat of brass, and stimulating his fine imagination into an efflorescence of all that was gaudy and weedy, I would far rather have such a man as a popular and effective preacher, than one of your cold, didactic, sentence-balancing and period-turning prosers of the old school. Extravagance may be pruned-dulness can scarcely be stimulated. If the Libertines scatter their grapeshot indiscriminately, the Polishers sharpened their weapons until they ground away all the steel-and if such young men as I am alluding to, would only moderate their fiery extravagance, and bestow labour and pains in preparing themselves for the pulpit, they would prevent many of those painful exhibitions by which some of their weak-minded admirers mistake contortion for inspiration, and physical excitement for spiritual zeal; and thus be instrumental in allaying that thirst for excitement which too much prevails amongst the professors of the truth.

Q-What would you think of the introduction from England, of preachers, who, by occupying our more important pulpits, might exhibit what is the right method of Christian oratory?

X-Sooth to say, My dear Q. I am sure they would not suit Irish hearers; it is not easy to alter tastes, and you might as well expect to turn our people from their appetences for ardent spirits, to potations of nappy ale, as expect our congregations would resign contentedly, their stout, fervid, though stimulating preachers, for any that Oxford and Cambridge could supply, even supposing these worthies came with all the learning signified in their respective schools, by hoods, purple, pink, and scarlet. I have been more than once in England, and as far as my experience goes, Englishmen seem more capable of all other excellencies, than of preaching. In the general, I suspect there are more unprofitable sermons delivered in England, than in all the rest of Christendom. How often have I seen a hasty, yet cold parson, throw on his cold iron-moulded surplice, to run over his coldly read service-coldly

ascend his pulpit, and then stand before his chill audience, like an iceberg run aground on the banks of Newfoundland, from whence radiated such murky, foggy teaching, that all seemed inclined, as under the operation of intense cold, to stiffen down into a dead sleep.

Q.-Well, suppose-as Dr. Darwin once recommended that a number of icebergs should be towed down from their high latitudes, and moored along the shores of southern Europe, to cool the fervour of dog-day weather-that some such theological icebergs were towed into Dublin, to cool down our congregations to the required temperature of sound sobriety. What would you say to that?

X-Why, I opine that our congregations would be apt to slip away from their moorings, and Messrs. Littlewick, Soundtext, and other Dissenting ministers, would find their chapels overflowing with the supply drained off from the usual currents of the Established Church.

Q.-Now, X. I think you are too fond of bringing extremes into juxta position; and you have been strangely unhappy in your experience of English preaching, as well as unfair in your statements; for the country that has produced a Whitefield and a Hall, not to speak of bright living characters, ought not be stigmatised as you have done, I must say so unfairly. I am free to confess that all the learning, taste, and chastened classical composition of the clerks of Cambridge or Oxford, will not make a popular preacher, unless at the same time he is endowed with that vis vivida-those "thoughts that breathe, and words that burn,”—which are essential to effectual preaching. But still, my dear friend, do not carricature English moderation, while you at the same time are free to reprove Irish extravagance.

X.-Yes, but I would and will object to what you call moderation, for I deem such lukewarm Laodicean exercises, have absented from the Establishment, almost half the English population. Why the poor people, who want preaching most, and to whom it should come home apprehensively-warmly-touchingly; they can make nothing of the dull, dry ethics that come forth in elaborate sententiousness from these hooded scholastics; and they withdraw to conventicles where such as Whitefield-fiery and unfettered, touch,

"with a master's hand, and prophet's fire," the chords of human passion, until, as under the influence of a present Deity, the heart thrills, and the soul that was "dead in trespasses and sins," is made alive.

Q.-Well I do agree with you, that if the pulpit orator expects to be popularly effective, he must, in order to make others feel feel himself—in urging others to the Christian warfare, he must not say go, but come-he must lead in the van, and not stay behind in the rear; and all alive to his great work must he be, when he would rouse the worldling from his repose-when he would lift the prodigal from the swine-trough, where he is feeding on sensual husks. He must show himself as one who has experimentally felt the mighty influences he would call down on his people, and with strong affection, as from his heart (while his life illustrates

the bright position,) declare to his people-" O come hither and see what the Lord has done for My soul."

