der this head, however, I think it right to advert to the erroneous doctrine that every true believer knows himself to be such. The reformers, at the outset, used very strong language on the necessity of assurance to saving faith. But the Protestant theologians soon became more cautious. They found, as we find, that there are good Christians of whose salvation no one doubts but themselves. Calvin, speaking of faith, allows for "the thick gloom of temptation" "in which its light is smothered” (Inst. III. ii. 25). The Westminster Assembly's Confession declares that "infallible assurance does not so belong to the essence of faith, but that a true believer may wait and conflict with many difficulties before he be partaker of it," and that "true believers may have the assurance of their salvation divers ways shaken, diminished, and intermitted" (Art. XVIII, 3, 4). The return to extreme statements on this subject is to be deprecated, and, for one, I must strongly protest against the mutilation of the noble old hymn of Watts: "Not all the blood of beasts, On Jewish altars slain," By which the stanza— "My soul looks back to see, The burdens thou didst bear, is made, in Bliss and Sankey's Hymn book, to read: "My soul looks back to see, The burdens thou didst bear, And KNOWS her guilt was there." 2. The advantage of throwing off whatever is perfunctory or mechanical, in the services of religion. Religion is, and must be, organized into an institution. Preaching and worship occur at regular intervals, at definite times, and in places set apart for the purpose. It would be strange if, in the case of both ministers and hearers, the services of religion did not become, in a greater or less degree, perfunctory. Men may preach, and even pray, as they wind up their watches in the morning, merely because the customary time has come. The services of religion, simply because they are repeated week after week, may sink into a lifeless routine. An evangelist who comes for a short time, and then goes, who holds his meetings in a building specially erected for his use, at unusual times, also, and under circumstances altogether peculiar, is comparatively free from this exposure. But the sight of his work may serve to remind us of it, and stimulate us to guard against so insidious a foe. One part of the lesson is to aim at, and expect, results. The end of the sermon is to produce an effect. Something is to be done and accomplished. The auditors are to be made to see a certain truth, to feel in a certain way, to resolve upon a certain line of conduct. One who is not striving for such a result, to be achieved on the spot, might as well beat the air. A preacher who is thus in earnest, and practical in the true sense of the term, will be very much aided in casting aside all cant, and all conventionalities of speech of whatever nature, and will be more likely to give to the truth a fresh and living expression. When a great religious ferment exists in any age -for example, the sixteenth and first half of the seventeenth centuries- religious thoughts and emotions create for themselves a language of their own. This language is handed down, and becomes a traditional vehicle, which is kept in use after it ceases to suit the consciousness of a later generation. Religious truth becomes incrusted in words and phrases which hide it, instead of revealing it. In that case, religious teaching fails to come home to the "businesses and bosoms" of men; and, consequently, they stay away from church; or, if this does not happen, "the hungry sheep look up and are not fed." It is an immense gain when a minister can break through these fetters, and speak in the natural language of the living generation. The old truth is made new when it is uttered in the words of to-day. I have in mind an eminent preacher widely diverse from Mr. Moody in education and in habits of mind, the Rev. Phillips Brooks. Yet one prime source of the interest with which the sermons of Mr. Brooks are heard, lies in the perfect freshness and naturalness of the expression in which he inculcates the truth of the New Testament. Who that is thirsty does not prefer a mountain stream to a rain cistern? It might be profitable for many a minister to examine his own prayers and sermons for a single Sunday, and see what amount of phraseology there is in them which, though it might have been telling in Solomon's temple, or Calvin's Institutes, or in the mouth of one of Cromwell's chaplains, falls dead on the ear of living men to-day. Artificial elegance, let me add, weakens the influence of truth, not less than cant. No kind of food cloys so soon as confectionery. Although it is not well for preachers generally to stuff their sermons with anecdotes, no one should disdain to introduce an illustration, however homely in its incidents, which really elucidates or recommends his doctrine. 3. We are furnished with a proof that the people are still deeply interested in religion. - We may discount all that is due to mere curiosity in bringing men together to hear Mr. Moody; it remains true that multitudes, of every grade of intelligence, both in this country and in Great Britain, have thronged his meetings under the impulse of a deeper feeling. This may not be a conspicuously religious era. The mind of the community is not absorbed, as at some past epochs, in religious meditations and controversies. There is a zeal for knowledge in the secular sphere. Politics and busiJess engross the attention of many. But we may rest assured that these great themes-life, death, and immortality have not lost their power to stir the soul. The problems of religion are still felt to be of the deepest moment. The question"What shall I do to be saved?"