wegians to govern themselves has been put, has had a very gratify ing result. Though they are removed from the highways of European intelligence; though numbers of them live in lonely valleys, where perhaps the only stranger the year round is some Englishman, who comes to fish and be bitten by the musquitoes; yet they appear to be far in advance of their neighbors in the art of government, however inferior to them in education. In 1814, when Denmark and Norway were disunited, the national debt was equitably divided between the two countries. Since that time Norway has been gradually extinguish ing her debt, until in 1837 only about three millions of dollars were due; while the debt of Denmark has swollen to one hundred and twentyseven millions of rix dollars Danish. In consequence of this, all direct taxes on land have been removed, the indirect being found sufficient to cover the expenses of gov. ernment. Education has received the attention of the storthing. The present system has grown up under the new constitution, and being thorough as well as compulsory, promises to extend a sound education through the remotest valleys of this interesting country.* "With their minute economy," says Mr. Laing, "they have accomplished much in twenty-one years, and it is not a parsimony equally blind to all objects. They have provided liberally for some things which we would not expect to find proposed or favored in a parliament so constituted; a steam-vessel for instance to ply between Drontheim and Hammersfest, which will be the first appearance of steam-power within the arctic circle; a grant for enabling students and men of science to trav. el for improvement in foreign coun⚫ tries; a grant for establishing schools

of design for mechanics, and for gradually forming a collection of works of art connected with that object; grants to the university, its library and museum; a grant for a seminary for forming schoolmasters-these objects liberally provided for, considering the means of the country, show no unenlightened spirit; no inaptitude at least in the storthing to adopt the enlightened views of its most cultivated members." The bank of Norway is another fruit of the storthing's legisla tion. Its capital was raised by a tax on landed property in 1816, and the proprietors of estates hold shares according to the proportion of their contributions. Beside discounting mercantile notes, the bank lends on land up to two thirds of its value, according to a valuation made in 1812. The borrower pays four per cent. per annum, and five per cent. yearly of the principal until the debt is extinguished. And to mention but one measure more, the storthing last year, as we are informed, paved the way for stopping distillation through the country, being alarmed no doubt by the results of the free use of finkel, or potato spirits, upon the people. To this gratifying measure they were led, in all probability, by the light which our useful countryman Mr. Baird has been the means of diffusing in the northern parts of Europe, on the subject of intemperance.

It would be in order now to inquire into the social, moral, and religious condition of Norway, and into the causes which have made them what they are. The state of society on the whole would open before us in no very unfavorable light, even if we should not be disposed to go all the way with Mr. Laing in his unqualified praise of this country. Yet we should find dark shades in the picture arising from the formality and insufficiency of the religious establishment, from the habits of the people in regard

to strong drink and other demorali zing causes. The influence in favor of sound morals, would seem to arise to a considerable degree from the old institutions of the country, and from the simplicity of manners which small estates, a climate uncongenial with self-gratification, and general equality of condition, have occasioned. But we must dismiss these interesting topics for want of room, and hasten to a conclusion.

And we wish to give it as our closing remark, that Norway is fortunate indeed in having its free institutions rise naturally out of its history-in growing ripe for freedom -instead of being lifted high on a sudden flood of liberty, for which there was no preparation, and of which there could be no assured continuance. Just as our liberties were substantially as old as the landing at Plymouth, and the declaration of independence was the mere bursting of the bud into flower at the right season; just so, it would seem, the Norwegians have been trained for freedom, and therefore

excite a rational hope that they will neither sink below the proper level of freemen, nor fail of attaining those high social and moral ends to which freedom is the door. A nation numbering more than forty thousand land-owners, when the population was not a million, and accustoming its citizens to interpret the laws and consider the relations of life in the office of jurymen,—such a nation has opened a school where men can hardly fail of learning to govern themselves. Happy the nation where the foundations of liberty are laid deep in the past; where its soil has been gathering for ages; where men to be free need not forget or be ashamed of their ancestors, and do not grow up with a servile look upon their faces, as though they remembered having been slaves. May Norway be blessed of heaven with the spread of spiritual religion, sound learning, and pure morals; and may it be a northern light-not flickering and uncertain, but fixed and brightening-in the sky of Europe.

It was the intention of the divine founder of our faith, that Christianity should have a universal adaptation to the wants and circumstances of mankind; and that it should actually be diffused throughout all nations, and be perpetuated to the latest periods of the world.