But still, my dear X, I feel constrained to express my fear concerning many who have entered, and are now entering our ministry -that they do not seem sufficiently guarded against the snares that Satan baits with lures adapted most attractively to the besetting propensities of ardent young men. There is an ambition so natural to our fallen nature, of winning followers, and having praise of men, that it follows us into our most sacred actions, and besets us the more at the very time we are thinking of doing all for God. The young minister mounts his pulpit, after having his name placarded in high places, as the eloquent advocate of some fashionable charity, and with secret satisfaction-with a flutter, which he is scarcely conscious springs from vanity-he sees, as he ascends to his arduous eminence, crowded pews and thronged aisles-oh what delicious appliances float around him, as all eyes are directed to where he stands. Who will say there is not danger here, and that deadly? which must be prayed against, and wrestled with, with all supplication and self-abasement, lest the young subject of popularity may be preaching for self more than for Christ.

But what is worse than all-the very popularity of the youthful favourite, may not only make him a self-seeker, but a self indul ger, and an idler. He becomes wonderfully in demand. He has procured a large collection, and has preached the Gospel to perishing sinners; and how can he refuse, when on all sides solicited to do the same again? But this is not all-his fame grows―he must lecture here, and expound there he must take the lead in prayer meetings; and in school-rooms, and drawing-rooms, announce the sweet and bright views with which he is imbued; then in the mornings his time is so occupied in committees, and no public meeting can go on without finding him on the platform; thus runs on a life of religious dissipation-injurious to his health-injurious to his mind-injurious to his character, as a scholar-a divine-a preacher. How can the victim of such excitement prepare himself properly for any one of the numerous undertakings he has on hand? And now his sermons-the very things that made his character, and belonged to his character, are growing weaker and weaker every day; formerly there was care taken in the composition-study and practice were not neglected, and art was brought to bear, even though it was employed "colare artem," but now there is no time for all this-the man begins to draw upon his old funds-to repeat himself to fit old sermons to new texts or to act the improvisatore, when he formerly was a well-prepared extempore preacher. Like a river expanded over too many channels, its shallowness is known by its babbling. But it is in vain for any length of time to deceive the public; and smart sayings-startling paradoxes, or bitter burning denunciations, will cease to satisfy, when it found that there is nothing new-nothing instructive-nothing good that a person can profitably carry away from such an "enfant gate-such a spoiled child of religious popularity.

My dear Sir, the man who desires to be lastingly useful in his

preaching, must NEVER forgo the duty of arduous preparationhumbling prayer, and serious meditation, together with careful comparison of Scripture with Scripture, and consulting on the subject in hand, the pious and prudent and learned of other times; and then he may come before his audience as one well appointed, and well prepared, bringing out of his treasures things old and new.

X.-Yes, but do you not think all these, your requirements, rather too severe a draft on parish ministers, especially city curates, whose daily ministrations-whose routine of ritual duties-whose conscientious visitings from house to house, must occupy so much of their time, that they can scarcely be expected to give more than a day, or sometimes part of a day in the week for the pulpit preparation of the following Sunday?

Q-Certainly, there should be great allowance for city curates, and therefore it is that I think that in large city churches, one person should in a great measure be set apart who might give himself up to preparation as the Christian orator of the parish. But X. I tell you what I think I have observed that those who have most time on their hands, seem to make least use of it for the purposes we have alluded to. I consider that it is not for want of leisure, but want of inclination-want of a teachable humble spirit that hinders our youthful orators from due preparation. The man, Sir, is self-sufficient-he thinks his genius should luxuriate like a tree in a large place, without pruning or training-he, with all show of humility, is apt to be spiritually proud; such a man overvalues his own understanding, his own powers, conceits, and reasonings. It is this pride of young priests that has distracted the church in all ages; and when you see schism and separation going on, and sad havoc made in the church, you might as well doubt that pride was the cause, as call in question that the wind could not blow down trees and houses. It is against such young self-sufficiency that the Scripture warns us, when Paul declares that "a bishop must be no novice, lest being lifted up by pride, he fall into the condemnation of the devil." Young men of talent, energy, and popular powers, have need of watching against that propensity towards singular opinion, and that desire to be the dogmatic leader who identifying bimself as possessing the mind of Christ, would, as it were, wish to make king of the church, the king only of Diotrephes's little party. Oh, how many a narrowing soul have I thus witnessed, who would shut up the church in his own little nutshell, and who make the perfection of religion to consist in being ANTICA

THOLIC.

X.-Well, I do think I have myself met some of those doctrinaires; and it was wonderful to me how far they let their fancies carry them on, and how they would argue with every man, but listen to none. Let such a person get a fond opinion on any point, and his mind will make light of all that is said against it; and he will fasten on every sophism that will give it a false glare-he will torture texts, distort allegories, and apply types for his own accommodation; and though all learning, all judgment, genius, and argumentative powers, were set in array against him, together with