Here, then, we rest our plea for freedom. To a Theology thus conceived liberty is indispensable; and you might as reasonably look for the highest results in poetry, art, or science, if you rigidly prescribed beforehand the path which they must take, as in religion if you refuse it any independent vision, and compel it to tread in time-worn ruts. It is not because we deem Theology dead, but because we know it to be alive, that we desire to leave it unbound. If communion with God is a reality, we must allow the soul to hear for itself the divine voice, and, lifted above the world in the solitary exaltation of prayer, to receive that measure of light which the bounteous Giver has designed for it. If the great march of science and thought is a reality, we must allow the mind to mingle in the crowd, and press on towards a fuller and deeper interpretation of the world in which it lives. When these two movements are permitted to go on without unnatural checks, they escape the antagonism which has been artificially fostered between science and religion, and proceed with the harmony of mutual friendship. The higher thought responds to the higher feeling, and the truer theory is found to be a spiritual gain. But when through the terror of a secret unbelief which always trembles before a difference of opinion, or a presumption which supposes that its "views" are the final revelation of the Spirit, we chain up faith and reason, those two feet by which men climb to God, we degrade Theology to a pale and shrivelled captive, whose eyes, habituated to the dungeon, cannot bear the light, and whose faltering tongue babbles an old-world language. Here, as in politics, unjust repression produces its own Nemesis in the shape

of the very evils which we dread, and the mind, being refused the orderly progress of natural development, advances with the blind excesses of revolution.

It is a matter of unfeigned rejoicing that the principle of spiritual freedom which our College has consistently maintained since its foundation is obtaining such ample recognition at the present day. A new temper is coming over theological discussion, and religious questions are treated with a comprehensive knowledge, a manly understanding, and a power of spiritual appreciation, which promise the happiest results. This change is due to many circumstances, but not least to the progress of science, which has deprived the theologians of their old dogmatic confidence, and compelled them to reconsider their position. There are some to whom this process appears altogether painful. They lament the decay of faith; they become apprehensive of the freedom which they themselves have helped to foster; and though the iron bands of Rome have snapped under the pressure of human thought, they would endeavour to restrain by a silken thread the restiveness of speculation. But those of a more hopeful temperament think they can already discern two important spiritual gains. In the first place, men are being thrown back upon the inner resources and primary essentials of religion; in other words, they are more genuinely religious. Nothing is more certain than that men may make church or dogma a substitute for religion, and without conscious insincerity profess their allegiance to Christianity while they know nothing of its spirit. But when the form is temporarily obscured, they are driven to seek behind the form for that inward and spiritual essence which

alone can vivify. In spite of many discouraging appearances, may we not see that while the Theology of the sixteenth century is losing its hold upon men, the pure spirit of Christ is sinking deeper into the heart of the world, and preparing the way for a juster, holier, and more humane society? And, secondly, as a consequence of this, there is an increasing unity of the spirit. The nearer we are drawn to God, the more do we realize our brotherhood; and over the crumbling walls of partition which the sects have reared, we are looking into one another's eyes, and finding that the sons of God are everywhere. More and more the differences which divide us are seen to be superficial, the imperfect pictures of fallible minds; and deep within the soul is that life of heavenly communion which flows from the creative energy of God. Our interpreting thoughts have many tongues-the language of the Spirit is one; and the time must be surely coming when, through the deeper wisdom of the chastened mind, the work of that Spirit will be complete, and human brotherhood be something better than a name.

We welcome you, then, to the joyous responsibilities of freedom. It is not for you to lift any sectarian flag, or feed men with the husks of party names and cries instead of the grace and truth of God. It is not for you to denounce as crimes what you deem the errors of truth-loving men, or, with sad forebodings, to mistake the blindness of your own hearts for the descending night of irreligion, but to be heralds of the dawn, and prophets of a kingdom of God, which is slowly shaping itself out of the seeming chaos of human thought and passion. Only keep close to the central light, and remember

If

that none but a pure and simple heart can reflect the divine ray, and none but an intellect which puts aside every personal claim can exercise a just judgment. we have been right in our rapid survey of the nature of Theology, the ideal theologian must have a lofty and serene soul, which "dwells apart," conversant with eternal things, and aiming at what this world can never give. He must have a sympathy which, itself untouched by the sinfulness of human passion, yet can reach and understand its lowest depths. He must have a mind well stored, with power of insight to read the deep experiences of men, and quick to exercise the keen edge of thought. Few are called to stand upon this high level; but if our aim be ever upward, we shall not wholly fail or prove quite unworthy of that inheritance of spiritual liberty into which it has been our privilege

to enter.

XI. The Calling of the Minister.

BY CHARLES BEARD, B.A.*

GENTLEMEN,

YOUR year's work is at an end, and you are now

expecting from me those words of mingled criticism and advice and encouragement which it is the function of your Visitor to utter. To-day, however, I shall not attempt to play the critic's part. To do so with effect, I must have had a larger experience of your work, and be able to compare its results from year to year. I have, nevertheless, heard enough to assure me that you have honestly given your minds to the studies of the place, that your industry has not been without its due fruit of success, and that you have a right to look forward to a period of rest and recreation. What I shall try to do is to place before you certain general aspects of your task and calling; and in the case of those who are passing out of the state of pupilage into that of active work and self-direction, to offer friendly advice, which, whatever its value, is the outcome of my own experience.

In the first place, let us make it quite clear why you are here, and on what terms I address you. I take it as true, once for all, that you are not so much preparing for a profession as obeying a vocation. Unfortunately,

*An Address to the Students, delivered at the Close of the Session, June, 1884, by the Rev. Charles Beard, B. A., Visitor.