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Lhe Universalist Sermou Yage.
REV. JACOB STRAUB. Marseilles, 111. FAITH AND PRAYER IN HEALING DISEASE. AN ESSAY-SERMON, by Rev. Jacob Straub, pastor of the Universalist Churoh at Mar seilles, 111., prepared expressly for publication in The Universalist. * Ani the prayer of faith shall heal the sick.” (Jas. v, 15.) It is often remarked that history re peats itself; and the ancient Solomon said, “There is nothing new under the i sun.” However, he was not living in a i day of invention as we are. But in | general these sayings may b8 regarded j as truisms. The student of sociology, looking over the details of past history, finds prece dent for many of the phases of human deportment of to-day which seem new. He finds that each age and community of the past had its philosopher and ig norant man, the same as now are seen. He finds there the believing and the un believing ; the irreligious and the su perstitious ; the virtuous and the vi cious. History cannot be written so poorly or with such partisan bias as not to intelligibly reveal these characters. We are not, then, exclusively in the modern day. The characteiistics of the human mind of all the past, in respect to philosophy, government and religion, are, in essentials, with the people of to-day, and will be with them in all the long to-morrow. Besides, the new achievements which distinguish the present are not from the whole mass of mind having be come so much elevated. A very con siderable part would not measure above where many of several thousand years ago would have measured. From these would we expect to see, so far aa con ditions permitted, about the same mental phenomena. The element of religion having been for the most part wrapped in much mystery, must have been, from the oldest times, an inviting field for the the work of fanciful and speculative minds. Religion was the bend uniting the soul with the gods, or with God, who with the most enlightened were invisible beings—beyond all sensuous observations. Their relation with the souls and the bodies of men, and with all external nature, was by no laws with which man could be acquainted. The laws of visible nature were at all times subject to these supernatural laws and revokable at the election of these gods. Everything in the direction of the gods was permanently mirac ulous. This was more especially true of the devotees of the pagan religions, but it was also true of a large part of the fol lowing of the Hebrew worship. “Who by searching can find out God,” which is a truism of to-day, was an expres sion in the Hebrew mind of a mystery much greater than is entertained of God by the enlightened Christian mind of the present. And mystery practi cally removing all limits to the admis sion of interpretations, there could be no check placed upon the most extrav agant assumptions. And no reason and no science could be applied where the law could not be cited. Hence the religious world was large ly at the mercy of religious charlatans and demagogues. From this it so soon became possible to shroud so largely the simple, reasoning teachings of Jesus under an impenetrable film of creeds, thus inflicting an irreparable loss on mankind, and entailing a list of mythical appliances to the Christian system, which are still delaying the good day when, by being seen to rest upon well known law, the doctrines of Christ will be incontrovertible. We are entering upon a day of better light—a fact generally conceded to be true of religion as well as of other mat ters. And while the more intelligent of our time see no prospect that the finite mind shall ever see all mystery pertaining to religion fully solved, by reason of the permanently superior position of the Infinite—the Deity— with whom a part of the conditions of religion rests, still what truths pertain ing to it are essentially our part of it, are fast being opened to the average understanding; so much so that of many other matters which determine our actions, we know the principles with quite as little certainty. And so religion has its philosophy and its science, and is measurably with in the province of reason and demon stration. People, therefore, may and should go into their churches, as they go into their schools, knowing that the principles which they there employ are essentially matters of fact and justify ing. One will not enjoy his music less by knowing it to be fixed in intelligi ble laws, and by himself understanding those laws. Neither will one enjoy his religion less by knowing it is a matter of law and that with its principles he has an acquaintance. The tendency is to make him more religious when he comes to see that it is a fact and not a play of life—when he sees that religion is a factor of self and not an accretion, and his best condition is inseparable from its observance, and that its 1 tws in violation are very severe upon the offender. - Now, among the essential elements of the religion of Christ—the soul’s ideal religion—are prayer and faith. With out these the religion of Christ is not present. And by their wisest employ ment, as provided by the Master, life is at its best. Prayer and faith have their c mditions, which are deducible from the New Testament without much labor, by very ordinary measures of mind. Religious prayer is asking of God what the spiritual desires indicate, which m iy include temporal needs. Moved by