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uncertainty; nor his indolence soothed by the idea, that what he fails of accomplishing this time, he can do more thoroughly by another effort. But the more that facts in the glad experience of the churches, lead towards the opinion that it is the proper tendency of motives to produce corresponding action, and that sinners are actually persuaded to repent and believe the gospel, the more will ministers feel the weight of a present object in all their labors. They will see the salvation of souls depending on every sermon.

This view of the office of preach ing, beginning to be generally adopt ed, is evidently producing an altera tion, for the better, in the style of sermons. Preachers are getting more into the use of the plain, straight forward style, of Chatham, of President Edwards, of nature. The ne cessity of the times is breaking up the studied phraseology, and the rounded periods, which please in the parlour, but tire in the pulpit, and substituting the language, and the manner of common life. Such a change is called for, by the popular voice, and sanctioned by reason and experience. The minister who has any thought of doing good, or who even wishes to acquire influence enough to secure the continuance of his employment, has got to lay aside, as well the polished elegance of the essayist, as the dignified march of the historian, and place himself among his hearers, and "talk to them face to face."

L. W.

For the Christian Spectator.
The Pulpit.

THE PULPIT in a figurative sense has long been the theme of the moralist and of the poet. While I have admired the sublime strains of the one, and the spirit-stirring prose of the other, the question has often recurred to my thoughts, why has not the pulpit literally been made the theme of some able pen. Has the aspiring genius of the past and the present

age overlooked so humble a subject? The pulpit divested of metonomy it is true does not furnish a subject of great moral sublimity, but it has a literal sublimity which may excite a few important moral reflections. Since no writer has ventured into this humble region of thought I shall undertake the office of a pioneer, and make the literal pulpit a theme of discourse. The subject may be best considered under three general divisions.-The altitude, location and structure of the pulpit.

1. The altitude. I have not enough of the spirit of the antiquary to search out the date of high pulpits, and not knowing the circumstances under which they were originated, I shall not presume to censure the occupants of the ancient desk for consenting to be elevated so far above their hearers. If however in the present age of investigation, I may hazard a conjecture concerning the origin of high pulpits, I will say that it is possible the idea of giving the pulpit a noble elevation may have been derived from that great moral distance which was supposed in primitive times to exist between the pastor and his flock, and from that apostolic reverence in which the ministerial office was held. I well remember in the days of my childhood, the overwhelming awe that seized me on hearing it announced-" the minister is coming!" and upon the Sabbath I was accustomed to regard him in his elevated station with all the reverence that I should feel for the monarch on his throne. But whatever may have been the origin of the high pulpit, and however cogent may have been the reasons for transmitting to posterity the custom of giving the pastor so high a sabbath-day elevation above his flock, it would seem in the present levelling age-since the moral distance between the minister and his parishioners is regarded so small, and the ancient veneration for the ministerial office is become so nearly extinct, it would seem that the

altitude of the pulpit is disproportioned to the moral state of the times. This remark may lead the reader to suspect that the writer of this article considers the ancient pulpit too high, and he is correct in his suspicions; but as I have arguments more conclusive to offer in defence of this position, I shall dismiss the argument for reducing the height of the pulpit, derived from the disproportion of its altitude, to the present altitude of ministerial dignity, lest I should unwittingly make room for a justifying inference in favour of reducing still lower the reverence for the ministerial office, which I fear is descending fast enough without the aid of arguments.

The first argument that I advance then in defence of the position, that the ancient pulpit is too high, and consequently the modern one, which is constructed after the primitive fashion, is derived from the fact that a house is not so easily filled by the voice, when the speaker is so far above his hearers. Sound, it is well know n is produced by the impinging of agitated particles of air upon the ear. The farther the speaker is therefore, from the hearer, the more strength of voice is necessary to be heard. Now by reducing the altitude of the pulpit, you bring the speaker nearer to his hearers, and confer an inestimable favor upon weak lungs. Consider the height of the pulpit a perpendicular line, meeting a horizontal base line formed by the floor of the church. Another line, drawn from the top of the perpendicular line representing the height of the pulpit to the seat occupied by the most distant hearer, forms the hypothenuse of a right angled triangle. In proportion therefore as the perpendicular is shortened, the bypothenuse is shortened, and the distant hearer brought nearer to the speaker; and a good deal nearer, if some towering pulpits had their desert. Besides the advantage of being nearer to his audience, the speaker would have a more advantageous position

with respect to the mis-shapen galleries, the usual concomitants of a lofty pulpit, which often break his voice into a fearful number of uncertain sounds, that straggle away to his distant hearers, conveying a false report of his sentiments.

2. Those whose unhappy lot it is to occupy the seats near the base of a high pulpit, are reduced to the alternative of losing sight of the speaker, or of bending their necks into an unnatural posture, in order to fix their eyes upon him. If he chance to be a popular preacher it is a great loss, and a piece of incivility besides, not to give him the attention of the eyes.

3. The high pulpit removes the speaker so far from his hearers that he loses that feeling of familiarity which is necessary to awaken his own feelings and those of his audience. Distance also partially interrupts, that mysterious interchange of feeling which is produced by the glow of the countenance and the fire of the eye. It is well known that the preacher, and every public speaker, will be more animated when he is in the midst of his hearers than he can be at a distance from them. Every starting tear attracts his notice, the expression of every countenance kindles his feelings, and he imparts and receives that impulse which is the soul of eloquence. This is one grand reason that conference preaching has a superiority over the high-pulpit preaching. In the former case the speaker comes in contact with his hearers. He meets their eyes and glowing countenances. In the latter case he is so far removed that the effect of sympathy is sensibly diminished. We perceive the reason too that it is so much easier to extemporize in a lecture room, than it is from the pulpit high in the air. Of all positions for an extempore preacher, that of a high pulpit is the worst that could be devised. When a comparison is made between the eloquence of the bar and the pulpit,

the advantage of position which the advocate decidedly has over the preacher ought to be taken into the account. If the lawyer were obliged to address the court from a high rostrum, he would find the difference between such a position and the one that he now occupies.

