and beads, and Latin Buddhism? Nor much less anxious is the intermediate question, To whose side shall England lend her strength and patronage? to the Manchoo Bourbons, whose cause is espoused by so many of our British residents; or to the insurgents, who destroy the images and keep the Sabbath; who have taken the Ten Commandments for their code, and whose creed includes some of the most conspicuous truths of Christianity?

A ROYAL ROAD TO VISIBILITY.

DR. CUNNINGHAM, at the last meeting of Synod, laid it down as the present duty of the English Presbyterian Church to aim at becoming visible. The remark, which is characterised by the usual clear-headedness of the learned Professor, has excited attention. It is, indeed, a definite embodiment of the aspirations which have long existed, deeply and widely, among the members of the Church. We accept the phrase therefore. It admirably expresses our ardent wishes. We want to become visible. We have been long crying out impatiently for this. Every question which has been discussed has been viewed by most of us in relation to the question of visibility, and, if it had no bearing in this direction, it only made us chafe and fret more impatiently, and cry out the more earnestly, "Let us first become visible." If any one proposed a law-however many good purposes it was to serve-wait a little, we said, let us first buy the horse, the building of the stable will be an afterconsideration. If any one proposed introducing a change for the purpose of smoothing matters somewhat-wait a little, said we, let us complete the copy first, the labor linæ can come afterward. If any one introduced an overture, proposing to tie up the Presbyteries lest they should start improper charges let us first obtain the stream, said we, we can dam up the banks when the waters begin to overflow. And so, whether those who are fond of talking at the Synod have been able to recognise it or not, this, they may rest assured, has been the test which the strength of the Church has applied to all their

movements.

No one will say that there is anything wrong or questionable in this spirit. It is not necessarily even a sectarian spirit. Why do we wish the Church extended, but because we are taught to labour and to pray for the extension of Christ's kingdom? And so long as there is an open field-so long as there is room without encroaching on others, a Church extension mania is simply a matter of obvious duty. Only the sternest condemnation can be pronounced on any other spirit than this, if we judge according to New Testament principles. The Church, or the individual, who is content to go to heaven alone, will meet with little sympathy-and deservedly. We have a right to call in question the Christianity of such, and only one verdict will be pronounced either that they are already dead, or on the high road to death. We, as a Church, cannot be exempt from the same laws which govern all Christian life. We must accept the condition of our very existence. We must accept, or honestly confess, that we are a few sojourners in a strange land, waiting till the compassionate hearts of our fellowcountrymen recall us from exile.

We presume all this is generally acknowledged. But here is the rub. To become visible will involve an unknown extent of labour and pains. An amount of zeal, self-sacrifice, and perseverance, appalling to think of, will be necessary to the prosecution of the task. Our flesh looks at the prospect with dread. It will be literally crucified in such an undertaking. "Give