the example of the Master, as well as by the common impulse to pray, and noting, probably, the differ ences in the prayers by the established church and those by the Master, the disciples asked to be instructed in prayer. The result was the brief for mula called “The Lord’s Prayer.” The first element of this prayer is the due recognition of the Deity as the parent of the human soul. Then come peti tions for blessings, among which is that which specifies that the will of the Father should be supreme. Put the hasty and perhaps Bel fish worshiper is apt to overlook the fact that God must know more as to what is good and should be done than himself could know; and to forget that Jesus said, “Your Father knoweth what things ye have need of before ye ask him.” In that unequaled ordeal in Gethsem mane, where the cup of bitterness over ran all measure,—where, in failing to drain it, none but himself and God could have detected the flaw in his conduct,—for a moment he allowed weak nature to assert its course, by the prayer, “If it be possible, let the cup pass,” but at once brought it under by the words, “Not as I will, but as thou wilt.” But, it is observed, “Did not Jesus plainly say, ‘Ask and it shall be given you ?’ ” Yes, as a mark of apprecia tion and subordination, God requires us to ask—to solicit for every good. And did he not also say, “He that be lieveth on me, the works that I do shall he do also ; and greater works shall he do?” In submitting these questions, it is not taken into account that the in structions of Christ are against uncon ditional asking of the Father, and that such asking involves arrogance, and essentially unchristian conduct. To a class, St. James remarks, “Ye ask and receive not, because ye ask amiss,” which should impress the Scripture student, that not all asking is availing, and that receiving is conditioned upon the manner of asking as prescribed by the Master. Of faith there is often as large a misunderstanding. Instead of being an assurance, based on reasonable grounds, it not infrequently is understood to be what under other circumstances would be called merely assumption. The con sideration that faith is a creature of the will, to be exercised at choice, is proof of this very radical misunder standing. Anv illustration of this view of faith is in a homely anecdote of the woodman being rallied on the subject of faith. It was alleged that if he had faith to that effect he might cast his ax into the stream and it would swim. He declined to believe it, but would make the experiment. The ax was thrown, and promptly descended to the bottom. “Just as I expected,” re sponded the man. Now an assumption may be imagined in the mind of this victim, but nothing of the character of faith. Faith is very philosophically defined by St. Paul as' “the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” We observe here that an essential condition of faith is “evi dence,” not assumption, of things not sensibly visible, possibly an inward evidence based upon assurances not externally verifiable, and perhaps illu sory and not resting on real facts at all. It is not materially unlike that pre science of the future which so largely shapes the present, and which evokes from life such wonderful energy ; only in religion it is applied to another class of facts—a class liable to excite, in some temperaments, more strongly the sense of assurance, from considerations of intimacies and special dealing with final causes, or with the Doity. With minds thus conditioned, faith might be made more efficient, with a wider range of application—in extreme cases to directly seize on the fiber of the body, or, why not, upon the neigh boring mind, its vital forces and sub tendent physical fiber ? Indeed, such is well recognized phys iological law, and enters largely into hygiene. Hence there is such a thing as “faith cure.” Physicians recognize it, and make account of it in practice. While there is a materia medica, and people are cured by it, at times even against their unbelief and wish, the faith of the patient is of wonderful help in the curative process, and an important auxiliary to the material remedies. Of the faith cures performed at Lourdes, in France, and Knock, in Ire land, there is thorough confirmation. The faculty call the process, ‘ Expectant attention,” a term signifying, substan tially, what Paul indicates by the term “faith.” But Lourdes and Knock are liomish affairs ; and Protestants who are, since the Moody revivals, so largely believing in prayer and faith cures, should make a note of this fact. And so the Ro manists; they, too, are being rivaled very closely by the heretics. Dr. Cul lis, of Boston, and Rev. Mr. Simpson, of New York, have closely pressed on Lourdes and Knock. And these Ro manists and Protestants together need to be alert, or the disagreeable Spirit lalist, and perhaps the unsavory Mor mon, will excel them both. In 1865, while I was residing in Michigan, a Dr. Bryant, a Spiritualist in Detroit, had rooms full of discarded crutches, left as testimonials by healed patients. Mor mons gathered their following largely by miracles of this character, wrought for the most part in by-places and among the more ignorant classes. But still further, outside and separate from all religions, these so-called miracles are seen to transpire. The late Professor Carpenter, the foremost physiologist of his time, gives the account of