applied to the discharge of his official duties, but it indirectly aids them; it gives him admission to those who otherwise would be inaccessible; conciliates the respect of those who would otherwise despise him; and above all, renders him an object of vastly increased reverence to the mass of his common hearers. It imparts weight and importance also to his judgment on matters which, though not immediately connected with the pulpit, are by no means unconnected with human happiness, or with the progress of religion; and in these days, when, as already said, so much of the good that is to be done must be done out of the pulpit, no one of common sense will think this a slight advantage. It is of no use for us to chafe at what are the fundamental laws of all human society; God has so constituted it, that the influence of men over the higher ranks, and still more over the lower, will ever be in proportion, not to their moral excellence alone, but to the degree in which that excellence is associated with a reputation for solid judgment and a mature knowledge.

In order to secure to the full the benefits of such a system of training, it is absolutely necessary that the student should not be permitted to preach too soon or too often during his academical career. This we consider a vital point, and shall therefore dwell upon it at some length. Far be it from us to deny that it is absolutely necessary that in some shape or other he should be familiarized with what are afterwards to be his great duties, long before he leaves college. It is most desirable that he should be accustomed to exercise his talents for public speaking, both that he may gradually attain self-possession, command of language, and facility of utterance; and, what is still more important, that he may be continually impressed with a salutary remembrance of what is after all the great, the avowed end of all his studies and all his pursuits. But then, as this is the object of these engagements, so they should not be more numerous than is necessary to secure it. If there be institutions which have erred in not letting students preach enough, there have been others which have erred to an equal extent in suffering them to preach too much.

In the first place, if the term of study be six years, and the student enter young, as in that case he would, it appears absolutely necessary that he should confine himself exclusively to study during at least the first two years. It is only in this way that he can be subjected to that continuous application, the object of which is to form those habits of mind which we have already described as so valuable, and in fact as the great end of academical discipline. If his pursuits be at this period often intruded upon, if he be called off from them to prepare prematurely for public engagements, his attention is dissipated by variety of objects; he gets

into a slovenly way of doing things, of doing them not as well as he could, but as well as time permits, while from being obliged frequently to intermit his proper studies, there are breaks and chasms in them, which he has no time to supply. In such a case, both sound discipline and accurate knowledge are out of the question, since both depend upon concentration and continuity of effort exerted upon some few pursuits for a certain period of time. We speak that we 'do know, and we testify that we have seen.' A student, at an early period of his career, is informed that he is to preach three times on the following sabbath, some thirty miles from the scene of his studies. He has but two sermons in the world—perhaps but one; and, now trembling with fear, now elated with hope, he hastens to make some preparation for the work, certainly to the partial, perhaps total neglect of his present studies for a day or two. Or, it may be, he has preached at the same place before, and having become, therefore, a bankrupt in sermons, is necessitated to give a still larger portion of time to some sort of preparation. He spends a part of the Saturday in preparing for his journey, and in travelling to his destination. As yet unaccustomed to the labors of the pulpit, a sabbath is to him a day of intense excitement, and severe effort of mind, terminating in deep exhaustion. He spends a portion of the Monday in travelling back to his college, and arrives there so jaded and wearied in body and in mind, as to be little fit for any thing that day, and not fit for very much the next; perhaps also with some little disrelish for those silent and recluse studies which have only prospective utility to recommend them, utility which from his very inexperience he is unable fully to appreciate, and is therefore too apt to underrate; studies, too, which are attended with no present excitement, and with no flattering though dangerous gratulations. If the courses of study which he has been thus compelled to intermit or partially to neglect be closely connected in their several parts-as for instance, the Mathematics, Logic, or Mental Philosophy, or certain departments of Theology, he has not vigor, or even time enough satisfactorily to make good by his own unaided efforts the gap which his engagements have occasioned, and at the same time to keep pace with the progress of the class. The consequence is that those portions of the courses in question are never satisfactorily mastered; while, from the manner in which they are interwoven with all the rest, the remainder is also necessarily acquired in a perfunctory and slovenly manner; and thus the student arrives at its termination not only with that mere smattering of the subject, which is worse than no knowledge at all, but without that benefit of mental discipline which would have resulted from thoroughly mastering it, and which is in some cases the only sufficient reason for paying any attention to it at all. We

applied to the discharge of his official duties, but it indirectly aids them; it gives him admission to those who otherwise would be inaccessible; conciliates the respect of those who would otherwise despise him; and above all, renders him an object of vastly increased reverence to the mass of his common hearers. It imparts weight and importance also to his judgment on matters which, though not immediately connected with the pulpit, are by no means unconnected with human happiness, or with the progress of religion; and in these days, when, as already said, so much of the good that is to be done must be done out of the pulpit, no one of common sense will think this a slight advantage. It is of no use for us to chafe at what are the fundamental laws of all human society; God has so constituted it, that the influence of men over the higher ranks, and still more over the lower, will ever be in proportion, not to their moral excellence alone, but to the degree in which that excellence is associated with a reputation for solid judgment and a mature knowledge.

