limited, where the movement consists in simply drifting listlessly down the stream, and the idea of a mental and moral gymnastic is exchanged for that of tame submission to the force of circumstances. Yet, without a clear view of what shape and course that later, freer education should assume, and without a strong sense of our risks and responsibilities with regard to it, that is the poor, wretched changeling that will inevitably take the place of the rightful owner, and oust him from his seat; that will be the poor, starved, meagre fruit of all those precious years. The education whose materials and methods we are considering, must be systematic and intelligently directed, like the education in the school and in the university. The work of self-culture and discipline must be felt and dealt with as a grave, earnest work, built up and constructed on broad and well-marked lines, and carried out with clear head and resolute purpose. I would desire to mark this with special emphasis, and press it upon your attention with special earnestness, because I feel that I am here laying my finger upon one of the weakest points of our ecclesiastical system, and upon one of the most formidable dangers of our ministerial life; because I believe that, humanly speaking, we have here the most clamant want of our age and Church-the surest remedy of our ecclesiastical evils. For in addition to the tendencies rooted in human nature, and the influences inseparable from human life (and therefore common to all Churches and all positions), which engender and foster a spirit of indolence, and mechanical, perfunctory discharge of duty, lowering the tone of enthusiasm and the ideal of professional excellence, there are certain temptations and certain circumstances which in our case render fidelity to our grand ideal specially difficult, and at the same time specially imperative. If, amid the universal rise of the educational level, the increasing advance of the scientific spirit, the growth of the aesthetic cravings, the competition of Churches, and the ever-deepening complexities of the problems of modern life, our Church recognises the day of its visitation, and our ministers gird themselves up like men to grapple with and overcome the difficulties of that arduous and inspiring work, the weapons, under God, must be sought in the armoury of such a lofty, many-sided, all-pervading culture; and the victory must be won by soldiers who have subjected all their powers and energies to this stern, patient, varied discipline. I believe that on the recognition and fulfilment, or the ignoring and neglect, of this God-imposed condition, depends, humanly speaking, the success or failure, the growth or decay, of all ecclesiastical agencies. . . . The work of the ministry stands out pre-eminent above all others in this that it calls into play every part of our complex human nature-that whatever enriches and enlarges our humanity, whatever ennobles and invigorates the man, contributes directly to the efficiency of the minister. It seems to me that the ideal of the perfect minister would just be the perfectly developed Christian man; and that in proportion as this development is universal and complete, will the reality approach the ideal. I do not say there may not be infinite degrees of excellence far short of this perfection; but every defect or disproportion in this development marks a lower stage, and so far impairs the efficiency. Every step of progress towards that harmonious balance and noblest cultivation of all the powers, adds to the capital and motive-power through which the minister works his work and produces his results. That ministerial capital and material is, let us remember, no mere dexterity or accumulation of dexterities, no sums of acquired facilities, no single gift or aggregate of gifts, however distinguished or great: not in these, but in the man himself,-in the whole contents and impetus and spirit of the man-in the intellectual mass and force, in the moral tone and fibre, in the spiritual life and elevation of the man-in the fine balance and harmonious proportions of this rich, complex, many-sided whole. Remember what the office of the Christian ministry is, and what the mission of the Christian minister implies. You cannot set that ideal higher than God has set it, or than its own nature and duties set it. You cannot unduly magnify your office. You may degrade and vulgarise it by your partial and perverted conceptions of it, or by your one-sided and unworthy presentation of it. That is easily done; and many are but too successful in dragging it down to a low level, and distorting its noble features into a mean and ghastly caricature. But the true idea still remains unviolated and inviolable: a lofty inapproachable object for the strongest and the bravest to strive after—a veritable something to occupy the powers and fill the capacities of the most ambitious. Whether you take into account the themes with which he has to deal, or the work he has to do; whether you have regard to the sphere in which he is called to move, or the motives and aims that should furnish the propelling and regulative forces of all his action,-it comes to the same. He, and he alone, by the very necessity of his postion, is brought into contact with man and life in the noblest relations and most sacred associations. He, and he alone, has, as the one occupation and duty of his life, to devote himself to objects and carry out a work which appeal to all the highest elements of our nature, and afford free play and ample exercise to all its loftiest powers. He has, by virtue, or rather by the beneficent compulsion, of his profession, to occupy himself earnestly and continually with such themes as,-the duties and destinies and hopes of man-the nature, working, and purposes of God-the mysteries and problems of existence-the means of lessening the sorrow and sin and moral corruption of the world, and of building up the ruins and healing the sicknesses of humanity. He has to flood his own mind with all the light on these problems and objects which revelation, or history, or experience, or reason can shed. He has to gather up into his own heart all the varied influences which combine to give wisdom, love, and skill in interpreting these truths and applying these principles. He has to make a patient, large, loving study of the hard problems of life, the sad maladies of humanity, the wants and dangers of society, on the one hand-as well as of the healing powers at work, the divine remedies provided, the message of hope to be made known, on the other. Knowledge of every kind-knowledge that is acquired in the pages of books, in the society of men, in the scenes of life, and in the school of experience-is all