To give it such an adaptation, He embodied in its system of doctrine and of duty, those great essential truths and principles which apply to man as man, whenever and wherever he is found. Hence, the reverse of Judaism, which was national and local, Christianity does really commend itself to the moral feelings and convictions of univer

sal humanity; and thus, in its own nature, tends to the subversion of all other schemes, to the overthrow of infidelity itself, and to the establishment of its own authority in the hearts of the whole human race.

But this moral fitness, and consequent diffusive tendency of the religion of the gospel, by no means supersedes the necessity of instrumental agencies in order to secure its general dissemination, and for the purpose of pressing home its claims, where it has been received, upon the consciences of men. And admirable is the wisdom with which the author of Christianity has made perpetual provision for this neces

sity in the institution of the church, with her ordinances and ministry. He has thus, in a moral sense, established a standing army, with ample resources and the requisite discipline and officers, commissioned to overturn the empire of sin and error on the earth, and charged to prosecute the enterprise, until a complete victory has been achieved. The ministry, under the divinely constituted system of human instrumentality, holds, it is obvious, a prominent and most important place. It is a part of the economy so essential, that very much in proportion as it performs its functions well or ill, will the working of the whole be successful or embarrassed. Whatever has a bearing on the right discharge of ministerial duty, must be regarded as of the first importance by all who desire the prosperity of true religion. The more fully the sacred office is made to answer its design, the more rapid may we expect will be the coming of the divine kingdom. In suggesting some thoughts in relation to the position and duties of the Chris tian ministry at the present time, we shall have special reference to our own country; in which, in its peculiar duties, it is independent of the civil power, and must always owe its influence to the fidelity with which it fulfills its divine commission.

We shall confine ourselves to what is peculiar in the position which the Christian ministry occupies at the present time. Of those particulars in which it holds essentially the same attitude from age to age, we shall have no occasion to take notice. The ministry, while it is a permanent and divinely instituted order in the church of God, and in this respect can know no change, is also, as to its position, related to the times in which it is called to exercise its functions. The circumstances of one age demand in it a cast of character and a mode of effort materially different from those

which are demanded by another; since the condition and the movements of the human mind in one generation are often widely different, perhaps the very opposite, from what they were in the generation which preceded. And no one can go forth as a herald of the cross, with enlightened views of what he has to do, until he has rightly understood how the general duties of his office require to be modified in view of the existing aspects and tendencies of society.

Let us first look at the present position of the ministry as affected by the condition of the popular intellect. That our times are marked with strong peculiarities in this respect, is an obvious fact. We need not make the empty boast that ours is the golden age, or flatter ourselves that wisdom was born with us. We claim only what we concede to every former period, when we assert that ours has an intellectual condition which is distinctively its own. Whether, upon the whole, we are wiser or less wise than the generations which have lived before us, it is of no moment to decide. Other ages have witnessed the triumph of human genius, in arts, letters, and philosophy. The page of history exhibits no lack of illustrious names. The libraries in which the treasures of wisdom which enriched other periods of the world are garnered up, afford abundant and convincing proof that thinking men have lived before us. Yet that there is at the present day a universality of education, a general diffusion of the means of intellectual gratification and improvement, and an activity of the common mind, such as the world has never seen before, is universally conceded. It is not now the few who are well informed and the many who are ignorant, but exactly the reverse. It is not certain selected parts of knowledge merely, which are now deemed of interest to the people.

Almost all really important branches, on the contrary, are made extensively accessible to every class. Intelligence is continually poured from the fountain-heads into a thousand channels, which wind their way throughout society, affording liberal supplies even to the most remote. And the professionally learned owe their superiority to others, not to any secrets which are kept within their order; not to any stores which are accessible only to them; but simply to their more thorough and vigorous self-discipline, more patient study, and more extensive and diligent research.

From this state of things two consequences result, which intimately concern the Christian minister as officially a public teacher.

The

first is, that the popular taste is rendered in a high degree fastidious. The task of presenting truth in such a manner as to command attention and awaken interest, becomes extremely difficult. The hungry man will regale himself on plain substantial food; but he who has a rich variety of delicacies at his command, and who has also fixed the habit of luxurious living, must tempt his appetite with savory dishes. Even so the hungry mind will feast on solid truth, and with the keener sense because of its simplicity. But the mind that has before it a thou sand intellectual dainties, and that has lost its healthfulness of tone by constant and infinitely varied gratifications, retains no relish for simpler and more wholesome banquets, and can enjoy only what is highly spiced with wit, anecdote, or fancy. Human invention, it would seem, has done its utmost, not only to supply the means of intellectual gratification, but also to adapt them to the wants, and even to the caprices of all classes. It has wrought history into gorgeous fictions, and thrown the attractive drapery of fiction around history. It has imparted the life and grace of poetry to the com

