which he belongs. That is, he may be dismissed with his absolute consent, or with his conditional consent. For by accepting the position he has given consent to the laws which regulate that position, and consequently to his own removal according to those laws. He has, nevertheless, a right to call on the civil tribunals to enquire whether those laws have been observed. But they are not to try the case over again, or to act as courts of appeal from the decision of the ecclesiastical court. The duty of the civil court is to see that the ecclesiastical court had, according to the ecclesiastical laws, jurisdiction over the case, and proceeded fairly according to those laws. These are the principles upon which American courts have generally acted. They were fully recognized by the courts of the State. of New York, in the case of Walker against Wainright; which was the most remarkable one connected with this subject, that has occurred in America.

There is a sort of converse case to this, which deserves some consideration. It is when a clergyman, who has been degraded by an ecclesiastical sentence, retains possession of tangible property belonging to the Church, of which he acquired possession in the character of one of her ministers. A question may arise how he is to be removed from the property. The Church is in herself powerless, and the matter is clearly within the jurisdiction of the State. Ought the State to render her aid to the Church, and on what terms? A case occurred many years ago, in Maryland, in which these questions came up. The court was divided, and so nothing was done. There were but two judges on the bench. One of them was in favour of interfering. The other was an ultra anti-State-Church-man, who considered that the Church and all religious bodies ought to be ignored by the State and the law. But it is absurd for either, or in fact for any person, whether natural or artificial, to ignore known facts. The Church exists, and is a known society, just as much as the Odd Fellows. It is, therefore, entitled to the protection of the State and the law, just as much as any other society. It would be considered very strange if a lodge of Odd Fellows were told that they could have no legal redress against one of their officers who had appropriated their property to his own use, because there was in this country no alli

ance between the State and the Independent Order of Odd Fellows. In fact if the principle, that the State may interfere to protect the rights of clergymen connected with their ecclesiastical position be admitted, it can scarcely be denied that she may interfere to protect the rights of the Church from those who have been her officers. The idea of such protection is involved in that of the Church being possessed of civil rights. The Church may then seek such protection without compromising in any way her just independence, and may submit to the degree of control involved in proceedings grounded upon the converse principle. But if she go further, there is danger of her being involved in an entangling alliance; the consequences of which cannot be foreseen. Of such an alliance it may be said that all experience shows that it is full of mischief for her; for which the only possible compensation is money. Even of this, there is less than is commonly supposed. In England, for instance, much of the wealth of the Church was derived from the voluntary gifts of her members. An appreciable proportion of these gifts have been given within a very few years. Yet the State openly regards the whole as her gift. It would be more accurate to say did regard the whole as her gift. That was once the theory. At present the notion is that the whole property of the Church belongs to the State and is only appropri ated by her during her pleasure, to certain objects, which she, for the present, thinks so far expedient as to be worthy objects of her bounty. The truth being, that the State, at the Reformation, paid herself for all the property which she had ever given to the Church, and not resumed, by seizing a much greater amount of that which had not been given by her. Nevertheless, difficulties would arise for the Church from the loss of her endowment. The certainty of such loss in case of a rup ture with the State, which wields the physical force of the country, and has an undoubted authority over material things, may, therefore, be a sufficient reason why the Church of England should not hastily dissolve her connection with her oppressive partner. But there can be no reason why a Church which has achieved her independence, or as is perhaps more true of the American Church, has had it forced upon her, should desire any connection whatever with the powers of this world.

But while we have no reason to court an alliance with the State, and ought to avoid every semblance of so doing, we have no reason to dread her power. In fact, the dread of interfering with religious liberty is so powerful in this country that aggression on the rights of the Church is not likely to be attempted; unless in the negative form of refusing to aid her in the enforcement of her laws when they affect, indirectly, the possession of material things. And even this case is not very likely to occur, owing in part to the smallness of Church endowments, and in part to other causes, which it would take up too much space to explain. But there is undoubtedly, in the Church, a morbid fear of collision. It is perhaps combined with a morbid fear of public opinion, both that of the members of the Church and that of the world outside.

This fear or these fears, paralyze the action of the Church in her undoubted office of settling disputed points of morality. The assertion, in a judicious and moderate way, of this right would have an effect, more or less important upon the formation of public opinion itself. If the Church be the teacher of the world, and if the moral law be a part of Christianity, it follows that this is a part of her office. In England she has long been restrained, by the temporal power, from the exercise of this office; and we have inherited a dread of such action, as we have inherited the glorious inheritance of English theology, and many great deficiencies in Ecclesiastical Polity and Ecclesiastical Law from our venerable mother.