needed. It cannot be too varied or too profound. He must not only know But fullest, clearest knowledge is not enough. what the problem is, with all its conditions and bearings. He must not only know where the key is to be sought and found, how to distinguish it from all the plausible counterfeits, and how to fit it into the wards of the lock, so as to open the door of the secret place. That is not enough; for that of itself will never supply tact, wise insight, clear-eyed sympathy, personal influence, and spiritual power. Yet without these no man can act effectively or successfully as the interpreter of God, as guide and teacher of his felllow-men, as prophet of truth and physician of souls. His spiritual dynamics must have their source and root in his own character, and his own inner stores of light and life. He must bring to task a fully developed, a carefully cultivated, a richly complex personality, thoroughly penetrated with light, strongly throbbing with life, sweetened and purified by love, and overflowing with living forces. If he is to interpret God to man, he must touch both God and man. If he is to be a conductor to any soul or any society of the quickening, restoring influences which have their source in God and their object in man, he J must transmit them through the medium of a nature that is itself charged with these influences, and thrilling with these currents of spiritual vitality. If, like the old Jewish prophet, our prophets of modern times, the messengers of God, are to warm cold hearts and awaken dormant natures to life, they, like Elisha, must, so to speak, stretch themselves at full length upon the lifeless body, touching it at every point, and quicken the feeble spark that still lingers in the dying frame, by infusing through each part the glow of their own fervid nature. I do not know of any other sure specific. If you want to give light, you must first have light. If you would kindle life, you must first possess life. If you would communicate moral and spiritual impulses, you must first gather these impulses into yourselves. If you would exercise effectively the arduous functions of the Christian ministry, it must be not merely by enouncing valuable truth, diffusing accurate knowledge, employing wise methods, and setting in motion skilful machinery, but by the power of truths that have been appropriated and incorporated; by the attraction of a spirit that has entered into and impregnated the very blood and texture of your being; by the influence of a life that is itself fed continuously by secret, unfailing springs of life. These are the bare, bald outlines of what the Christian ministry is in its divine ideal. And now, looking to this sketch of the work and mission of the Christian minister, it is easy to infer, at least generally, what the nature and spirit of the later, freer, larger training, of which we treat ought to be. It must not be one-sided, special, or narrow, but many-sided, universal, and broad. It must be broad with the breadth of human nature, and large with the largeness of the ministerial mission. It must address itself to mind, heart, and soul, and seek to develop the powers and provide fitting exercise to the highest energies and noblest faculties of each. And yet, at the same time, it must ever seek to accomplish this in wise proportion, observing and maintaining the rightful relation between the various elements, and working in due subordination to the religious interests and divine ends of the Christian ministry. With all its multiplicity and complexity, therefore, it will not be a mere aggregate of co-ordinate or detached efforts, but an organic whole, with a corporate life, a harmonious gradation of parts, and a clear definite plan. details of that scheme will vary with the outward circumstances, the individual idiosyncrasies, and the special ambitions of each; but the diversity of detail will only emphasise and illustrate the unity of spirit and purpose. The Another feature common to every variety will be its multiplicity of sources and its catholicity of spirit. Just as its objects are manifold, and its sphere of action commensurate with our entire nature, so heaven and earth, the olden times and modern days, the written or printed records of books and the unwritten experience of life, the revelations of God and the gropings and conjectures of man, the pictured pages of Nature and the faint utterances of the inner guide, must all be laid under contribution and pressed into the service. Wherever a ray shines, it will be admitted to increase the sum of light. Wherever a wise, earnest voice speaks, dispelling doubt and increasing knowledge and hope, there will be silent, eager attention. Wherever a stream of pure and holy influence flows, there will be tarrying by the brink and drinking of the waters. Wherever there is a teacher sent from God, there will be a reverent sitting at his feet and a drinking in of his words. And yet here again there will be the necessary distinction made, the due balance maintained. We must forego some things, though it be with a pang, for the sake of still more indispensable gains. Human weakness, and fear of a shallow superficiality that is fatal to all power, must set very definite limits to our efforts and attainments. We must pick and choose-hold fast and reject. For, though all truth is precious, yet all truth is not equally precious and equally attainable; and the wise man will carefully discriminate. He will value and divide his energies between the various departments of truth, with careful regard both to their intrinsic importance, their practicability, and their place in the scheme of his life's great work. Again, the whole spirit and aim of this self-discipline must be practical, -not in the lower utilitarian sense of yielding immediate returns in the base coinage of popularity, dexterity, or worldly success, but in the higher sense of contributing to the great objects of our divine calling--to the formation of a nobler, stronger, and more richly complex character-to the building up and ripening of a wide-minded, large-hearted, eagersouled personality-to the increase of the vital energy, and the perfecting of the instruments through which we accomplish our mission. That condition will exert its pressure on the whole fabric of this training. It will lead to the rejection, or at least to the setting in the background, of certain elements which might otherwise claim and acquire an undue prominence; to the right appreciation and cultivation of elements which were in danger of being overlooked and undervalued; to the exercise of a large, hopeful, wise patience, which remembers how gradually great results are ever brought about, which is content to lay the foundations |