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us peace in our time," it cries; "a little more sleep and a little more slumber." Could any other plan be devised for attaining this goal without being under the necessity of travelling a path so hard and difficult? no royal road, no "short cut," anywhere to be found? Eureka! We have it. Not more gladly did the ten thousand shout, "Thalassa!" when they caught the first glimpse of the sea, than we that such a happy idea has been conceived. We can hardly refrain from shouting with the Methodist when the preacher says a good thing, Glory! The plan is so good, so simple, so exquisite. We have, in England, at least a hundred congregations. There are, on the same soil, nearly as many belonging to the United Presbyterian Church. Let us take these into our communion, let us pull down their standard and erect ours instead, and the work is done-completed-a plished. Any further efforts towards visibility will be easy exceedingly. With a hundred energetic Presbyterian ministers, more than half the burden will be taken off our backs. Then let the work be done, and the glory will be ours. We have only to add to this magnificent idea another equally good. Besides the Presbyterian Churches in England, properly so called, there is a huge Presbyterian Church in Wales. There cannot be a doubt of it. With local peculiarities, which are proper enough in their place, their constitution is ours, as their creed is Calvinistic. The conclusion is inevitable. Having swallowed the English United Presbyterians in a twelvemonth or so, we shall be ready for a larger effort the year following. Why not? The Welsh Church may be very proud of the compliment paid her. Of course, it cannot hesitate for a moment to submit to the operation. The thing is as good as done. And thus our hard task is compassed with the utmost ease. We become in this way visible, with hardly an effort. No self-denial, no disagreeable toils, nor painful sacrifices, are at all necessary. It is a scheme on wheels; it is destined to run on all fours; almost at one leap is the gulf crossed. Who will deny that it is exceedingly clever? Is there any one so stupid as to hint an objection or a difficulty, this mythic individual should be sent to Coventry forthwith. Why should a plan so exquisite be marred by the unreasonable objections of a blundering blockhead? So, nevertheless, let us run all risks for a little. In the first place, no man, or body of men, has a right to success unless he deserves it; and, as a rule, only they who deserve success meet with it. Can we pretend that we deserve all this success? We trow not. Church extension has been among us a provokingly slow process. There is not so much as a building fund. While there are a thousand open doors, and even many applicants, to one and all we turn the cold shoulder. We illustrate most admirably the adage which tells us that the wisdom of age is the folly of youth. We see so many difficulties in the way. There is already a Church within fifty miles of the contemplated locality, and that Church would suffer a most serious diminution! There would be, of necessity, a church to build; and who will undertake the task? For years, mayhap, it would have to be supplemented by Home Mission Funds; and we have burdens enough of that character already! The Presbyteries are literally oppressed with work already, as any one may see by reading their minutes; and how can they undertake anything more? The churches we have already are far from full, and will building churches fifty miles distant help them? The old-fashioned tools with which our fathers toiled faith and prayer-don't seem at all suited to the work of church extension. And so the energy of the Church languishes and dies. True, some efforts have been made. The Home Mission has had a fashion of preaching in every report of the duty of carrying the Gospel. to the lapsed masses, but there are few

congregations that owe their existence to the labours of that Committee. There have been new charges planted, indeed; but who planted them? A few earnest Presbyterians gathered themselves together, formed themselves into a committee, and petitioned some Presbytery for ordinances. The Presbytery eventually ordains some one over them, consisting by this time of some forty or fifty individuals, and he is henceforth left to sink or to swim. There is then a church to build-everything to do. The man either builds a church or he does not. Say he does not. He breaks down in the midst of his terrible task, and he professionally dies. He has failed, and the chances are a thousand to one he will never be permitted to fail again. Or, say he succeeds. What then? When his task is accomplished he is done. The last spark of energy has been worn out of him. His congregation, harassed by perpetual difficulties, sinking under perpetual discouragements, worn out by perpetual givings-givings from which no satisfactory result seems to arise-terrified by the prospect of perpetual debt, dwindles down to a handful; and nobody will join a falling cause. The minister has nothing for it, at the close of his labours, but to take up his staff, poorer in body, mind, and estate, than when he began, and set out to pioneer in the backwoods of Canada or Australia. That is church extension, as it is understood among us. And where, we ask, is the wisdom, the policy, the mercy of such a course? Every such congregation will take half-a-century to recover itself, and its early blight will be felt even then. Look round about us, and see if there be any other denomination so foolish. What have the Independents been doing before our eyes in the metropolis here for the last twenty years? Though they have no organisation to boast of, yet, by the help of a society, they have been successfully and rapidly multiplying their charges. And by what a simple and common-sense process have they accomplished their task! They first survey a neighbourhood, and find it a likely place for a chapel. This point ascertained, the next step is to build the house. The house being built, they send a succession of able and popular ministers, and the place is filled at once. At last, one makes his appearance who is acceptable to the bulk of the people, and he settles down in a comfortable sphere, and all he has to do is to organise. That congregation, even if the place of worship be presented to it free of debt, will in a few years return the whole gift in the shape of liberal contributions to every Christian object. How different is all this from our cautious, wary procedure. It is only after the iron cools that we begin to strike. Nor can we ascribe the difference of result to denominational peculiarities, by saying that it is easier for other bodies to raise congregations than for us. One of our own members has made the experiment on a small scale; and though doubtless it would be easy to find fault with details, yet the fact remains, that, despite these faults, the result has been the same-the church has been almost filled as soon as built, and prosperous from the first, proving that the denominational question hardly exerts any influence, and that we might build as fast and as successfully as others.