the heal ing of a paralytic by faith—expectant attention. The invalid was advised to call on Sir Humphrey Davy, with strong assurances that he would realize a cure at the hands of the great man. On presenting himself, the distinguished scientist, for examination, thrust the thermometer under his tongue, to get the patient’s temperature. The pa tient supposing this the magic medi cine, in ecstacies exclaimed that he felt the influence all through him, and that he was already much better. Dr. Davy, casting at a companion a quizical glance, dismissed the patient without further treatment, with instruction to return to be treated again in a short time. In a little while the paralytic was well. Faith cured him ! Faith not in a big saint, but in a big doctor. He was cured by divine law, however, by one of God’s good and great ministers, and with the approval of Christ, we may be assured. Much is said of taith cure at the present time. Books are written upon the subject, some with a good deal of ability and many good suggestions. Journals are published in the interests thereof. Hospitals are built, and very much and ingenious advertising is done. It is like the “blue glass” epidemic of a few years ago, and the innumerable electrical pads, belts, soles, combs, brushes, etc., offered to the invalid world. A large number of people know very little about electricity, and these trinkets find a good market. Besides, it may well be believed that large num bers are benefited by their use as ex citants to faith. It is then unbecoming for thoughtful people to speak discourage ugly of faith cures, and should only insist that proper credits shall be given, and that things shall be designated by the right names. And let not the exalted works of Jesus and the holy Apostles, as well as those of the religiously pure and good of any age, be confounded with those of mer cenary charlatans and quacks. If now it be thought necessary to ask, “Did not Jesus and the Apostles perform cures by a gift of the Spirit, as alleged?” The answer is, They certainly did. There are the best reasons in the world why those inspired and greatly spiritualized lives should have per formed those cures as set forth in the record. If it were further asked, “Why, then, may not those of to-day be per formed by the same agency, as is claim ed ?” it would be answered that some may be,—that God is on the same lib eral terms with mankind now that he was in the Apostolic days, and that he will answer prayer according to what he sees is best, now as then. It is to be observed, however, that with the race as with an individual, one age may require differently from another. With the advent of reason in greater force there is properly less ap peal to miracle for the establishment of a principle. Hence the discontinuance of miracles, in the ratio of advancing light, were to be expected of an intelli gent government over man. It can hardly be said to have been from the spirit of kindness that Jesus raised Lazarus to suffer and die over again, and to thus break the hearts of the sisters anew, after a temporary re covery of the lost happiness of his soci ety. But for the privilege of minister ing to dependent ones, it would have been better for the brother to have con tinued his sleep or his new possession of a happier life among friends no less precious. Jesus referred to the act as having been done to establish confi dence in his authority, and not of kind ness merely. It was done “to the intent that ye may believe,” though himself was in weeping sympathy with the bereaved. But it is unlikely that mortals at their present level would make a wise use of the prerogative over death, im plied by the terms of the faith cure appearing in the customary arguments in its support—promise of auswer to the prayer of faith. By Christian be lief death is a necessary factor of the gospel. But when would death to the loved friend transpire, leaving it to the choice of friends V When could segre gating disease win its way to the re lease of the spirit from a sphere which at best is too low for it ? The presence of the gift would be the responsibility for the given life, and the death would be chargeable to the neglect of employ ing the gift. It were a responsibility, therefore, that would hardly be chosen by thoughtful people. Such facts alone render the claim altogether improbable—not to say im possible. Ou higher altitudes, greatly distant from our present, people may take leave o£ this world at a time of recognized titness, in joy, at their own election, and with the concurrence and joy of their friends, as one setting out on the homeward way. Till then, a wiser, stronger heart than man's must determine the number of man's days. Meantime, prayers are not wholly unavailing ; and it is well that we oiler them for our loved ones whom we so highly cherish and would so much sor row to lose from our society. God is by no means indifferent to our wishes. Many things he gives us because we ask him—when the asking makes it right that we should have them. But he is too wisely loving to indulge his child in what would not be best; and the prayer, to be free from the arro gance which destroys its virtue, must never be wanting in the sentiment, “Not as I will, but as thou wilt.” THE PULPIT AND THE PEW. Bv Rev. J. J. Austin. (Waterloo, Iowa.) The following is an address at the Iowa Convention at Cedar Rapids : I am expected to say something about the Pulpit and the Pew—the re ciprocal influence each has upon the other—the attraction and repulsion be tween them. Such attraction and repulsion are matters of frequent, if not common ob servation. And they doubtless come from three sources: 1. The differences in the mental and moral constitutions of men. 2. The different degrees of men tal and moral culture among men. 3. The different aspects of the (i spel in its application to men. I do not propose, in the time allotted me, to present a complete analysis of this great theme; but simply to call your attention to a few of its salient features, and then leave each one of you to complete and apply the subject for yourself. Did you never think how many sides religion presents to the people of this nineteenth century ?