enterprise need not always claim an exact original in the sacred volume. Its true character is determined by higher considerations. A practice that accords with the obvious spirit of revelation, that tends to the promotion of its sublime objects, and to the enforcement of its eternal truths, may be really more scriptural than a hundred others which are arbitrarily founded upon its mere letter. This is pre-eminently true of the Sabbath-school, the religious press, and several minor auxiliaries of Christian effort of which neither patriarch nor apostle ever dreamed. Though unfortified by a shadow of scriptural precedent, very few will question their close agreement with the exalted principles and purposes of inspiration.

That the modern camp-meeting is fully entitled to the latter distinction will, we think, be apparent from the following considerations:

1. It affords unparalleled facilities for the dissemination of religious truth. It attracts a larger assemblage of people than any other form of Christian effort, and a more extended variety of characters and conditions is represented. Every campground is regularly thronged with irreligious persons, a large proportion of whom never think of entering a house of worship, nor of opening a religious publication. And it is very probable that the motives which in the present case induce their attendance, may fail to bear a very searching inquiry. These will naturally be characteristic of the individuals composing the assembly. The laborer may seek only a healthful and agreeable respite from his toil. The idle and the trifling may anticipate only a more easy and speedy flight of the dragging hours. A prurient and vulgar curiosity may foresee a brief gratification in the varied appearance and movements of so motley a multitude. A discontented spirit may crave the transient stimulus afforded in a temporary change of scene and of experience. And the dissolute and the vicious may discern in the consecrated grove only a hotbed of crazy fanaticism, and a favorable opening for rampant rowdyism, while only a small miniority may be influenced by any serious thought of spiritual benefit. But in the very assemblage thus secured an incalculable advantage is afforded to the cause of religion, for hundreds then listen to the word of God whom otherwise no persuasion could have beguiled within the sound of its echoes.

And, from the nature of the case, this condition of things is very likely to be permanent. Their infrequency and the brief duration of these gatherings, the varied and spirited proceedings and other striking features, whereby they are widely distinguished from the ordinary modes of worship, naturally tend to perpetuate the public interest in their recurrence. And to these important considerations may be added the confirming testimony of a single fact. Two railroad companies in New England have, within a very few years, voluntarily offered large sums to secure the location of camp-grounds conveniently near their respective lines. And this liberality in neither case resulted from any professed sympathy for the religious objects contemplated, but from the expectation of pecuniary profit in transporting at half the usual rates the thousands who would probably crowd their trains. And in the autumn of 1860, when, only about three weeks before the time of meeting, an incendiary fire upon one of these encampments destroyed the "preacher's house," with many hundred dollars' worth of tent covers and other property, a handsome proportion of the loss was promptly made up by the company more immediately interested.

2. It affords a more complete exemption than any other spiritual auxiliary from the ordinary impediments to Christian effort. The pressure of domestic cares, the exciting details of business, and kindred causes, often paralyze the most energetic of the means commonly employed. By a large majority of even respectable church-goers, the lessons and the impressions of one Sabbath are wholly forgotten before the dawning of another. Ample congregations may throng the temple, bold and impressive eloquence may enforce the truths of inspiration, thoughtful countenances and moistened eyes may attest an honest conviction of duty, and even the soft and muffled tread of retiring feet may indicate the solemn reflections which the sacred utterances of the hour have awakened. But how soon does the cold and unsympathizing atmosphere of the outer world chill this generous warmth of emotion. How powerfully rushes in the swelling tide of secular influence to drown these hallowed impressions. And when at the Sabbath's end the whole world throbs again with the mighty pulsations of its renewed activity, the sad result is hourly accelerated until not

even the theme of discourse, nor the scriptural sentiment that inspired it, is remembered. From this cause, beyond a doubt, hundreds of the really thoughtful and half-penitent are permanently lost to the Church.