—is silently asked by thousands, who never make it audible; and if a preacher appears who is somehow felt to have the secret of the Gospel, and to be able to help others to a satisfactory solution of this practical question, men will go to hear him. It is interesting to see how a feeling, latent, it may be, or half-smothered in the hearts of thousands, is called forth by the presence of an earnest messenger of the Gospel. The sense of the supernatural, the craving for that which will satisfy the soul, the consciousness of sin, the fear of death these experiences are rife, more or less, in every heart. The interest of the community in religion is not dying out. That interest may not always be expressed in the old ways; nevertheless, it abides. 4. The question is brought before us: How shall the mass of the people be brought to frequent our churches? In our large towns the rich and the poor do not worship together. Much noble Christian work is done through mission schools and chapels. But the poor and uninstructed classes, as far as they are reached by efforts of this kind, are gathered by themselves in separate assemblies. Another fact is, that a great number of the laboring class, who would not be reckoned among the objects of missionary effort, and who do not lack intelligence, do not feel at home in our churches. Where the pews are elegantly furnished and rented at a high price, where fine carriages stand at the door, and where the bulk of the congregation appear in showy and expensive apparel, the reluctance of the class to which I refer to attend worship, may be naturally accounted for. But where these circumstances do not exist to repel their attendance by the tax which that attendance would impose, or by the diffidence or envy which stand in the way of it, it is still, I believe, the fact that numbers who would go to a "tabernacle," or a public hall, to hear an earnest preacher, cannot be enticed into a church. Explain it as we may, we are bound to take this fact into consideration in our efforts to do good. It has occurred to me that we need not confine our preaching services so closely to the houses dedicated to religious worship; that, in large towns, it would be well to have sermons delivered at different centers, in halls and other places of assembly, and to seek to rally the people to these meetings by giving them a character more informal, and more resembling political gatherings and the lectures to which they are accustomed. The Methodist camp meeting, perhaps, in the older portions of the country, may have outlived its usefulness. But possibly we may take a hint from what has been accomplished by such meetings in the past. I will only add, under this head, that the Protestant religion is never free from the danger of losing its hold upon the common people. It has no pomp of ritual to charm the senses. It is a thoughtful religion, and one that requires thought. When the earnestness of evangelical feeling declines, it may be reduced to the rank of a religion for the educated classes; if, indeed, they do not fall into skepticism, or convert the church into a school for the debate of questions of religion and philosophy. 5. The desirableness and feasibleness of Christian union. If there be any one who regards the rival sects into which. Protestant Christianity has long been split up as a blessing, and as agreeable to the desire and design of Christ when He founded the visible church, my difference from him is too radical to be adjusted by a discussion of the subject on the present occasion. At the same time, the abolition of the sect system, under which Christians devote a portion of their energy to the kingdom of Christ, and another portion to the furtherance of a party, must be the work of time and of Providence, and cannot be hastened by artificial combinations and compromises. We hail with joy all the indications of a work of Providence in this direction. A few years ago, we saw, at the meetings of the Evangelical Alliance in New York, leading representatives of the great Arminian and great Calvinistic bodies, sitting side by side, day after day, and discussing, without a discordant note, the principles of the gospel and the work of the church. At no time within the last three centuries, until now, would such a spectacle have been possible. At Mr. Moody's meetings, we have seen Congregationalists, and Episcopalians, and Methodists, and Baptists, uniting, for weeks together, in the work of teaching the gospel to the people, and in the guidance of inquirers; able to do all this without jostling each other. They have demonstrated to one another that their points of difference are diminutive compared with the points of agreement. In the magnitude of the common cause, the separate, sectarian interest dwindles to nothing. I may be permitted to state here, that in New Haven the different denominations, some twenty churches in all, are combining in systematic efforts for the relief and instruction of the poor and neglected classes. Instead of laboring apart from one another in this most important branch of the church's work, the denominations are forming a kind of coöperative union. I believe that the day will come- it may be distant, but it is approaching - when the popular defences of the sect system, the familiar apologies for sectarian divisions, will be regarded as we now regard the old-fashioned defences of slavery out of the Bible. Sectarian leaders may continue to beat their war-drums, and contend for the doctrine that Christians dwelling in the same towns and villages, ought to be |