In order to secure to the full the benefits of such a system of training, it is absolutely necessary that the student should not be permitted to preach too soon or too often during his academical career. This we consider a vital point, and shall therefore dwell upon it at some length. Far be it from us to deny that it is absolutely necessary that in some shape or other he should be familiarized with what are afterwards to be his great duties, long before he leaves college. It is most desirable that he should be accustomed to exercise his talents for public speaking, both that he may gradually attain self-possession, command of language, and facility of utterance; and, what is still more important, that he may be continually impressed with a salutary remembrance of what is after all the great, the avowed end of all his studies and all his pursuits. But then, as this is the object of these engagements, so they should not be more numerous than is necessary to secure it. If there be institutions which have erred in not letting students preach enough, there have been others which have erred to an equal extent in suffering them to preach too much.

In the first place, if the term of study be six years, and the student enter young, as in that case he would, it appears absolutely necessary that he should confine himself exclusively to study during at least the first two years. It is only in this way that he can be subjected to that continuous application, the object of which is to form those habits of mind which we have already described as so valuable, and in fact as the great end of academical discipline. If his pursuits be at this period often intruded upon, if he be called off from them to prepare prematurely for public engagements, his attention is dissipated by variety of objects; he gets

into a slovenly way of doing things, of doing them not as well as he could, but as well as time permits, while from being obliged frequently to intermit his proper studies, there are breaks and chasms in them, which he has no time to supply. In such a case, both sound discipline and accurate knowledge are out of the question, since both depend upon concentration and continuity of effort exerted upon some few pursuits for a certain period of time. We speak that we 'do know, and we testify that we have seen.' A student, at an early period of his career, is informed that he is to preach three times on the following sabbath, some thirty miles from the scene of his studies. He has but two sermons in the world-perhaps but one; and, now trembling with fear, now elated with hope, he hastens to make some preparation for the work, certainly to the partial, perhaps total neglect of his present studies for a day or two. Or, it may be, he has preached at the same place before, and having become, therefore, a bankrupt in sermons, is necessitated to give a still larger portion of time to some sort of preparation. He spends a part of the Saturday in preparing for his journey, and in travelling to his destination. As yet unaccustomed to the labors of the pulpit, a sabbath is to him a day of intense excitement, and severe effort of mind, terminating in deep exhaustion. He spends a portion of the Monday in travelling back to his college, and arrives there so jaded and wearied in body and in mind, as to be little fit for any thing that day, and not fit for very much the next; perhaps also with some little disrelish for those silent and recluse studies which have only prospective utility to recommend them, utility which from his very inexperience he is unable fully to appreciate, and is therefore too apt to underrate; studies, too, which are attended with no present excitement, and with no flattering though dangerous gratulations. If the courses of study which he has been thus compelled to intermit or partially to neglect be closely connected in their several parts-as for instance, the Mathematics, Logic, or Mental Philosophy, or certain departments of Theology, he has not vigor, or even time enough satisfactorily to make good by his own unaided efforts the gap which his engagements have occasioned, and at the same time to keep pace with the progress of the class. The consequence is that those portions of the courses in question are never satisfactorily mastered; while, from the manner in which they are interwoven with all the rest, the remainder is also necessarily acquired in a perfunctory and slovenly manner; and thus the student arrives at its termination not only with that mere smattering of the subject, which is worse than no knowledge at all, but without that benefit of mental discipline which would have resulted from thoroughly mastering it, and which is in some cases the only sufficient reason for paying any attention to it at all. We

It

applied to the discharge of his official duties, but it indirectly aids them; it gives him admission to those who otherwise would be inaccessible; conciliates the respect of those who would otherwise despise him; and above all, renders him an object of vastly increased reverence to the mass of his common hearers. imparts weight and importance also to his judgment on matters which, though not immediately connected with the pulpit, are by no means unconnected with human happiness, or with the progress of religion; and in these days, when, as already said, so much of the good that is to be done must be done out of the pulpit, no one of common sense will think this a slight advantage. It is of no use for us to chafe at what are the fundamental laws of all human society; God has so constituted it, that the influence of men over the higher ranks, and still more over the lower, will ever be in proportion, not to their moral excellence alone, but to the degree in which that excellence is associated with a reputation for solid judgment and a mature knowledge.

In order to secure to the full the benefits of such a system of training, it is absolutely necessary that the student should not be permitted to preach too soon or too often during his academical career. This we consider a vital point, and shall therefore dwell upon it at some length. Far be it from us to deny that it is absolutely necessary that in some shape or other he should be familiarized with what are afterwards to be his great duties, long before he leaves college. It is most desirable that he should be accustomed to exercise his talents for public speaking, both that he may gradually attain self-possession, command of language, and facility of utterance; and, what is still more important, that he may be continually impressed with a salutary remembrance of what is after all the great, the avowed end of all his studies and all his pursuits. But then, as this is the object of these engagements, so they should not be more numerous than is necessary to secure it. If there be institutions which have erred in not letting students preach enough, there have been others which have erred to an equal extent in suffering them to preach too much.

In the first place, if the term of study be six years, and the student enter young, as in that case he would, it appears absolutely necessary that he should confine himself exclusively to study during at least the first two years. It is only in this way that he can be subjected to that continuous application, the object of which is to form those habits of mind which we have already described as so valuable, and in fact as the great end of academical discipline. If his pursuits be at this period often intruded upon, if he be called off from them to prepare prematurely for public engagements, his attention is dissipated by variety of objects; he gets