—One is a lover of forms, another of beautiful sentiments, a third of spasmodic devotion, a fourth of moral principles, a fifth of doctrinal faith, while the religion of the sixth i3 based on fear. There may be many minor developments, but these are the principal ones. They are so many as pects of a perfect religious character, each one carried to extreme, perhaps, and made to over-ride all the rest. And being so variously blended and com pounded among the people at large, as well as among the preachers, it be comes very difficult, if not quite im possible, for any one preacher of the Gospel to give perfect satisfaction to all his hearers. Take the lover of forms, for exam ple. It is very difficult for him to un derstand that religion is anything but forms. If a man reads his prayers at stated intervals, he thinks him a Christian. Whoever neglects these Out ward forms he puts down as entirely devoid of the spirit of Christ. He is apt to forget that Christ and the Apos tles had no church liturgy nor rituals. And such a man would be likely to be censorious of the preacher who did not take precisely his view of religion. And is not such the position of some of the churches of our time ? Does not each claim to be the church, even at the expense of unchurching all churches beside V It certainly seems to be so. These churches are devoted to the for mal aspect of religion, rather than the spiritual. They are not wholly wrong, because forms are not altogether false. They are quite indispensable in a world like this, because they signify some thing, and that something cannot well be signified without them. But ex treme formalism is very bad, because it makes religion a one-sided thing— giving the crust without the kernel— the chaff without the wheat—and be cause the fruit of religion is lost at the expense of excessive foliage. Take the lover of beautiful senti ments as another illustration. Such a man has little patience with your plain, hard-handed, matter-of-fact Christian. He thinks religion a fine-spun theory sparkling with gems of poetic beauty, and exactly adapted to the cultured mind. He often forgets that the “com mon people heard him gladly” in the times of the Saviour. And of course if every sermon does not come up to his ideal of beauty—if it does not glit ter, and sparkle, and blaze with bril liauts—he says at once the preacher is behind the times, he is not adapted to his place, and his people; he is not flowery enough, brilliantenough, flashy aud trashy and sensational enough, and the man flutters and sputters and with draws—or compels the preacher to do so—thus giving his influence to unset tle the ministry because his own vain standard of judgment is not adopted by all. And is not such the position of the sensational and sentimental churches of the day ? Do they not pride them selves upon scholastic lore and human itarian philosophy '( Do they not play between Orthodoxy and Universalism, now having the warmest fellowship for one party and then for the other, and by and by, ignoring every one else and pretending to be the only liberal peo ple in the world ? Do they not neglect the great doctrines of the Lord Jesus— the fatherhood of God, the brotherhood of man, and the equal destiny of the world—while they try to feed the soul with the trash of rhetoric, and the wind bags of beautiful expressions y Some affirm that such is the fact. And every one knows, or ought to know, that it make3 religion a one-sided thing—not the formal, but the sentimental side very beautiful without, but hollow and heartless within, and having about as much substance for food as the sun-col ored soap-bubbles of our childhood days. Good sentiment is an excellent thing, but it is not everything, It is a part of the Gospel, but not the whole of it. And it should have some regard, but not the supreme place in our affection. Truth and goodness are the Gospel’s bone and muscle ; purity is the very soul, and whatever of beauty you add must play in harmony with, and be subordinate to them. And the lover of spasmodic devotion makes religion a one-sided thing in an other direction. When he prays, he means to be heard, whether he prays without ceasing or not. lie seems to imagine that God is asleep, or deaf, or gone on a far j >uruey, and he must rend the very heavens asunder, lie ligion without frenzy is no religion at all for him. He doubts the piety of the man who does not warm up into in tense enthusiasm. He believes in re ligious earthquakes and tornadoes, but not so much in the “still small voice of the spirit.” He seem to have the idea that the thunder kills, and not the lightning. And of