descent, to other animals, before he can be a fit subject for conversion, under the preaching (so called) of a modern "Evangelist." There would be no difficulty, we dare say, in backing up the rule with the necessary statistics. We might be induced to contribute our share. We have now reached the first stage of our discussion, which was, to show the relation of Rituals to Christianity. We contemplate them, it will have been seen, as instruments of culture co-operating with such efforts of the Gospel as belong especially to the House of God. But we have come to only the most general statement of this truth. Such ought to be the office of each ritual element; but such it may not, by any means, always be. How, then, may each and all be made to perform their proper office? The moment, moreover, that we begin to enter upon any particular inquiries, we are met by the difficulty, that there is difference of opinion and practice as to the special form of some of those elements. One Church makes use of precomposed forms in prayer; another directs the minister to pray extemporaneously. One adopts the assistance of instrumental music; another rejects it:- and so on with the rest. Believing as we do, that our own Church has been the wisest of all in her regulation of these matters, we cannot go further without openly or otherwise vindicating the form which each element of Rituals has taken with us, so far as it is peculiar. We shall do so openly and avowedly, like honest men. But we mean, likewise, to do it in a fair and fit investigation. We propose, therefore, instead of entering at once into petty comparisons, to lay down some general principles applicable to the whole subject, and then to refer special forms to them. The question before us may be stated thus: What should each and every element of Rituals be in order to perform their proper office? We answer, generally, they must be high productions of mind. For, mind is the common agent of cultivation in Rituals as well as in preaching. In proportion as the completeness, the arrangement, the harmony of the agencies as a body, and the form and finish of each, show the work of eminent taste and judgment co-operating with the more vital requisites of sound doctrine and devout sentiment-in that proportion will the appropriate office of Rituals, in public worship, be performed. But, it will be asked, are the cases parallel? Is "reproduction" depended upon here, also, for producing the cultivating effect? Is the architecture of the building, or the garment of the minister, to be a study of reproduction, like a sermon ?The difficulty thus naturally suggested, is a difficulty partly of exclusiveness, (thought to be a common one in Church matters,) and partly of application. There is a mode of producing culture appropriate to natural beauty, and another appropriate to the works of mind. We have already given examples of both. Natural objects appeal to that sense of the beautiful, by itself, that forms a common, but most precious part of the gifts of every mind. It seems, in the first instance, to call forth love-the high and holy love that is appropriate to the good, the true, and the beautiful. But it likewise, by gentle and subtle movements, awakens a pleasant activity in the mind- a tendency to all finer thoughts until, perhaps, all the higher faculties are called into action, and march on, kindling as they go, into the pure empyrean of poesy. The actual degree of effect produced in any given case, must, of course, depend upon the worth of the objcct-the scantiness or richness of its dower of beauty-and upon the susceptibility of the subject. Works of mind, on the other hand, demand to be reproduced. The course of reasoning must be gone through with, step by step, in our own mind; the image brought forward for illustration, must be pictured forth before our own eyes, by an original effort; and even a strain of music is nowise different from other sounds, except as we "follow it"- that is, go through the windings of its melodious movement with activity of our own. But, even in surveying a natural landscape, we may do something like this work of reproduction we may analyze the several elements of its beautywe may observe their relation to each other we may see how the sunlight lends to all a common tint, and so brings the whole into a more living unity; and a work of mind, in its turn, often appeals to our mere sense of beauty, sometimes more or less powerfully, and in greater or less proportion. A landscapepainting, for instance, calls forth, in the first instance, those feelings alone with which we should look on the same feature in nature. In few persons, indeed, does the reaction of the mind go further. And, generally, all those works of mind stand in the same position, which in their form and way of appearing assimilate themselves to external nature:- all, in short, that are, in any degree objects of sense; as in Music, for instance, the beauty of the mere sound the tone of the voice or instrument may make its impression, without any relation to the rhythm, or to the feeling embodied in the proper character of the melody. - Now, the elements of Rituals, while, like preaching, they are productions of the human mind, do still assimilate themselves more to external nature in their way of appearing. This is but little seen in the Prayers, indeed, but it is obvious in architecture the other ritual agencies, with respect to the proportion in which it enters into them, lie between these extremes, and nearer to the former. Where a compound constitution is so evident, it would, then, as we have said, be exclusive to say, that the ideal creation, in the architecture of the church, for instance, was a subject for "reproduction" merely: — obviously, it produces its proper effect by a twofold operation, first, by moving the mind to pleasant activity, like an object of natural beauty, and then, by carrying it on to reproduce the process of intellectual creation, considered simply as such. And here what we called the difficulty of application finds its place. The reaction of our minds upon a discourse is evidently not identical with a reaction upon a specimen in architecture; yet we call it "reproduction" in both cases. It is true that the term is applicable to many things embraced in rituals, in their aspect as merely objects of external beauty, just as it was in the case of a natural landscape. We contemplate- or more properly, perhaps, are struck by the marks of beauty