praises of God? Which has least in it of earth and most of heaven? Which is most consistent with the appropriate employment of their Sabbaths? Which most conduces to their growth in grace and preparation for a part among the choral ranks of heaven? The church that demands anything else of the choir than this is a tempter to evil. The choir that consents to anything but this, yields to the degradation of its office. It follows from what is now asserted that the choir must ac commodate itself to the ability of the people, and also aim by the gradual introduction of new music to cultivate and educate the people in this part of worship. Let familiar tunes be sung, and let all the talents and skill of the choir be bent upon the proper rendering of them. Choirs forget that the merit of their singing does not depend upon the novelty of the tune, but upon the proper performance of it. A familiar harmony can be better sung than an unfamiliar. The mind is not so much detained in the reading, but goes freely forth in the execution. By such perfection of art exercised upon familiar music, the tasteful character that decency demands may be preserved to the service of song. That it is practicable to introduce a combination of choir and congregational music as shall please the ear, and satisfy the artist, and yet secure the end of worship, is provided by the unanswerable logic of facts. In our sister city, one of the most original and finished organists of this country, has succeeded in producing these results. It would do your soul good to worship with him, and teach an important lesson, if you are skeptical upon this subject. THE PRAYER-MEETING. Luther's Faith. It is faith which gives Luther this clearness of vision. "I have lately seen two miracles," he says, "the first as I was looking out of my window and saw the star in heaven and all that beautiful vaulted roof of God, and yet saw no pillars on which the Master builder had fixed this vault, yet the heaven fell not, but all that grand arch stood firm. Now there are some who search for such pil lars and want to touch and grasp them, and since they cannot they wonder and tremble as if the heaven must certainly fall, for no other reason but because they cannot touch and grasp its pillars. If they could lay hold on those, think they, then the heaven would stand firm! The second miracle was,-I saw great clouds rolling over us, with such a ponderous weight that they might be compared to a great ocean, and yet I saw no foundation on which they rested or were based, nor any shore which kept them back; yet they fell not on us, but frowned on us with a stern countenance and fled. But when they had passed by, then shone forth both their foundation and our roof which had kept them back-the rainbow! Yet that :0: was indeed a weak, thin, slight foundation and roof, which soon melted away into the clouds, and was more like a shadowy prism, such as we see through colored glass, than a strong and firm foundation; so that we might well distrust that feeble dyke which kept back that terrible weight of waters. Yet we found, in fact, that this unsubstantial prism could bear up the weight of waters, and that it guards us safely. But there are some who look rather at the thick- Preaching and Praying. The nature of preaching as spiritual work-work not to be done without the corperation of the Spirit, acquaints us with the part which prayer has in preparing for it. Self-evidently, prayer, as a means, is required before every other, and is virtually at least, continued and ascendant in every other. If a spiritual discourse is not a possible achievement of natural power, to attempt one independently of the aid of the Holy Spirit, were a plain absurdity; and since the Spirit is present to impart His aid, the attempt were impious, an insult to the infinite Spirit, as well as absurd. But not without intentional and conscious effort on the preacher's part directed to that end, is the power of the Spirit developed in congenial concurrence with his activity. The divine does not concur with the human in this free and holy operation, but at the urgent and continued exertion of the human. May a man makes a sermon without conciously looking to the Spirit and seeking His assistance, when without doing this he cannot read the Scriptures; or do aught else as he should? It is an intuition of conscience that a preacher is required by the business of his vocation, to be, above others, a man of prayer. Is it not manifest that this, in truth, must be the main business with every preacher who really regards preaching as an impossibility, to man, without aid from above? He will, of course, give to the work study, invention, the closest application of his mind, the highest use of his talent, learning, culture; but in all, and more than all, he will be praying in spirit, with all prayer and supplication, that the Holy Spirit may not cease to work mightily within