The Master of the Temple Church.

BY THE REV. G. W. M'CREE.

THE Temple Church was founded by the Templars in the reign of Henry II, and is one of the four round churches which exist in England. The organ was built by Smith in 1687, and performed on by the famous Purcell. The services are conducted in cathedral style, and the singing men and boys are probably the most accomplished in London. As Benchers only, or those to whom they have given "orders," can be admitted within "the bar," that is into the pews, the congregations are most learned and select. Chancellors, judges, queen's counsel, barristers, men of science, literary men, fashionable ladies, students of theology, law, and medicine, and people of rank and culture, flock to the Temple Church.

Its "Master" is the Rev. C. J. Vaughan, D.D., the author of a large number of popular religious volumes. He is a Member of Trinity College, Cambridge; Evening Lecturer at St. Andrew's, Holborn; and Chaplain in Ordinary to the Queen. He was "presented" to his high position by the Crown, and the value of his living is two hundred pounds a year, in addition to which, we presume, there is his residence in the Temple. His Lectureship is worth one hundred pounds per annum; so that it cannot be said the excellent "Master" rolls in luxury and wealth.

The service at the Temple Church is simple and impressive, stately without show, and with much that must fill the hearts of devout worshippers with emotions of an elevated and spiritual character. The preacher wears a surplice; but there are no flowers, lights, banners, vestments, and incense; and most clear is it that if the service in the Temple Church is in harmony with the laws of the realm, and the rubrics of the Church of England, then most decidedly the ritualistic service of the Rev. Mr. Tooth, at St. James's, Hatcham, is not, and cannot be.

Dr. Vaughan has some of the best characteristics of a good preacher. He is grave, unaffected, learned, and earnest. His articulation is distinct. He speaks with dignity and power. Every sentence is well finished-clear as pure crystal. His doctrine is evangelical without cant; and he speaks earnestly without bombast. You never hear him "mouthing" against Dissenters, nor dilating in arrogant terms in favour of the Church of England. A gentleman, a scholar, and a Christian, he is a wise teacher, a capable expounder of the Word, a logical defender of the Faith, and a preacher fully able to meet the intellectual wants of men "learned in the law."

Dr. Vaughan has been a most prolific author. True, the Church Times jeers at his books; but we question whether any of its favourite lights could produce anything to equal them in accurate scholarship, purity of style, and devoutness of spirit. A brief specimen or two of Dr. Vaughan's sermons may be given in illustration of this statement. Thus does the excellent Doctor speak of

THE MASTER OF THE TEMPLE CHURCH.

OUR FATHER, WHICH IS IN HEAVEN.

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"We have here, first, a revelation. 'Israel after the flesh,' was taught indeed a natural sonship. Doubtless Thou art our Father.' Am not I thy Father which begat thee?' Brethren, we are taught to mistrust, as a ground of personal access, anything which is not personal. To speak of the redemption of the world' is indeed right and true and substantial. It is in the universal that the individual finds its standing place, and its starting point. Any limitation is fatal to the trust. Any condition, introduced at that point, bars the entrance. Yet the force and the fire of the universal lies in the personal. The logic is perfect. If of all-then of me, draw the inference! 'Loved us'-then 'loved me.' And from the individual we go back strongly and irrefragably to the universal. If 'our Father,' then 'my Father'-if mine, then ours.

"In this one word lies revelation-lies the gospel. Jesus Christ stands upon the earth, and declares God a Father.

"Great grace is in the word. First of all, it supersedes all human will and human action as regards the relationship. If our Lord Jesus Christ had said, 'When ye pray, say, "Our Friend," ten thousand doubts would have sprung up and checked the utterance. A Friend implies the concurrence of two wills. We may speak of a family friend, an hereditary friend, and we may feel that in that name there is involved something of a claim prior to merit, independent of character, offering security for kind construction and long patience. Still, at some point or other, in the relation of friendship, there has been a concurrence, a joint action of two wills-friendship cannot always have been all on one side -and herein lies the difference between Friend and Father.

"No exercise of will can procure for me, and no amount of demerit can forfeit for me, the fact, the existence of a Sonship and Fatherhood. Even in the far country where the prodigal son is feeding swine, not memory alone, but consciousness, recognises a relation between himself and a far-off person, whom he confidently calls his father. And when he forms the resolution to escape from his misery and his destitution, and to seek again the land and the home which for years have been to him but a dream and an illusion, he frames into words, without a doubt or a peradventure, the confession with which he will present himself at the door of that house and that heart, and it begins with the assertion of an inalienable relationship—'I will say to him, Father.'

In another place, the preacher speaks thus of

THE LOVE OF CHRIST.

"For one glimpse of power, or even of holiness, Christ gives us ten revelations of the love. The very life of that world' is self-forgetfulness. The ministering spirits minister to the heirs of salvation. The angels who behold the face of God in heaven, are the angels of Christ's little ones.

"The angels who shall share His glory in the Advent, and execute His solemn behests in the Judgment, are they, who not only desire to look into the secrets of His redemption or study the manifold wisdom in the dispensations of His Church, but who rejoice with a joy individual and unspeakable in the repentance of one sinner, and keep the feet of the imperilled saint as he treads his darkling way through the rugged wilderness of this world."

