It may be alleged that the congregations of the primitive Church are not intended to be models in their peculiar organisation for modern times. But is not the primitive Church system of union and mutual co-operation essential to the very idea of a Christian society? And what authority is there for its assembling together to hear sermons, to pray, or to partake of the sacraments, which is not equally binding for its performing of all the other duties and enjoying all the other privileges described by the apostles as pertaining to church-members?

Now, in most cases, everything is left to the minister or his official assistants. The calculation is never soberly made as to his bodily or mental powers to do all which is expected of him. There is an immense faith in both. It is assumed that he, and not the congregation, is the body; that he alone, therefore, possesses the eye, the tongue, the ear, and the hand;—and some ministers seem so pleased with their elevated position as to be unwilling that any should share it with them. But when the minister is alive to the responsibility of his position, and when he is so fortunate as to have in his congregation men and women who share his convictions, and are willing to share the labour which these entail, even then there is still the tendency on the part of the great bulk of the members to have their work done by proxy. They have no objection that visiting, teaching, almsgiving, and the like, should be done by "the committee,"—while the committee, perhaps, are inclined, in their turn, to leave it to Mr A., or Miss B., who are active members of it. It is true we must labour, in the meantime, with whatever instrumentality God furnishes, and make the most of it, but we must not cease to aim at realising the noble end of making each member, according to his gifts and abilities, manifest the spirit of Him whose saying it was,—"It is more blessed to give than to receive!" No doubt, much wisdom is required upon the part of office-bearers to whom the government of the congregation is intrusted, to discern gifts, and to apply them. But the "one thing" chiefly needed is "love in the Spirit!" It is for this we should chiefly labour; for, let love to Jesus be once kindled by the Spirit of God through faith in His love to us, and love, which unites us to Him, will unite us to one another.

But admitting all we have said to be true regarding the congregations of the primitive Church, and acknowledging, moreover, that it would be highly desirable could such Christian congregations reappear in our day, it may be reasonably questioned whether this is possible in the present state of society, or whether any attempt to realise it is not a pious imagination, which would lead to extravagances and fanatical disorders such as have often characterised minor sects, who, in seeking to rise up as perfect churches, have sunk down into perfect nuisances? It may be said, "Only look at the elements you have to work upon! Deal with the actual flesh-and-blood men and women who necessarily form the bulk of our congregations, and not with ideal persons. Look at this farmer or shopkeeper—that servant or master; enter the houses of those hearers or parishioners in town or country, from the labourer to the proprietor;—is there the intelligence, the heart, the principle, the common sense—any one element which could unite those members into a body for any high or noble end? They provoke each other to love and good works, or help to convert the world! Would it were so! but it is impracticable."

Such thoughts we have ourselves experienced with feelings of despair. But there are others that make us hope that Christian congregations throughout our land may yet rise out of their ashes, living bodies imbued with life and love from their living and loving Head.

Are not all the difficulties, for example, connected with the proper organisation of the congregation those only that pertain to the existence of a living Christianity among its members? Given, that church-members individually were what they profess to be—"believers"—"disciples"—"brethren"—would they not, as a necessary result of this character, act collectively, as we suppose a Christian congregation ought to act? And, therefore, when we assume that it is vain to think of congregations becoming, as a whole, and in spite of many exceptions, living bodies of Christians—men united for mutual good and for the good of the world—do we not thereby assume that it is vain to expect professing Christians to become "constrained by the love of Christ not to live to themselves, but to Him who died for them and rose again?" Must we confess it to be utterly hopeless to look for such manifestations now of the power of the Spirit as will produce, in our cities and parishes, such congregations, ay, and far better ones, as once existed in Jerusalem, Ephesus, or Philippi?