mon and prosaic, and heightened the effect of the poetical by the richest grouping and coloring of the imagination. It has gathered materials from nature and from art; from science and from philosophy; from the deep inworkings of the human soul, and from the high endeavors and noble deeds of goodness; and even from the waywardness of evil passion, and the desperate misdoings of villainy itself. And hence there are few whose minds are not continually supplied with something which can stimulate the mental ap petite however languid, and please the taste however capricious or pe culiar. Of course it is but natural, that those who are thus pampered should be destitute of relish for plain and sober themes, where passionate expressions and startling paradox would be wholly out of place.

The other of the two consequen ces mentioned as resulting from the present intellectual state of the popular mind, is a conceited, self-sufficient spirit. If in all past time the diffusion of the means of knowledge had been general, it might not now have been attended with this incidental evil. But it is something new, and the fact that the great mass of society find themselves in possession of advantages which have not hitherto been generally enjoyed; that they know something on vari ous subjects which in other days were confined exclusively to the learned; and that the way is open for them to make still more extensive acquisitions if they will, begets feelings of superiority and self-es teem; for men are generally far more ready to value themselves on what they know than to be humbled at the thought of their remaining ignorance. It is not in this class or in that, particularly, that a vain and self-exalting temper betrays itself. There is something sophomorical in the general spirit of society. Men are pleased with their own intelligence and sagacity, and in no way

distinguished for the old fashioned virtue of meekness and docility of mind. Some are so jealous of their mental independence, that in their desire to evince it, they often show that they want the virtue altogether. Some are so much afraid of pinning their faith upon authority, and taking opinions upon trust, that they dare not rely on the word of God himself, nor yield belief to evidence which is perfectly conclusive. The imaginations of some are haunted with the fear of priestly domination, and they persuade themselves that ministers consent to stand in the place of the servant of servants, to be hard worked and poorly paid, to be brought to an early grave by incessant anxieties and cares, and to leave their families without provision to the charities of the world, and look for reward only in heaven, just for the pleasure of managing the people, and seeing them priestridden. While some who think better of the hearts of the clergy than of their heads, are sure that they would be a very useful sort of persons, if they would only listen to the good advice which they, in their wisdom, kindly offer to impart.

And

It is true that, notwithstanding the prevalence of this over nice and self-sufficient temper, there are examples, and many such, of sound and healthful intellect, and of candor and humility, those attributes of real greatness. But the Christian minister must count on finding the general state of the popular mind, such as has been described. how shall he operate on such materials? How can he so adapt himself to those for whom he is sent to labor, as to make his influence reach them? The task is difficult; yet unless he can accomplish it, his care and toil are lost. If he can not gain a hearing, inspire confidence, and command respect for himself and for his message, it is nothing that his doctrines are important, his motives pure, and his labors dili

gent. The ends of his ministry are not attained. It is vain to complain of the existing state of things. It is worse than vain to disregard it, and to proceed as though it were the reverse of what it is. It will not do to say, as some lazy preachers have done, that hearers ought not to heed so much the style of the discourse, and the manner of the speaker. The simple fact is, that if the experiment were made, of preaching the noble sermons of President Edwards, of Howe, or even of Barrow himself, to the best New England congregation, such is the popular taste, that the house would probably soon exhibit an array of empty pews. Nor will a discourse of Massillon or Saurin, or the most finished and tasteful modern sermon that can be found, fare greatly better, if delivered in tame, monotonous, and unimpassioned tones. However it may have been in other days, there must at present, be something besides good matter, and even well constructed sermons, to render preaching really efficient.

Shall then the preacher aim to suit the whims of a capricious taste? Shall he trim, to please the captious, and take lessons of the self-complacent? Shall he labor to transform the simple dignity of truth into the dazzling brilliancy of Bulwer, the quaint and startling affectations of Carlyle, or the gorgeousness of Chateaubriand and Lamartine? Shall he give eclat to his address, by employing the flourish and trick of the declaimer? These things he can not attempt to do, unless false to his high commission; and the attempt were certainly a failure. There is a better method of accomplishing what he desires. It is possible, notwithstanding the peculiar state of the general mind, to preach the gospel with success. But he who would be a successful preacher, must bring into the pulpit vigorous and well trained faculties. He must have a versatility which can adapt