But

question then is, how much and how little form is needed in the public worship of God? The general testimony of the New Testament is certainly in favour of simple forms of worship-of the simplest framework required to sustain the tender plants of devotion, lest they be trampled in the mire of common things, and no longer shoot upward in the light and sunshine of heaven. But in the New Testament itself there is evidence of considerable variety in the matter of form, and the whole subject of public worship was evidently left pretty much to the needs and will of the churches, or of those who presided over them. But towards the close of the Apostolic period we have the fact developed that there was something like a regularly organized public service of God, consisting of distinct parts, and special directions are given in the later epistles respecting the order of exercises, the whole course of public worship, and the behaviour of those engaged in it. In writings both sacred and profane, immediately succeeding the Apostolic age, the same fact is confirmed, until the period when form usurped the place of spirit, and worship became utterly corrupted. But we will not go over the historical ground. We would only say a word in regard to the Lord's Supper, which has been sometimes thought to be the historic germ of all Christian public worship. this can hardly be, for there is strong proof that when it was celebrated every time Christians met together, and every day by the Church of Jerusalem, it was then connected with the "Agapæ," or "Feasts of Love," and was not therefore strictly to be considered as forming a part of Divine worship; but it was rather a feast of Christian love and friendship in which Christ formed one-a simple continuation of the first supper, only recognizing Christ in a more formal manner as the real bond of love and friendship. We do not believe that an argument can be drawn from this that the Lord's Supper ought to be looked upon as the sole originating cause or centre of Christian worship, or that it should be celebrated every Sunday. The historian Cave, it is true, takes the ground, that the growing laxness in celebrating the Lord's Supper, first every Sabbath, then every month, then every two months, is evidence of the gradual decline of faith in the primitive Church. But even in Justin Martyr's day, we find that the Lord's Supper was already separated from the "Feasts of Love," and did not therefore form the direct object or occasion of every assemblage together of Christians, whether for social purposes or worship. This very idea, however, seized upon by the Romish Church, of clustering everything about the Eucharist, has led to the Romish superstition of the Mass, and in fact to the whole vast system

and structure of the Romish Church. The Lord's Supper is undoubtedly the highest and tenderest act of Christian public worship, but it is not the only, or even the seminal act of all Christian public worship, nor do we believe that our Lord would wish it to be so regarded.

Some kind of outward formal worship is then to be considered as essential. Even Quakers admit this by their coming together in regular places of solemn assembly. Every Christian body or denomination has its regular form of public worship just as truly as the Roman Catholics or Episcopalians have theirs. Our Congregational worship is as much a form as that of any other Christian body, only a much simpler, and, as we hold, more scriptural form. In many instances we have even fixed forms of words, though taken from the Bible, as in our benedictions and formulas for baptism and the Lord's Supper. There is a strong tendency to run our very prayers into set forms of words, showing that there is a certain current toward permanent methods of expression even in the freest systems of worship.

The question next arises, what kind of formal public worship (humanly speaking) is best adapted to meet the true ends of worship, to produce, sustain, and develop the spirit of praise, and the feeling of true devotion and adoration?

There are, it seems to us, three great principles drawn from our mental constitution, that should enter into the actual operation or carrying out of all true Christian public worship of God. The first of these, which is not only a natural but a scriptural principle, is order. While we continue to be infirm, imperfect, irregular, semi-sensual beings, there should be surely, for such weak creatures, an invariable element in worship. And even when we become perfect beings in heaven (if so be this is granted us), there probably we shall find the same grand law of order. This is the same principle that manifests itself in the regular recurrence of the Sabbath, in the periodic celebration of the Lord's Supper, in the repetition of the fixed order of service whatever it may be, in the rehearsing of the doxology and benediction. The liturgical churches have certainly appreciated this simple law of our mental being-order, uniformity-and made more of it than we do. Their forms of worship are a fixed quantity. Might we not make more use of this principle? Might we not avail ourselves of the treasures of what is old-of praise, prayer, and song gathered in past ages-and not have the desire so strongly and often painfully excited to produce so much that is new and varied at every service? There should be in every form of worship, however simple, some permanent basis, something of the old, the familiar, and the invariable,

some worn pathway for the feet of simple worshippers to tread in. The next great principle is that of freedom, or spontaneity, which is the peculiar glory and beauty of our own unliturgical form of worship. This is an essential element of all true worship. It forms a chief element of its life and power. Where there is no freedom of intercourse with God, no individuality of thought or desire, no opportunity for the expression of present want, sorrow, temptation, thankfulness, then how can there be any living truth in worship, or any real communication established between God and the soul? The last principle which we would mention is union, or fellowship, in a word the social principle, which cannot for a moment be lost sight of in the great common act of Public Worship. When we worship by ourselves the more solitary we are the better, and we should "shut to the door" and be alone with "our Father which seeth in secret ;" but when a multitude worship together in the common name of Christ, then the principle of individualism should merge itself into the higher principle of Christian love and communion. All that tends truly to unite many hearts in one act of devotion, to make them flow together in one common channel, aids true public worship. It is here perhaps that the greatest want of our Congregational form of worship is sometimes felt. Even in the sanctuary of our common Lord we are apt to remain too independent of each other, too individual, too much broken up into separate fragments. One member is unpenetrated by the devotional feeling which glows in the heart of his next neighbour, and the whole mass is not sufficiently fused and made one. We have certainly more of intellectual, than of apparently simple, heartfelt, affectionate life, in our public religious exercises. It is with us the idea of the knowledge of God, rather than the love of God and of one another. It is the edifying rather than the purely devotional element. Vinet says: "As for us, our worship is too much a confession of faith-a discourse; everything is articulate, everything is precise, everything explains itself. The effect of this tendency has gone so far as to determine the idea we have formed of temples. We regard temples as a place for hearing. We go to them to hear some one speak." He says again: "Preaching has its place under the Gospel, but it does not suffocate worship. Our word is a prism which decomposes the light." He means by this, we suppose, that preaching is analytic and addressed principally to the understanding; whereas he would have more of the simplicity of feeling, contemplation, and trust, in worship. As to the worship of the primitive church, Vinet says: "It seems to have been a medium between preaching and