which they bear, as mere results, without taking into account the ideal, or creative process by which they were produced; we perceive, with a gentle sense of delight, their relation each to the other; we recognise and we feel their charm as a well-composed whole. Yet it is still true, that as each one of the constituents of public worship has its aspect as a work of mind, so each admits, in its degree, the reproductive process, in its stricter sense. In the architecture, for instance, we may contemplate the idea of the kind or order employed, the relation of the features to that idea, and the governing conditions, with the appropriateness of the adaptation of the kind or order to the particular building. Since, then, the mode of effecting culture, which is appropriate to intellectual creations, as well as that which belongs to natural beauty, has been seen to be appropriate to the elements of Rituals, we may repeat that Rituals are agents of cultivation in proportion as they are high intellectual productions. For as to the qualification as to their being high productions we need not to stay to show, that if they produce effect as works of mind, the higher and more perfect they are the stronger and better will be their influence. But is "highness" absolutely -without qualification or condition-all that is requisite? 17 NO. VII.-VOL. IV. Certainly not. No where are works of Art estimated without reference to their necessary relations. A production of Art, devoted to the purposes of the Church, is therefore to be considered eminent or otherwise just in proportion to the fitness of its relation to those purposes. There are chief, and there are subordinate ends the general relation to religion, with particular reations to every thing with which the work must stand in connexion-all which form the prescribed sphere wherein the creative power of Art must confine its exertions. As the painter, when commending to Eternity "a moment caught from fleeting time,"* brings himself, by the steadfast contemplation of each circumstance and condition, to the full conception of the situation and to the power of reacting upon it, so the Church-artist, in every department, must awaken his genius by studying the position which his work, in all its aspects, is meant to occupy. A prime condition of eminence, therefore, in any production of mind devoted to the church-supposing the maker to possess the essential qualifications of an Artist-is, that it proceed from a spirit thoroughly imbued with a sense of its religious bearings. Surely, if music, for instance, is the true utterance of peculiar states of mind, that melody by which the composer conveyed, in his way, his sense of the situation of a pair of lovers in an opera, can never be transferred to the Church, so as to stand equally well for states of mind strictly religious. Another and minor condition of high excellence in such production arises from its bearing on a subordinate end of all Church services. That end seems to us to be a sanctification of every thing connected with them—that is, according to the meaning of the Hebrew word, to separate and set them apart from common and worldly things. So the day for regular public worship was set apart by God himself. In the same spirit, churches have always been made to differ in form from the dwellings of man.† Religion, *Soul-soothing Art! Thou, with ambition, modest yet sublime, WORDSWORTH. It is very true, indeed, (as we must allow,) that many good people are disposed to make the difference the other way. They prefer, it would seem, to have the House of God rather worse built, worse furnished, worse swept, and worse heated, than their own; and whereas plate is particularly becoming to their table, there is something-in the "association of ideas," we suppose that gives to baser metal (or even, God help us! to a decanter and tumblers) a very peculiar fitness for the Table of the Lord. too, a matter of every day's business, with its daily services of private devotion, and a subject for every day's discussion and study, still has its peculiar mode of treatment on that day, in the midst of all its sanctities. When brought then within the walls of the Church, it is no longer treated like a topic of familiar conversation, but one man alone is set apart to discourse upon it, after solemn study and careful preparation. This end, it would seem evident enough, must be kept in view in the form of every ritual element, were it only out of mere good taste. We take notice, finally, of another condition of excellence, which arises from the special purpose and bearing of each ritual feature by itself. As in sacred poetry, for instance, besides its general religious bearing, it must remain to be considered, whether it should be addressed to the Great object of praise, or whether, like a sermon, it may contain doctrinal reflections and pious exhortations apparently directed to others, or solely to our own hearts.* We have thus given a general answer to the question, What each and every element of Rituals should be in order to perform their proper office? We must now proceed to examine each one of those elements in reference to the standard established. No one of them will need to detain us long, except Prayer. We proceed to that, in the first instance. Is the Liturgy of our Church - is the Order of Daily Morning and Evening Prayer-such a production of mind as we have described? Does it eminently fulfil the conditions laid down? We answer this question, first, so far as the Liturgy is a precomposed Form merely, and, then, as it is a Form displaying certain characteristic qualities. Recurring to the principles, which we have endeavored to settle, there would seem to be a strong presumption, that on a day and in a place set apart, where even our fellow-men are to be addressed in the best, well-prepared efforts of a cultivated mind, a precomposed form of prayer is that form which makes public prayer a thing separate from common addresses, and best preserves the uniform, harmonious character of Church services. We say precomposed form emphatically; for it must not be for * This principle of separating and setting apart, which it has pleased the Deity himself to act upon, is doubtless deeply grounded in the universal nature of man. It might be explained upon the theory of the "Association of Ideas,"-"or (to use Scott's words) by whatever other theory has now been substituted for that once universal solvent of all metaphysical difficulties." |