course, if the preach er does not rant and bellow and thun der enough, he thinks he must be get ting cold in the cause, and i3 not the preacher for him. And now let me ask, are you not re minded of the “Nazrrite” movement, the camp meeting, the Salvation army, and of those periodical excitements that are sometimes miscalled “revivals of religion ?” Such people seem to be skeptical of any man’s religion which is not as noisy as their own. Devo tional fervor is an excellent thing, and I would to God we had a thousand fold more of it, and the real Christian will be devoted to the service of God and man. But an excess of merely outward devotion tends to make religious feel ing spasmodic, and not uniform—now up and then down—to-day at zero and to-morrow at the boiling point. Some thing like t.he ague and fever, and that disease is not supposed to be very favor able to the advancement of pure re ligion among men, nor exactly adapted to the production of a death-bed repent ance. Another man thinks that religion consists oi moral principle only. lie means to be a good man and to act rightly, whether he is sound in the faith or not. He never say3 much, but keeps right on in the even tenor of his way. He is known as a good moral man, though not as a noisy professor of religion. He has the notion of Pope, the poet, better than a hundred bulls of the Pope of Rome, that “an honest man is the noblest work of God.” He had rather be honest, true-hearted and good, than a dishonest, long-faced, ly ing, cross, mean professor ot godliness. He ha3 no patience with your little hearted, close-handed Christian, al though willing to do any poor soul a favor. If he has any creed at all, it is the glorious Golden Rule. His model man is the good Samaritan. If a mem berof any church, he wants the preacher to preach less about faith and profes sions and more about good works. If inclined to be censorious anywhere it would be upon that point. And I think we must confess there are very few preachers who would justly escape his rebuke. And does he not represent another class of the people ? Verily, it is so. They are the class who make religion a set of practical duties. Faith, profes sions, forms and theories, are not re garded by them as of much worth. They have got around to the practical side of Christianity, and they mean to stay there. And they have, indeed, a very amiable ard excellent position; and if only one Christian trait could be had, it would be, by far, the most lovely of all. But, after all, man has a mind as well as a heart, and he may have the truth as well as the practical good ness. “Faith without works, is dead,” and so works without the faith that prompts them, would be very few and small. “As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he.” Religion is a theory and a practice, as the sun’s ray is both light and warm. Make a man believe a theory and he will act it out in the life, and if he does not act it, you may be sure, whatever his pretense may be, he does not truly believe it. Here is the great difference between barbarism and civilization; a barbarous belief is always barbarous in its results, while genuine Christian civilization is full of light, and love, and joy. L9t the world be taught truth, and that world will re spond with love. Still another adheres with great per tinacity to doctrinal faith. He views the gospel as composed of the bone, the muscle, and the nerve of doctrine. Forms are nothing to him, sentiment is nothing to him, devotional feeling is nothing to him, practical goodness is nothing to him ; there is nothing in all the wide world to be compared with essential djctrine. He is all faith in the sense of dogmatic opinions, and so has no room for anything else. Men must think aright, which is just as he thinks, whether they feel rightly and act rightly or not. The heresy of faith is more odious to him than the heresy of a corrupt life. lie scents out infidel ity quite as readily as a bloodhound tracks a runaway slave. The creed must be right, at all hazards. A false thought is regarded by him as the very unpardonable sin. You must be “evan gelical,” according to his standard, or you shall not see heaven. The errorist of opinion is denounced as the worst enemy of God and man. God’s great mistake in creation was, that he did not cramp all minds in the same stere otype mold, and measure all men and women on the tame iron bedstead of abstract faith. Such seems to be the position of the doctrinal dogmatist. His preacher is the doctrinal preacher, of course, for he has no patience with any other. If every sermon is not strongly doctrinal, in the sense of tear ing some errorist’s faith in pieces, he is ready to find fault and go for disunion. The world must bow to him, or he soon runs off the track. If you touch any living moral question, he thinks you touch him. He may drink a little, and swear a little, and shave notes a good deal, and extort double or triple interest, and be unfaithful to marriage vows, and social duties, but that is no body’s business, and he will not be re minded of it from the pulpit, nor read about it in the word of God. You must preach the gospel of dry bones, and let all moral questions alone. He does not ; thiuk, nor care, how many tastes there are to be suited besides bis own. lie shakes his purse in your face, and says, “Do this, or do that, if you dare.” There was a time when he whirled the fire brand, the