devotion. We see in it nothing of the anxious precision of a confession of faith, nothing of the profusion of rites of the Romish Church." We have introduced these quotations to show that in the worship of the reformed Swiss and French Churches very closely resembling our own, something of the same want is evidently experienced.

Some intelligent and pious men declare that our Congregational worship does not fully satisfy them, their sympaties or tastes; and hence they feel that they cannot develop themselves or their spiritual life with perfect freedom and happiness within our system. Whether these persons find the perfect satisfaction that they anticipate in the Episcopal Church, and the opportunity to make more rapid advance intellectually and spiritually, is another question but it must be conceded that if our own system cannot satisfy all the needs of man's nature in its worship, and cannot unite "all the elements of his being," all his powers and sympathies and affections in the act of praise, then there must be some deficiency.

:

It is possible, we think, for us to profit from whatever of good there is in a form of worship which is even the most totally unlike our own, without becoming Episcopalians, or believing with Dr. South, that there is but one prayer lacking in the Prayer Book, and that is that the Prayer Book itself should continue to be used in public worship for ever!

It is sometimes said by us, and oftener perhaps thought, that there can be little true worship under the Episcopalian form, because it is nothing but a form; yet devout Episcopalians, we believe, can maintain the genuine attractions of that form of worship to the pious mind from some such reasons as these-that the Episcopal liturgy is admirably fitted to meet the religious sympathies of all classes of worshippers, as presenting, mostly in Scriptural language (whence its much lauded beauty), an embodiment of the great truths of the Christian faith, such as the Incarnation, the Atonement, the Resurrection, Repentance, Forgiveness-holding up those truths plainly to the view of all so as to enkindle religious feelings; and that in the regular recurrence of these words of faith, and petitions for common wants, both temporal and spiritual, there is devotional power. Here is the law of uniformity of which we have spoken. We talk of how touching are old hymns, and of the influence of familiar words of the Bible, and of the moving nature of old scenes and places, and in the same way devout feeling runs along more easily in familiar words of prayer and praise. Then there is the social element in Episcopal worship, the diffusion of the social principle, giving all something to do, uniting all the congregation

in the responses and singing. We have no doubt that many pious minds do more readily worship God in the channels of these liturgical forms, when they have been educated from childhood to do so, than they could in our mode or any other mode. We are also equally open to see the marked deficiencies in the Episcopal mode of worship. The liturgical part of the service is far too long, and does not allow room for the faithful preaching of the Gospel. It thrusts it into a corner. It makes it a subordinate thing. Then, too, the absence of the spontaneous element is an almost fatal defect. This gives little opportunity for spiritual growth, for the expression of new truth or fresh feeling, and for the satisfying of the emergencies of the present. It fixes the mind on the past-on the faith of the founders of the Church, or the makers of the liturgy. It tends thus to narrow religious life, and to lead it to want no more religion than can be found in the Prayer Book. And there is, above all, the dangerous temptation to rest in the written form, and to think that when the prescribed words of devotion are uttered and the service gone through with, that one has truly worshipped and the duty is accomplished-that one has done his devotions. As a matter of taste, also, while the responses and chants are extremely devotional, and have moreover the authority of great antiquityeven Justin Martyr himself speaks of the litany being responded to by the whole people-the practice of alternate readings of the Scriptures by the pastor and people is not so ancient, nor is it so impressive, and the sense of Scripture is utterly confused and destroyed by it. Nevertheless may we not at least study with profit the Episcopal form of worship for its propriety, its dignity, its solemnity, its rich flavour of antiquity, and its social element?

The following general conclusions, we think, should, first of all, be admitted and firmly settled in our minds as Congregational Christians-viz., that our Congregational form of worship is a genuine form of public worship, is a true historic "cultus," however simple, and that it combines most if not all of the great essential elements of a true Christian public worship; also, that as nothing human is perfect, our form of worship, like others, may in some respects be incomplete-may lack some subordinate elements of power, may still be open here and there to improvement, or at least to development, without at the same time losing its great distinctive characteristics; also, that any improvement or reformation which may be needed is not to be made by giving up our Congregational form of worship, by surrendering its historic and characteristic order, which is as true a product of the religious feeling and thought of centuries as any other form of public