The last, though not least objec tion which I make to a high pulpit is the effect it produces upon a man of feeble health, or delicate nerves. It is with a kind of shivering horror, that he looks over the precipice of his high station. He almost imagines that he is looking down from the battlements of a tower.

2. The location of the pulpit. It is not important in what part of the church the desk is located except in one respect. If the slips front the pulpit, which they ought always to do, and if the doors of the church are in the rear of the slips; every lonterer who merely steps in to satisfy his curiosity as to the style and popularity of the preacher, or if this be previously ascertained, purposely saves himself the tedium of the whole service, the audience are obliged to turn round in order to see who it is that comes in so late. If this happens frequently, it is a grievous annoyance to the preacher. The pulpit, therefore ought to be placed between the two doors of the church, or if there be but one, by the side of it, that the seats fronting both the pulpit and doors may save the audience the trouble of moving round to notice what stranger, or tardy hearer, or new hat and feathers, breaks in upon the stillness of the worship.

3. The structure of the pulpit. I must ask pardon of my readers, if on this topic I should happen to give vent to a few humorous and even splenetic remarks. I can imagine no assignable reason why the pulpit should borrow its torm, and fashion from a tub Whether the ancient veneration of tubs must be ascribed to a regard for the philosopher Diogenes I know not, but there seems to

have been some powerful reasons in the minds of our fathers for constructing their pulpits in the form of that philosopher's habitation. Even those who have ventured to make an innovation upon the long established custom of giving the pulpit a tub-like appearance, have made but half a reformation. But without enquiring into the sanctity or antiquity of this custom, I shall take the liberty to state some objections to the fashion of the whole tub and the half tub. They immure the speaker to the very elbows, and how can he be otherwise than awkward? He has no room to stir and his gestures can be little more than raising his hands and laying them down again upon the cushion. But what is most griveous of all, he frequently finds a long bible, that must be nicely balanced on the narrow rim of the pulpit, and he must not be too theatrical in his manner, or it will plunge into the abyss below. Now if the preacher uses notes, and, at the risk of losing all popularity, I aver that he ought sometimes so to do-if he uses notes, and is not well skilled in balancing, and besides is theatrical in his manner, he must hold his bible fast with one hand and gesture with the other. And sometimes also it

happens that the tub is supported so slenderly that there is danger of its rolling off with its nerve-shaking occupant. The reader will probably smile, and possibly may be offended at these free remarks. But if he bas for some time been a preacher, he will be ready to acknowledge that there is more truth than humour in them. To bring the subject to a conclusion then, in more serious language, I trust that it will be admitted that some important facts have been stated respecting the inconvenience of the ancient pulpit, arising from its altitude, location, and structure. And I cannot but think that among the various expedients devised for rendering the preacher more animated, a convenient pulpit holks a conspicuous

place. The object of this article is to turn the attention of the public to the great inconveniences of the ancient pulpit. It is quite too high, and in every respect is miserably adapted, both to the speaker and his audience. The evils which have been pointed out are removed, partially at least, by the modern style of church and pulpit building, but why not lay the hand of reformation upon the antiquated pulpit? The expense is trifling, and the pulpit is so defended from the weather that time will make but a tardy progress in removing the evil. As the occapants of the desk are more immediately concerned in this subject, I trust they will give it some at tention. For their sakes chiefly I have written, and shall therefore name this production a

Concio ad Clerum.

To the Editor of the Christian Spectator. A recent number of a certain religious magazine which I have long been accustomed to regard as among the very first periodicals in our country, contains a review of a late Sermon on the Atonement, written for the most part with great judgment, and throughout with an excellent spirit.

In the course of the article, however, I meet with the following sentence, respecting which I beg leave to ask a question or two.

"In like manner he who is afraid to bring up his doctrine to the full length and breadth of scripture language and ideas, and to say that Christ bore our sins in his own body on the tree, that he suffered for us (in our stead) the just for the unjust, that he was made a sin-offering for us, that he paid the price of our redemption, and satisfied di

vine justice, he who is afraid to use expressions of this sort, aims to be more cautious in his language than the Author of the Bible, and, in effect, strips the doctrine of atonement of all that gives hope, inspires confidence, calls forth gratitude and love; in a word of all that adapts this doctrine to the condition of sinners such as we are."

Now, Mr. Editor, as the writer, if I understand him, undertakes to specify what he means by the full length and breadth of scripture language and ideas," and as the expression "satisfied divine justice" is not to be found in my Bible, it seems to me that he employs that expression to denote some scripture idea;" and I therefore beg to be informed, if any man can tell me, first, what is that "scripture idea" expressed as directly and precisely as may be; and secondly, what is the scripture language" in which the "Author of the Bible" has seen fit to express it.

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This phraseology is not new to me. I have heard it from the pulpit a thousand times, and in six hundred of those instances it was evidently employed, as a multitude of common-place phrases are employed, without any very distinct apprehension of its meaning. But its occurrence in this connexion is in some respects peculiar, and it leads me to propose another and a more general enquiry :

How far does the perpetual abstraction and personification of justice, and mercy, and law,-making them all so many distinct and independent beings,-tend to promote correctness of conception, or conclusiveness of argument, in writers and talkers on the doctrine of atonement?

JONATHAN,