rack, the thumb screw, the halter and the law; and many an hon est man, because h8 was honest, paid to him the forfeiture of liberty and life. It is not so bad now; still, there is a great deal of cross-firing at the pulpit, and many a poor minister sinks his manhood out of sight by vainly trying to please all. This doctrinal man that I have men tioned, is the representative of a class of men in all denominations. John Calvin was a leading man of the party. He acted out his prominent trait when he gave his voice and influence to the burning of Michael Servetus, just be cause he denied the doctrine of the trinity. So of Prof. Patton, when he impaled Prof. Swing on the horns of the Presbyterian bull, and drove him out of that communion. So, too, of the Methodist church, when it pitched Dr. Thomas overboard, to sink or swim, as he might, in the broad, free waters of the world. The same trait is exhib ited in a great variety of ways. It is the very thing which makes so wide a distinction between our “evangelical” neighbors and ourselves. Each party adheres to its own doctrines, firmly and strongly, and that is all well enough, but while we are willing to acknowl edge all g<)od people to be Christians, according to the test, “By their fruits ye shall know them,” they seem to overlook the test of goodness, and all virtues beside, and to rest and rely en tirely on the essentials of doctrinal faith. Paul says : “N ow abideth faith, hope and charity, these three, but the greatest of these is charity;” yet the doctrinal dogmatist affirms, “Now abid eth charity, hope and faith, but the greatest of the three, and by far the greatest of all great things, is sound, evangelical, orthodox faith. It was that position which ousted Swing and Thomas; it was the same position which barred the door against Chan ning, Ballou, and a host of the saints in every age ; they believed in the faith, they clung to the hope, but they made charity supreme over all. True doctrines are indispensable to a right gospel faith, but the common vir tues of life must not be overlooked. Here lies the point of danger. Doc trines are good for nothing, except as they affect the heart and the life for good. The very object of “doctrine, reproof, correction and instruction in righteousness” is, that the “man of God may be perfect, thoroughly fur nished unto all good works.” The doc trines of the intellect must distill in love upon the heart, and flow out in gentle offices of good to all around. That was the rule of the Saviour, “By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to an other.” And therefore you see, it is not right to get around to the doctrinal side of Christianity, and then insist that it has no other side. The gospel is a full-rounded, many-featured, and very beautiful thing. It is adapted to all times, all seasons, all places, all per sons, and all circumstances. In the brightest periods of youth, it is a glori ous vision; when sadness and suffering come, that vision is radiant with love. And so believers of the gospel ought never to forget, whatever their personal peculiarities may be, that “the end of the commandment is charity, out of a pure heart, and of a good conscience, and of faith unfeigned.” Auother man thinks religion synony mous with fear. He sees in the gloomy man the genuine religious man. The very clouds and storms, nature’s agen cies for good, are emblems of divine wrath to him. He always appeals to the awful consequences of not being religious. If you are not solemnly pious to-day, you shall go down to end less burnings to-morrow. He seems to forget that nature has sunlight, and rainbows, and flowers, and singing birds, and many beautiful things which be speak the cheerfulness and the happi ness of God's children, as the children of nature. He makes the fear of end less woe the basis, the center, the su perstructure, the crown, the sine qua non of the gospel. He does not like the preacher, if he will not appeal to the sentiment of fear in the most terrific manner. He must make the gospel a magazine of fireworks—of blazing pyro technics—of terrible thunderbolts -of dynamite earthquakes—and he must make the sinner believe they shall play upon him eternally, if he will not re pent and join the church. Tertullian was a good ancient example of this man of terror. Jonathan Edwards is a very good modern example. And here is another influence making mischief in the world, by presenting the gospel in an unattractive character, and religion in an unlovely light. This class of men are not found in any one denomination exclusively, but they are found in all who claim to be, par (xcelknce, “evangelical." Their great mistake is in carrying the principle of fear too far. Men ought to “fear God and keep his commandments,” but that fear should be based on a just, deserved, and limited punishment, for the good of the punished, not on an unjust, unmerciful, and unlimited display of infinite horror. Those who take that ground have gone beyond the very ex treme of gospel fear, and the position has done great injury to the cause of “pure and undented religion,” beside being a serious “bone of contention” between the ancient pulpit and the modern pew. “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casteth out fear, be cause fear hath torment,—he that fear etli, is not made perfect in love.” Here I take the ground that pure Christianity embraces all the sides, ali