language of the prophet might become applicable to our Society. “I had planted thee a noble vine, wholly a right seed; how then art thou turned into the degenerate plant of a strange vine unto me?”

We think the danger we have endeavored to point out is peculiarly great as respects music and singing, owing to the power over the natural sensibilities, which sweet sounds possess; and it is easy to mistake the emotions thus produced for the tenderness of mind and the softening influence of “the Spirit that quickeneth.”

The distinction between these is very clearly pointed out by the late Thomas Chalmers, a distinguished clergyman of the Presbyterian Church of Scotland, a man eminent for his abilities, and whose position gave him abundant opportunities for observing that of which he speaks. He says:

“You easily understand how a taste for music is one thing, and a real submission to the influence of religion is another; how the ear may be regaled by the melody of sound, and the heart may utterly refuse the proper impression of the sense that is conveyed by it; how the sons and daughters of the world may, with their every affection devoted to its perishable vanities, inhale all the delights of enthusiasm, as they sit in crowded assemblage, around the deep and solemn oratorio.” “It is a very possible thing, that the moral and the rational and the active man, may have given no entrance into his bosom for any of the sentiments, and yet so overpowered may he be by the charm of vocal conveyance through which they are addressed to him, that he may be made to feel with such an emotion, and to weep with such a tenderness, and to kindle with such a transport, and to glow with such an elevation, as may one and all carry upon them the semblance of sacredness.”—Chalmers' Works, Phila., 1830, p. 107–8.

In speaking of the connection between music and worship, another person, not a member of the Society of Friends, observes: “I firmly believe” “that if we seek to affect the mind by the aid of architecture, painting or music, the impression produced by these adjuncts is just so much subtracted from the worship of the unseen Jehovah. If the outward eye is taken up with material splendor, or forms of external beauty, the mind sees but little of Him who is invisible; the ear that is entranced with the melody of sweet sounds, listens not to the still small voice by which the Lord makes his presence known.”

“True spiritual access unto God,” says another writer, “is not at all furthered by the excitement of the animal or intellectual frame. It is most commonly known, where in abstraction from outward things, the mind, in awful quietude, finds itself gathered into a sense of the presence of Infinite Purity.”

“By the power of imagination; by the influence of eloquent words; by a stirring swell of elevated music, the mind may be excited; the feelings may be tendered, and we may pour forth verbal supplication, whilst the heart is unchanged.”

Edward Burrough thus instructively describes the changes which followed the declension of the primitive church from its original state of life and purity.

“When the gift of the ministry through the Holy Ghost was lost and no more received, men began to make ministers by learning arts and languages and human policy. They began to study from books and writings what to preach, not having the Holy Ghost, without which none are the ministers of Christ.” “Having lost the sense of God's true worship, which is in spirit and in truth, they began to worship in outward observances, which is not the worship of God, but superstitious and idolatrous.” “When singing in the spirit and with the understanding ceased, then people began to introduce the form of singing David's experiences, in rhyme and metre; and thus, in the apostacy, the form grew