We repeat, therefore, we have not hitherto deserved success. There is nothing about us to tempt any other party to join us. If we increase at the rate of twenty or thirty congregations a-year, there would be no necessity for our going a begging to any Church, Scottish or Welsh, for a few of their congregations to swell our numbers. The begging would be all the other way, and then union would become possible and easy.

Moreover, this is the path to union. It is a mere waste of time and strength to discuss the matter in any other way. We are willing and ready to unite with all who will unite with us, but the United Presbyterians

do not appear to desire it, and our entreating them will not induce this desire.

What other conclusion, then, can we come to, but that this royal road, like all royal roads, is a mistake. Dr. Cunningham gave us a piece of sound and sensible advice when he told us we must strive to become visible; but in no other way can this desirable result be attained, and our duty fulfilled, save by the old-fashioned dusty highway of toil and sacrifice. Who, then, is there that will take the matter up? We despair of Church-courts. All that is wanted is two or three energetic individuals to form themselves into a society, and to solicit subscriptions, and we are quite sure that there would be found at least five or six hundred members of the Church who would become annual subscribers to a small extent. And thus we should have a beginning; that is all that is needed. It would immediately prosper, and would work of itself, since every church they built would furnish fresh subscribers, not merely to this but to all our schemes.

Until something like this is done, Dr. Cunningham's advice is heedlessly thrown to the winds.

THE POSITION AND WORK OF THE SABBATH-SCHOOL TEACHER.*

It was a happy idea that originated the meeting of to-night. On the part of the office-bearers of the Church, it is an acknowledgment of the debt of gratitude we owe our teachers-an expression of our sympathy and readiness to help them in the work. It is a recognition of the important place they occupy in the field of evangelistic effort. We are told when a foreign visitor came to Jerusalem, long ago, that he admired, amongst its other wonders, the way by which the King went up to the Temple. Such is the relation of the Sabbath-school to the Church -it is the ascent to the Temple; and sure I am that a well-conducted Sabbathschool is a finer sight than the royal viaduct of Jerusalem in the days of Solomon. Yours is a high and honourable place, though it is not one to which you are formally chosen or set apart, or to which you have publicly pledged yourselves by solemn vows. We hail you as volunteers in the ranks of Christian service. We give you frank and friendly greeting. We bless you in the name of the Lord. Our heart," like that of the patriot prophetess of Mount Ephraim, is "towards those in Israel who offered themselves willingly among the people."

In what I have to say I take this for granted-that it is out of love to the Master that you have enlisted in this work, from a desire to advance an object dear to his heart, one vitally connected with the existence and perpetuity of his Church, "showing to the generation to come the praises of the Lord, and his strength, and the wonderful works that he hath done."

These are touching words of His to the restored apostle, "Feed my lambs;" and the thought that it was in this way he charged Peter to prove the sincerity and depth of his love to himself, lifts this duty to the level of apostolic servicesets it in a very tender and sacred light. It is a work that has its difficulties-I know none that is a harder trial of faith and patience-one that must be so loved for its own sake if we would persevere, and not give it up as hopeless. John Foster, in his essay on Popular Ignorance, speaking of the difficulty of getting at the hearts of people, takes the case of a minister addressing a dull and listless audience, it may be a stolid, somnolent country congregation. By some happy illustration he perceives, to his great delight, that he has succeeded in arresting their attention. All eyes are fixed on him; it is clear they understand him, and