the phases, all the characteristics I have mentioned, though somewhat modified and chastened by their mutual relations and harmonies. It includes all useful forms, all correct sentiments, all pure devotion, all sound moral principles, all essential doctrines, and all godly fear. And as the grand foundation of the whole, it rests upon the broad basis of universal and individual love. God is love. These are all combined in pure Christianity. They make the sum total of universal truth and goodness of Uni versalism. Any one of these features is only one of the features of the gos pel. It takes them all to make a full round sun—the sun of righteousness— that shall enlighten and warm the world. God’s system of truth and love is broad enough for the whole universe. And universal truth and love—Universal ism—is the only plan which answers to our highest ideal, the blazing mountain summit which enlightens and warms the world. Of course, there are some things which may, and should, and will be crit icised, whenever they are seen or heard in the pulpit; a boorish manner, slov enly dress, bad pronunciation, incor rect grammar, ignorant allusions to science, art, literature, law, history, etc.; but these things seldom get into the pulpit, in modern civilized society, and when they do, they are not apt to stay very long. The school-master is abroad, and the graded school and col lege are very common. S> it is not needed that this department of our subject shall receive more than this passing allusion. Yet it is quite possible that acoEgre gation may lack good manners, may promise and not perform, may come straggling in and disturb the prompt and serious worshipers, may fail to ap preciate their privileges, and so catch up every “bone of contention,” and whirl every “fire-brand” of mischief. This, too, is not a pleasant part of our theme, it is one of the repulsions of which the world is quite too full, and so I pass it by, with this vague hint of what might be possible, if one were dis posed to picture a model congregation, and its reverse. I will not attempt to do that work to-day. The practical inference from this subject is, “No man should make him self a standard for the world—an infal lible oracle—and let his arrows fly at all who do not chance to agree with him, but each should endeavor to com prehend all the traits, and all the graces, of a fully endowed Christian, and make charity the supreme rule of life.” The photograph of your friend may be a front view, or a side view, or a back view, and no two views will be just alike. A hundred men may view the city of London from a hundred stand points, and no one man's view would be recognized by any other man. Very much so it is with the gospel of Christ, with the written or spoken word, with the men in the pulpit, and the people in the pew. Each stands at a different angle of vision, and each has personal, mental and moral bents of his own. Hence come the attractions, and repul sions, between the pulpit and the pew. Yet all our interests and duties are the same. We may use forms, because they are useful. We may be sentimen tal, because refined sentiment is a blessing to the world. We may prac tice devotion, because there is a Divin ity who is worthy of all reverence and love. We may and must act out moral principle, because we cannot be honest otherwise. We may adhere to the greet, pure, essential doctrines of the gospel, because they are true and right, and there are no teachings from any source which can be compared with them. We may and should cherish a godly fear, because of our just responsibility to God. And above all, and as the basis of all, we may ever manifest that love to each other and the world, which God through the Saviour so constantly manifests toward us. Thus shall we all be Christians, indeed, the highest of human attainments,—thus shall all criticisms between pulpit and pew be kindly affectionate, and do good, and thus, and only thus, can we exhibit 1 he many traits of the one true character before the world. -Says the Boston Traveller: ‘On Tuesduy, surrounded by their children, grandchildren, brothers, sisters and de voted friends, Professor and Mrs. Ed ward A. Park, of Andover Theological Seminary celebrated the fiftieth anni versary of their marriage. They came, after a mouth’s bridal, tour to the house on Andover Hill, which has ever since been their home and which is now known all over the world, not only by those who have been students in the theological seminary, bat by hundreds of Phillips Academy boys and Abbott Academy girls, for its rettned and sympathetic at mosphere, its genial hospitality and its hearty Christian helpfulness. Among the beautiful artistic gift3 of the friends were a tea service which belonged to Mrs. Park’s mother, who was a sister of Arthur and Lewis Tappau, of noble anti slav ery memory; silverware from Professor Park’s childhood home hi Provideuce, K. I.; a teaspoon once the property of Hal lie Burr, sister of Aaron Burr, who, like Mrs. Park’s father, Colonel William Edwards, was a grandson of Jonathan Edwards and his beautiful wife, Sarah Pierrepont; and a priceless cbina plate, once the property of Mary Franklin, the sister of Ur. Benjamin Frauklin, who married Hubert Holmes and became the great great-grandmother of Mrs. Park.” Independence is the name for what no man possesses; nothing in the animate or inanimate worlds is more dependent tbau man.