It is probably too soon to expect any immediate action in the direction which has been suggested; but it will never be time to act in that or any other direction until principles have been settled in men's minds. We are, in this country, too little accustomed to think of any matters which are not pressing themselves on the attention of the individual. Those are generally things connected with the temporal well-being of the individual. But it is to be hoped that this state of things will not always continue; and that a time may come when the members of the Church will have time to think of the great principles, with which she, and consequently they, are continually in contact, and which must therefore affect her well-being.

H. D. E.

PILATE AND THE PENITENT.

“I had rather do right than be President," was an heroic and noble sentiment. It was the utterance of the very heart of Patriotism, which can never, through corruption, barter its own and its country's integrity, for the spoils of party. It seems to have been an echo, in recent times, of the words of that son of Freedom who said, "Give me liberty, or give me death." It declares in words what was sublimely enacted by him, who, having achieved the liberties of his country, disdained a kingly crown; gave back untarnished the sword which had been entrusted to his hands; and rather retired into private life, there to reap, in common with his fellow countrymen, the blessings of peace. That nobility which scorns the wrong, and that heroism which dares the right, herein set forth with such power, were also in like manner proclaimed by him who, while others were threatening to rend the Union, and to march off under the banner of political schism, took his stand beneath the flag of the Union; planted his feet upon the Constitution of his country; and, pointing to the pillars of the Senate Chamber, declared,

"These columns fly

From their firm base as soon as I."

All this seems to have been acting out, in moral grandeur in the sphere of the State, that principle of fearless obedience to right and duty, which, by our GREAT CAPTAIN was so emphatically enjoined on us as soldiers of the Cross, when He said, "Fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul; but rather fear HIM which is able to destroy both soul and body in hell." These actions, in temporal matters, are fairly worthy to stand side by side with that magnificent action of the Apos tles, who, when summoned as culprits before the august senate of their nation, appealed to Heaven and said, "We ought to obey GOD rather than men. The GOD of our fathers raised up JESUS, whom ye slew and hanged on a tree: Him hath GOD exalted with His own right hand, to be a PRINCE and SAVIOUR, to give repentance to Israel, and forgiveness of sins. And we are wit nesses of these things; and so is also the HOLY GHOST, whom GOD hath given to them that obey HIM."

How just and noble is all this heroism, both Christian and patriotic, compared with that cringing cowardice, and sycophantic subserviency to popular caprice and passion, which doomed Pontius Pilate to perpetual infamy. JESUS stood before him an innocent man. According to his own boast, he had power to crucify Him, and had power to release Him. His innocence was to him as clear as the noonday: he had, therefore, only to speak the word, and his prisoner would go free. And the few drops of Roman principle and of Roman honour which still lingered in his veins, prompted him to be the advocate of the meek prisoner, whom the known envy and malice of the Jews had delivered into his hands. Moved also by the entreaties of his wife, who had suffered many things in dreams on His account; and also by the Divinity which breathed in the words, and traced its lineaments in the features of his prisoner, he was afraid, and was determined to let Him go. But soon he vascillates, and in his weak and servile heart the fear of man triumphs over the fear of GOD.

Roman governors at all times stood in danger of being accused at the tribunal of Cæsar, and of being degraded from their office. Pilate himself was well enough versed in the intriguing spirit of his times, to know that the malice of the Jews would stop at nothing for his ruin, should he refuse them their own will and way in this matter. Several, then, were the expedients which he tried for working himself out of his perplexing position. But no sooner was he out of one difficulty than the Jews entangled him in another. At last their exasperation rose to such a pitch that they dared even to threaten Pilate with an accusation at Rome, should he fail to comply with their demand for the crucifixion of JESUS. If thou let this man go,' was their significant menace- If thou let this man go, thou art not Cæsar's friend." This man assumes to be our king, while we have no king but Cæsar. Crucify Him, then, or we will accuse you to Cæsar, and bring you down from your office. Had Pilate but had the greatness of soul to declare, “I had rather do right than be Roman governor," then had his name been inscribed high and glorious on the monuments of human history, and shone forever as a star in the everlasting kingdom of GOD's dear SON. But, daunted by the impotent breath of man,