Address delivered at the Conference of Sabbath School Teachers, and others, at Radley's Hotel, London, June 12, 1860, by the Rev. J. D. Burns, of Hampstead.

feel what he says; when suddenly a hat falls from a peg, and an accident so trivial is enough to draw their thoughts into another channel, and neutralise the impression. All who have had any experience in dealing with children must sympathise in the feeling of disappointment that sends a chill to his heart. Unstable as water, their minds are so fluctuating, so volatile, ruffled by every passing breath of air; but on these waters the good seed is to be cast in dependence on the promise, "Thou shalt find it after many days."

Once granted that the work is good, and that you have a right and genuine motive in doing it, it would be right to persevere even in the most unlikely and disheartening circumstances. If you had but the hope that, in after years, some seed of truth was to sprout, and grow, and ripen, though you might never see it ; that some word of yours was to remain in the young spirit as a germ of some good thing towards the God of Israel; that in some heart there was to be a kind and hallowed remembrance of you when you were in the dust—this should be enough to sustain and animate you amid present discouragements.

But surely we are entitled to take higher ground-to say that, if ever the Master was looking with a kind eye, and speaking a cheering word to his servants to take away their weariness in well-doing, it is now. The time is propitious. There are hopeful signs in the spiritual heavens. If we have wisdom to discern the face of the sky, we say, "It will be fair weather, for the sky is red." An auspicious sowing-time. We hear on all sides how this gracious visitation has reached, and stirred, and savingly influenced the hearts of the young; how the children, the boys and girls that we see round us playing in the streets of Jerusalem, are singing Hosannahs in the temple-surely there is a call for increased earnestness to take advantage of this increased susceptibility, for prayer and labour, not only in the hopefulness that the fact of the promise inspires, but in the assurance that its fulfilment warrants, "I will pour my Spirit upon thy seed, and my blessing upon thine offspring." How touching an incident is that of the fisherboys at Eyemouth being found holding prayer-meetings, in the dark winter nights, under the boats drawn up on the shore.

A few days ago, I had an opportunity of hearing a prayer that made as deep an impression on my mind as any prayer I ever heard. I was visiting a dying girl, an inmate of a reformatory. There was a sound of voices in an adjoining room. The matron told me some of the girls had gone there and were praying among themselves. I could not help going quietly up to the door to listen. One of these children was praying for herself and her companions kneeling round her, pouring out her heart to God in her own simple, trembling, earnest words. I was very deeply moved by it. The girl who was praying was, a few months ago, a thief in the streets of London; and the others, all initiated, or rather graduated, in crime, had been sent to this reformatory, after conviction, under the sentence of a magistrate. There had been no attempt to work upon their feelings, or get up a special and spasmodic kind of excitement about religion; there was nothing different from the ordinary routine of religious instruction. The only way of accounting for it was, that God's Spirit had been there; the tidal wave of blessing had washed up into this sheltered creek; the breath of a new life had been passing over them, and drawing from their lips the first articulate words of the new creature in prayer.

We have reason to believe this is not uncommon. If not, how much does this imply? What a marvellous and instantaneous change! It is as if we were brought face to face with a new state of things; a time when promise is visibly passing into performance-God's recorded word standing forth in his accomplished deed. How often have we prayed as if we were wresting the gift of grace from a reluctant hand; as if He might give it with upbraiding. Those fears and suspicions, this slowness of heart to believe, are rebuked now. He has overcome our evil with good. It is as if God were giving us a glimpse of the blessing through the opening windows of heaven. Let us give heed, "expecting to receive." We see the gathering rain-clouds, we hear the sound of the rushing showers. If we are not faithless, but believing; if we have understanding of the times to know what Israel ought to do-praying out our faith, acting out our faith-it will not be long till the Spirit is poured out, falling in refreshing showers on our congregations,