him, illuminating, sanctifying, strengthing, directing the exercise of his faculties until he has completed his preparation. Rev. T. H. Skinner, D.D. Prayer Answered. IN one of the cottage houses of a densly peopled village in the West Riding of Yorkshire, about ninteen years ago, a pious woman was sitting waiting the return of her husband from his daily toil. It was almost midnight; her children were in bed-they were accustomed to rise early, from the eldest to the youngest, to add to the common stock-a stock diminished by the intemperance of the father, who, for some time, had been in the habit of spending his evenings at a neighboring public house. His wife was an industrious woman, and the duties of her family had engaged her attention up to that hour. She put away some articles of clothing she had been mending for one of the children; and, wearied in mind and body, anxiously waited for the well-known step of her husband. She had prayed long for her husband's conversion, and, thus far, saw no answer to her prayers; but her confidence in God remained unshaken; and now, placing the Bible (her solace and joy since she had found the way of peace) on the seat of the arm-chair, she knelt and read some of the precious promises of God; then pouring forth her soul in simple childlike prayer, such as only a woman strong in faith could have offered, she rose, refreshed, strengthened, and calm. Throwing a shawl over her head, she wended her way to the too well-known public house. As she raised the latch, the clock struck one. Her husband was sitting in the bar with some of his fellow workmen and the landlady, when she entered. In an angry tone he bade her go home. The landlady said, "Wait a little, your husband will go with you.' She advanced to the table where they were sitting, and said in a calm voice to the landlady: 66 'Mrs. a seven years is long time to wait for anything, is it not?" "Yes," said the landlady, landlady, but fourteen years is longer, is it not?" "Yes," answered the wife, "but twenty-one years is longer still. I have waited and prayed twenty-one years for the conversion of my husband; and as sure as he is sitting in your bar, I shall live to see him pass this house, and have no inclination to enter; for God will answer my prayer." She turned to leave the room, and her husband followed her; but no angry word passed his lips--he seemed to quail before her. About this time, the Rev. J. Rattenbury was stationed at Leeds. On the Sunday following the night just mentioned, Martin was induced to accompany his praying wife to hear him. The text announced was the pious resolution of Ruth: "Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God." The word came home with power, the arrow of conviction sank deep into his soul. For several days he groaned for mercy; but the hour of deliverance came. "The Spirit answered to the blood, And told him he was born of God." On the Sunday after his conversion, Martin returned from the chapel to his own happy home, with a firm step-the mid-day meal was spread upon the table-children were already seated; but his heart was full. "Children," said he, “your mother's prayers are answered. I have passed that house where I spent so much time and money, without the least desire to enter. Let us praise the Lord together.' They fell upon their kneeshe by the arm-chair, on the spot which had been, in times past, a Bethel and an Ebenezer to his wife-and with joyful heart, they two raised their hearts and voices in gratitude and praise to God, who had plucked him as a brand from the burning; alike acknowledging his weakness, and asking strength to stand in the hour of temptation. God heard those prayers: and Martin became as eminent for piety as he had before been prominent in the service of Satan. Vol. XXXVIII, No. 12.] DECEMBER, 1864. SERMON XXVIII.* [Whole No. 947. By Rev. WM. AIKMAN, PASTOR OF THE HANOVER PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, WILMINGTON, DELAWARE. THE CHURCH'S PIETY, THE PULPIT'S POWER. "And Moses said unto Aaron, what did this people unto thee, that thou hast brought so great a sin upon them? And Aaron said, let not the anger of my Lord wax hot: thou knowest the people, that they are set on mischief. For they said unto me, make us gods which shall go before us."-EXODUS xxxii : 21, 22, 23. THE history of which this is a part, is familiar to you. Moses had gone, and as he alone gave reality to the presence of God, the children of Israel considered Jehovah too as gone. Their old idolatry still in vigorous life, they asked Aaron, as he himself says, to make them gods to supply the place of the one they had lost. Moved by their demands, and yielding against his judgment and conscience to the influences about him, he gave them what they desired. This transaction illustrates the power of a people over the minds of those who are set to guide them, and suggests the * Preached at the opening of the Synod of Pennsylvania, Oct. 18, 1864. |