There is another thought which encourages us, and makes us hope that these same "elements we have to work upon," and which appear to make our congregations incapable of accomplishing the high and holy destinies in the world to which we think they are called. It is this: that just as there are in nature hidden forces—in a quiet and apparently harmless cask of gunpowder, or electric battery, for instance—which lie concealed until the right spark calls forth their latent power into action, so there are, in many more individuals than we suspect, hidden forces of some kind or other capable of doing greater things than we could ever have anticipated, and which require only the right spark of spiritual life and energy to excite them also into vigorous action. It is thus that heroic bravery and sublime self-sacrifice have been manifested in the hour of sudden and appalling danger, or during seasons of long and dreadful suffering, by those who were never until then suspected of possessing so great a spirit, and who, but for such an occasion occurring for its manifestation, might have been doomed for ever to remain helplessly among the most commonplace incapables. Had a Grace Darling or a Florence Nightingale been known only as a sitter or pewholder in a congregation, they might have been deemed unfit for any work requiring courage, self-sacrifice, or perseverance. But these noble qualities were all the while in them. In like manner, have we never seen among our working classes a man excited by some religious enthusiast or fanatical Mormonite, who all at once seemed inspired with new powers, braved the sneers of companions, consented to be dipped in the next river, turned his small stock of supposed knowledge into immediate use, exhorted, warned, proselytised among his neighbours, spoke in the lanes and streets unabashed, and gathered his knot of disciples from among the crowd of his old comrades, thus giving token of a force having been lying hid in one who seemed capable only of work on week-days and of sleep on Sundays. There is not a Hindu fakir, who swings from a hook in the muscles of his back, or measures with his body a long pilgrimage to Juggernaut; not a Popish devotee, who braves the opinion of society with naked feet, comical garment, and self-imposed "bodily exercise," but demonstrates what a man can and will do, if the mainspring of his being is touched. There is not a sailor or soldier who does not, at sea or in battle, shew a greatness which he seems incapable of when seen in ordinary circumstances. It is thus, we repeat it, that most undoubtedly there are, in every congregation, men and women who have in them great powers of some kind, which have been given them by God, and which, though lying dormant, are capable of being brought out, in a greater or less degree, by fitting causes. Nay, every man is enriched with some talent or gift—if we would only discover it and bring it into action—which, if educated and properly directed, is capable of enriching others to a far greater extent than he himself is the least aware of. But what power will develop this force? What power, we reply, in the universe is so fitted to do so, and to bring out of a man all that is in him, and to direct all the force of his being to worthy and ennobling objects, as the power of a living Christianity? If the love of Jesus Christ and Him crucified, understood, believed, felt, does not kindle all the love in a man's heart, and fire it with all the enthusiasm, and inspire it with all the bravery of self-sacrifice, and nerve it with all the indomitable perseverance of which it is capable, then we know nothing else which can do this, or anything like this. Christianity has not become effete! It is still the "power of God and the wisdom of God." It is still mighty in pulling down strongholds. It can still convert "the elements we have to work upon" into instruments of righteousness, and "make the foolish things of the world to confound the wise;" and "the weak things of the world to confound the things that are mighty; and the base things of the world, and things that are despised, and things that are not, to bring to nought the things that are." But we must have real, living, and undying faith in Christ's life and power to do this, and be earnest in personal and social prayer; and then only will we be able to judge as to the capabilities of "the elements we have to work upon."

There is no department of congregational work in which the personal ministration of the individual members is more required than in its Home Mission. The sphere of this mission must necessarily be a district in which the members of the congregation can labour. We may assume that there is no district even in this Christian land in which are not to be found a number who require to be instructed in the gospel, and brought into the fellowship of the Christian Church, as well as a number who require to be ministered to in private owing to the infirmities of their bodies, the bereavements in their households, or other necessity of supplying their temporal or spiritual wants. In large cities not only does each district inhabited by the poorer classes abound in what has been termed a "home heathenism;" but this population is so fluctuating from month to month, that a more extended and vigorous agency is required to make use of the brief opportunity given us for doing it any good.

Now, one thing we hold as settled by the whole design of Christianity, and amply confirmed by daily experience and observation of human nature, and that is, that to seek and save the lost, a living agency is absolutely necessary. Religious tracts alone won't do. Far be it from us to write in an apparently slighting manner of what we so greatly value as good tracts, when we can find them. But, on the other hand, let us beware of exaggerating the power of such an agency, or demanding impossibilities from it. A great number in our large cities and manufacturing districts who require to be reclaimed from ignorance and vice cannot read at all. Those who can do so are yet so imperfectly instructed in the art as to be utterly unable to comprehend a continuous narrative of facts, far less any exposition of doctrine or duty; while those best able are not always willing to read anything of a religious character. The most efficient method, in our opinion, of making use of tracts in all such cases, is to read them, when possible, to others, and, if necessary, explain them, and then distribute them. But what is a dead tract to a living person?—what is any description of Christianity on paper, as compared to the living epistle, which all men can read?

We want Christian men and women; not their books or their money only, but themselves. The poor and needy ones who, in this great turmoil of life, have found no helper among their fellows; the wicked and outcast, whose hand is against every man's, because they have found, by dire experience of the world's selfishness, how every man's hand is against them; the prodigal and broken-hearted children of the human family, who have the bitterest thoughts of God and man, if they have any thoughts at all beyond their own busy contrivances how to live and to indulge their craving passions,—all these, by the mesmerism of the heart, and by means of that great witness, conscience, which God, in mercy, leaves as a light from heaven in the most abject dwelling on earth, can, to some extent, read the living epistle of a renewed soul, written in the divine characters of the Holy Spirit. They can see and feel, as they never did anything else in this world, the love which calmly shines in that eye, telling of inward light and peace possessed, and of a place of rest found and enjoyed by the weary heart! They can understand and appreciate the unselfishness—to them a thing hitherto hardly dreamt of—which prompted this visit from a home of comfort or refinement, to an unknown abode of squalor or disease, and which expresses itself in those kind words and looks that accompany the visit. They can perceive the reality of the piety, which also reads to them, in touching tones, the glory of Him who came to seek and save the lost; and their souls cannot refuse some amen, however faint, echoed by their very misery, and from their yearnings for a good they have never known, to that earnest prayer of faith uttered, in the bonds of a common brotherhood, to one who is addressed as a common Father, through a common Lord. If ever society is to be regenerated, it is by the agency of living brothers and sisters in the Lord; and every plan, however apparently wise, for recovering mankind from their degradation, and which does not make the personal ministrations of Christian men and women an essential part of it, its very life, is doomed, we think, to perish.

It is thus that our Father has ever dealt with His lost children. He has in every age of the world spoken to men by living men; and "God, who at sundry times, and in divers manners, spake unto our fathers by the prophets, has in these latter days spoken to us by his Son!"