Now the camp-meeting resolutely confronts, and approximately neutralizes this stubborn evil. The quiet forest is undisturbed by the noise of labor. No secular enterprise can invade its hallowed precincts. The cares of life are divorced, and even the thoughts of home and the recollection of its attractive pleasures measurably yield to the consideration of mightier interests. Every day becomes a Sabbath, the grove itself a consecrated temple. Each morning is welcomed with the voice of prayer and of song, repeated and resounding from tent to tent, until the last slumberer is awakened. To prayer succeeds the public discourse, appendiced by a glowing "exhortation" or two, which the thrilling inspiration of the scene often clothes with a wonderful power; inquirers are summoned to the altar amid the blended chorus of a thousand voices, and heaven is again besieged with the mighty eloquence of prayer. At the conclusion of these solemnities each tent-company resolves itself into a praying circle; the sacred importunity is renewed, fervent orisons break the silence, and for another hour the sylvan temple is vocal with their resounding echoes. And this succession of impressive religious rites, twice or thrice repeated, fills the measure of each day, public discourses alternating with public and social prayer, exhortation, and singing, until the very air seems laden with the devout and fragrant breathings. And during the regular intervals of worship, when the multitudes are mainly dispersed in pursuit of recreation or refreshments, dense crowds are often, without any special appointment, attracted to some particular tent, where scenes of the most absorbing interest are in progress. Some unusual exhibition of divine power may have occurred. Perchance a heardened heart has yielded to the accumulated force of its convictions, and now groans beneath its oppressive burden; or another, less obdurate, has wearied of the cold, penumbral light of a half-religious life, and longs for the cloudless radiance of an assured and glorious hope. Then mercy is unitedly invoked with all the energy of the most fervid and sympathetic pleadings. Perhaps a longstruggling and tearful penitent has found peace in Christ. A

faithless and recreant soul may have unexpectedly renewed its solemn covenant. A brighter phase of Christian experience may have recently crowned the yearnings of some laborious and vigilant disciple. Then the whole auditory is electrified with irrepressible joy and exultation. Or very likely these possibilities may all have been emphatically demonstrated, and a half-score or more are simultaneously exhibiting the varied and thrilling indications of a remarkable spiritual baptism. Then with the voice of prayerful entreaty is blended the inspiring shout of triumph, and the forest rings again with sacred peans and halleluiahs.

3. It employs a more extended variety of ministerial talent than any other mode of religious effort. The rule of rotation is followed, as in the modern lecture-course and the political canvass. Except in an occasional off-hand exhortation, no speaker, of however brilliant talents and widely extended reputation, ever expects to address the people more than once during the same meeting. A constant "change of programme sharpens the interest of the multitude, the familiar themes of the Gospel are clothed with a freshness and a novelty that would be impossible in the repeated efforts of the same person, and hundreds are thus attracted to the encampment, and persuaded to remain for days amid its hallowed and powerful influences.

This, we contend, is only the legitimate recognition by the Church of an inevitable necessity. The public soon wearies of the unvarying reiteration of even the most important truths. The ministrations of the ablest preachers measurably lose their attractiveness, not less than their awakening power, according as their style becomes familiar to the people. Habitual listeners may still pay their accustomed attention; competent judges of ministerial excellence may carefully weigh and approve; admiring friends may continue as formerly to extol and applaud whatever is uttered. Yet in innumerable cases no encouraging progress of the cause of religion is apparent, nor, indeed, any particular result from month to month beyond perhaps a generally favorable and moral impression. How many really learned and capable men have preached away two thirds of their audiences, and lulled the residue into chronic Sabbath slumbers, for want of the life and variety with which a more frequent succession of pastors would have invested the

same topics of discourse, and which would have speedily recalled the truant flocks. An extended revival of religion during a protracted term of ministerial service is of rare occurrence, unless, indeed, unusual effort is made, and the popular demand recognized by the procurement of ample assistance from the clergymen of the neighboring Churches.

Now, without purposely encouraging, or even approving, this peculiarity of the public taste, the camp-meeting only professes to acknowledge the fact, and to meet the emergency thus created. If in the Christian scheme, as in all secular enterprises which strongly address the reason, the emotions, and the tastes of mankind, an enlivening variety is preferable to a tiresome monotony, it simply confesses the reality and acts accordingly. If an overshadowing and saving truth, forcibly uttered in the varying styles of a score of earnest speakers, will accomplish more than if twenty times repeated by the same person, it promptly secures the co-operation required to effect that object. It wholly repudiates the denunciatory bitterness that sanctimoniously belabors and backbites a community for staying at home to escape the overpowering narcotic of interminable and sleepy homilies. It wastes neither words nor moments in idly sighing and whimpering over the deserted benches of an empty sanctuary, but endeavors, through the potent magic of an attractive pulpit, to correct the lamentable "depravity” of the people by first filling the courts of God with interested and eager listeners.

Both the natural tendency and the actual results of the energetic measures we have described, and of the striking scenes they so frequently occasion, significantly vindicate our position. An honest conviction of duty, a half-matured purpose, or a fully confessed intention, is not left to vanish with the occasion that inspired it. The rapid recurrence of religious solemnities, adroitly varied to enhance their interest, secures the continued presence of the inquirer. The earnest presentation of the most sacred truths, and the unceasing repetition of Christian sentiments, in every sermon, prayer, exhortation, and song, mature and intensify the nascent impression, while the earnest co-operation of sympathizing friends adds hourly vigor and vitality to the trembling hope. To these hallowed instrumentalities is the Church indebted for no small degree of its numerical pros