they would fain deserve to inherit. No other book, except that to which it is considered as a companion, has a better opportunity to make itself felt, in all its advantages-not only as a guide to devotion, but also as a production of mind. Let it be remembered, too, that it admits the reaction of the mind upon it in both those ways by which genial cultivation is secured. Its outward form, especially when actually used with its proper accompaniments in public worship, strikes us like an object of beauty in Nature, and produces the same state of happy and gentle activity of thought and feeling. Its beauty, indeed, that beauty which is obvious without study or reproductive process-contains a higher efficacy than any object of external nature, combining as it does with the grace of outward form, a grace that springs from the source and subject of the work - a certain pervading spirit, which we feel without knowing from what particular features, single or combined, it proceeds. But, it admits, likewise, of the reproductive reaction of the mind upon it, — of the kind which we have described as appropriate to ritual objects. And both these modes of affecting and employing the mind, have their time for producing their effect singly or together. To the child and youth, the Liturgy presents itself as an object of sacred beauty, to be loved without question or analysis; afterwards, the mind becomes chiefly occupied with the study of its construction, in its history, its aims, its relations; and then it is prepared to react upon it, unconsciously, in either way or both.

Need we ask, then, of any one that has gone with us approvingly thus far, whether our precomposed Form of Prayer is, in regard to the powers employed, in the spirit that breathes through it, and in the fitness of its adaption to the purposes of public worship — an intellectual production of a character sufficiently high, to be a powerful instrument of cultivation in its sphere? It is true, indeed, that while the Prayer Book is as well able to stand by itself, as any book of the kind can be, and must humanize and elevate under any circumstances, it is in some degree dependant upon what we have called its proper accompaniments, for in regard to the Prayer Book, as in regard to every other element of Rituals, it must be remembered that the full and proper effect is modified by the degree in which the actual performance answers to the idea. This, by the way, offers a strong motive to the serious and careful study of Rituals, and of the ideals they were designed to embody. It has also an obvious bearing upon the manner of reading the Liturgy and of

performing Church music. Nor is this dependance of the Prayer Book upon its proper accompaniments a defect. Were this not the case, it would want one merit, which we have supposed it to possess eminently it would not possess that harmony with the other elements of public services, which ought to proceed from being composed in strict relation to its chief purpose, its special destination. A survey of those proper accompaniments will carry us rapidly through the remaining subjects, which we have embraced under the head of "Rituals."

Between all the parts of public worship there should reign a certain harmony, as in relation to all the other ends, so also in particular to that subordinate end we have adverted to in the institution of every thing holy-separation from common and worldly forms and uses. We have neither an ordinary day, nor an ordinary building, nor ordinary and unprepared modes of discoursing concerning religious truth or of presenting our petitions to God. Not only is nothing left to rude nature — not only does the mind go over all with its best power, but it does so with a special end, and shapes every thing to a peculiar form, for its use is peculiar. Suppose, then, that we have a day set apart, a church-edifice made to differ from the dwellings of man in its form, an elaborate discourse, and prayers precomposed, all giving evidence that the separating hand of Holy Art had been employed uniformly throughout-what would a sense of the principle hitherto acted upon, a sense of harmony and propriety, require the garb of the officiating minister to be, who then appears as the servant of God, set apart for sacred offices in such circumstances? While every thing else shuts out all associations with the world, shall he appear in the uniform of the world? Shall his dress carry us back into the daily occupations of worldly life? Shall all else be separate, set apart by peculiarity in form and use, but shall the priest's garment alone remain unsanctified the only discord in this harmony-the only thing untouched in the consecration of human power to the adorning of the services of God? Nay, who can admit a solitary principle, usually recognised, as governing the character of ritual services

if only it be allowed to have the power of a principle — without perceiving and approving the wisdom of the Church in requiring her ministers to wear holy garments during the holy services of holy times-robes, that is, specially and exclusively set apart for holy offices? The end, then, is to put away all worldly associations, and to appear in a garb which has no associations except such as are ecclesiastical and religious. For

this, besides the positive and chief reasons already given, there are others which are merely negative. Hereby, for instance, many unseemly appearances are excluded from the desk and pulpit. One clergyman may choose to retain the oddities of an obsolete costume; another may be ragged or slovenly in his dress; and a third may aim at leading the fashion, as well as the public devotions; all disturbing the associations proper to the time and place. But all these singularities are made one by a common, uniform ecclesiastical garment, which conceals the secular dress.*

And if the decided distinction between preaching and praying, according to the opposite distinctions of their address, is not false because obvious and trite, what could show a sounder judgment and a better application of principle, than to clothe the priest in a becoming ecclesiastical robe of one form (the surplice) as he raises his voice to God in prayer in behalf of the congregation, and to require him to stand before his fellow-men as a preacher in a different garb? For our own part, we cannot blame our Reformers, for so exercising their sense of the beautiful, while carrying out this principle of separation, as to prescribe robes of the more costly stuffs, and graceful in their flowing fulness and heavy folds; while yet they returned to the simplicity of the ancient forms, and banished the various colors and embroidery and jewelled adornment, introduced in later times, after the single purpose of wearing holy garments had been forgotten. Nor shall we fear, lest the presence of objects so simple and grave in their beauty, and of a significance so manifest and so fit — whether they act upon the mind only as graceful forms, or whether they invite to the perception of their use and relations of harmony with the other sanctities of the time and place - should produce other than a cultivating effect, co-operating with the great ends of culture.

But if so, what sense of these reasons, positive or negative, can those clergymen have, who (in their practice) reject the cassock? Is it not evident that the design of concealing the worldly habit is thereby frustrated? Besides, there can be nowhere a more palpably gross violation of mere taste. The unity of the Church habit is completely destroyed. The case is the more flagrant, when (as now and then happens) a young cleric mounts the pulpit, and gives us, as a front view, the full uniform of the " Body Dandiacal," [Cf. the speculations of Professor Teufelsdröck hereon,] contrasted with bands above, and an unaccountable exhibition of big silk sleeves at the sides. To our particular taste the contrast is the harshest conceivable! Moreover, there is no "authority" for the gown and surplice, which does not likewise include the cassock. By this rule, (concerning the soundness of which there can be no doubt, as we conceive,) many who would think a clergyman presentable for rejecting the surplice might find themselves in a like difficulty.

With respect to Church Music and Church Poetry - there is no part of Rituals of which we have need to say less, as to their use, or the character which they ought specially to possess. The use of singing in public worship is always referred, as it should be, to its effect on the mind. Nowhere do the clearest "authority" and the perception of fitness and good results, work together with greater strength and harmony. The general principles, too, that apply to the subject, are almost uniformly admitted, in words at least, if not so much in practice. The chief questions that used to be so hotly discussed, such as, Whether instrumental music were lawfully or properly to be used in Church, and Whether the Organ in particular (being less tainted with depravity than the violin) could be admitted — have been very quietly settled by the practice of the majority of the religious world, at least in this country. "Meeting-houses" have come to call themselves "Churches," with a perfect oblivion apparently on the part of the present generation how offensive such a change of designation would have been to the Mathers and Chaunceys of a former generation. The studied perversity, too, of the old barn-like form, after mounting a steeple and passing through other changes, is showing a disposition to slip into the "Babylonish" Gothic; the pulpit is now and then blackened with gown and cassock; and the organ has crawled into the gallery over the back of the violoncello which had previously after long repudiation gained admission.* There remains nothing for us to say, therefore, in vindication of any thing peculiar to the Church in poetry and music, (for even chanting is heard elsewhere now,) and the more particular discussion of minor conditions arising out of the relations to culture, must be reserved for another occasion.

The same may be said with respect to Church Architecture. We have already shown, by way of anticipation, that the architectural character of the church-edifice ought to join with the other elements of Rituals in aiming to produce a cultivating effect; and, to that end, it should be a high work of Art, specially appropriated to its sacred destination. That Church Architecture admits the employment of the highest and finest powers, and

* It was a Scotchman's argument against the organ-and certainly the very best we know to call it a "chest full of whistles." As to the sinful instrument which it supplanted, it was not in a "meeting-house," but a house of worship of another name, that we knew it to be ordered out of doors, by a summary ukase from the pulpit, as an "ungodly big fiddle." But we are happy to relieve the sympathies of our readers, by assuring them that the banishment was not perpetual.

that therefore it may contain within itself eminently the conditions of an agent of culture, can hardly be doubted by any one who is prepared to think on the subject at all. In what manner the mind may react upon it we have already explained. There remains the inquiry, whether any particular order or kind of architecture appears to fulfil the conditions required of any intellectual production consecrated to religion better than others; but the answer to that inquiry belongs to that part of our labors, which we have deferred to another discussion. Meanwhile we have only to say, that there is no part of Rituals, which (in most instances) falls so far short of the character it ought to have and for reasons rather to be regretted than wondered at. Specimens of pure and simple architecture in churches are any thing but common; yet when we have met with one at all respectable, we have always been interested to observe, how generally it produces the subdued effect proper to itself: and that effect is not confined to those who have studied the Fine Arts. It is true, those who know nothing of architecture are not offended they are often pleased with positive blemishes ; nevertheless they are not wholly insensible to genuine beauties. The excuse for neglecting correctness of style in building churches, grounded upon the supposed indifference of all but connoisseurs, is therefore, to a great extent, unsound. The truth is, the architectural style of the church must and will be an agency of some sort. Now can we justify it to ourselves, that it shall either negatively or positively teach the people bad taste and confirm them in it, (to say nothing of further evil influences,) and yet we be indifferent because they do not know enough to be dissatisfied? Or ought we not rather to do all that lies within our power to make this agency also an instrument of culture within its sphere? Expense and trouble are no objections; besides, a good building is often built with less of either than a bad one.

We omit here a view of the details of Church Ceremonies. On reflection, we do not find them occupying so prominent a part of our services as would perhaps be supposed by a stranger. The cross in baptism, the receiving the child in his arms by the minister, the use of the ring in the marriage service, the change of place from the desk to the altar, the bowing in creed-we hardly know any other ceremonies, or symbolic acts, that occur in our Services. They stand upon the same ground as other symbols, and are to be judged by the importance of the truth symbolized, and their appropriateness. Our Lord has made