As the Head of Harrow School, Vicar of Doncaster, and now Master of the Temple, Dr. Vaughan has a high reputation. No fewer than fifty volumes attest his industry as a preacher and author, and his great ability as a scholar. We regard him as an ornament of the Christian pulpit, and a beautiful pattern of the true pastor.

No ministry will be really effective, whatever may be its intelligence, which is not a ministry of strong faith, true spirituality, and deep earnestness.

Two Points in Christian Ethics.

PERFECTION certainly implies that the thing perfect shall, in the first place, possess all its parts; and, in the next place, that all those parts shall bear their proper proportion the one to the other. A tree, for example, must possess trunk, branches, foliage, and in fact all the parts which which make up a tree before it can be perfect; and even then it will not have reached perfection unless every part bears its proper proportion to the other parts. The same is true of a man, and in fact of all objects which come under the cognizance of our senses.

We rejoice in a system of religion which we call Christianity. It has emanated from God, we say, and therefore must be perfect. But how can such a belief be reconciled with the views which some have evidently entertained concerning Christianity. The whole of Christianity, according to some, is contained in the Evangel, "Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ," etc. Others have taught that Christianity is made up of what is called doctrine; whilst another school deals exclusively with its practical or ethical side. So that at last it comes to this, that in one town I am told that if I want doctrine I must go to the Rev. Seth Sound's chapel; if I want exhortation I can get it at the mission room where the Evangelist, Mr. Luke Lovesoul, labours; and that precept is duly dealt out, in the church in Broad Square, by the Rev. Abel Amiable, M.A. Now I cannot help thinking that Christianity includes the whole of these things. It is a perfect system, therefore all its parts are present, and all those parts bear their proper proportions one to another. Exhortations must be given, doctrine attended to, and ethics enforced. I surely, then, shall not be called a legalist if I ask you to consider with me two points of Christian ethics couched in the words of the wise man, "The discretion of a man deferreth his anger; and it is his glory to pass over a transgression."

Now anger may, or may not, be sinful. Wrath, vindictiveness, revenge, must be wrong; but there is an anger which is only another form of love. I am angry with my child's wrong doings; my love produces my anger; in fact the anger is a form of my love. God is angry with the wicked-not anxious for revenge, not vindictive-but His anger is the offspring of His love. Which of these two kinds of anger may be meant I do not know; but I think it would be discreet, or prudent, to defer the expression of either. But why? Well, first, because perhaps you may be wrong. Nobody is infallible but the Pope, you know; so that there is just the shadow of a possibility that you are wrong. Many people have found themselves wrong when they have thought themselves right. Let me tell you of one case of this sort. I knew a minister who took for his text once, these words, "In the world ye shall have tribulation." After shewing that this would be true of the disciples as private Christians, since they were in a world that hated their Christianity, the preacher went on to show that it would be true also of them as ministers. They would have tribulations from many of their hearers. Some would be cold, others unduly critical, some passionate, etc. In the audience there was a family for whom the preacher entertained a deep respect; But on the next Sabbath their pew

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was vacant, and so the next Sabbath, and the next. The minister called upon them to ascertain the reason of their absence, and was thunderstruck to find that they were under the impression that the sermon in question was preached for them, and that by the cold member John was meant, and by the critical one Mary, and so on. Judge their surprise when they heard that their minister had not so much as thought of them; but that the characters described were all imaginary. Now if these friends had deferred their expression of wrath they would have been spared much humiliation. Well, perhaps, when you think you have cause for anger you are mistaken; therefore, just for a little while, postpone the expression of it.

Then another reason why this precept should be obeyed is, because if you are right your words will have more weight by and bye than now. Our words of rebuke are not like the manna that became bad unless used at once; but they are like wine which is better for being kept. Second thoughts are often better than first, and so are second words. If I want my rebukes to have weight, let me postpone them, for then my words will be better chosen, and consequently more weighty.

By postponing the expression of your anger you will be the better able to distinguish between the offence and the offender. This is a distinction which, as a Christian, you must be sure to keep up. Even the excommunicated brother must be treated according to Paul's admonition; not as an enemy, but as a brother. By giving expression to feelings of indignation when first they are felt you will probably attack the offender instead of the offence; therefore defer it.

Remember, too, that unrestrained anger is injurious to yourself. The old adage says, "Anger is like ashes, it flies in the face of the man who scatters it." It is injurious to your body. The swollen veins, the quivering lip, the flushed face of the angry man, shew, that by his passion, he has been driving the blood too rapidly through its narrow passages, and has thereby injured himself. Then see how your wrathful expressions may injure your reputation; and more than that, unbridled passion is injurious to the soul, for it is sinful. Surely, then, it will be advisable to defer your anger, for you will be cooler by and bye.

And then it is wise to defer your anger, for it is God-like. Just suppose He had given vent to His wrath upon you when you committed the first actual transgression-what would have become of you? As God has postponed his anger to you, so do you to others. Great minds have felt the truth of this proposition. Julius Cæsar, it is said, used to repeat the alphabet before giving expression to anger. Plato once said to his servant, "I would beat you only that I am angry." And you see this man Solomon, noted for his wisdom, says, "The discretion of a man deferreth his anger."

The other point in these words is that it is glorious to pass over a transgression. What does this mean? I find by the dictionary that the word glory has several renderings, such as honour, nobility, renown. Let us look at these words for a moment. Honour: A young man, a gentleman by birth and education, enters the army as a subordinate officer. He does not do so for a living, for he has enough and to spare. He tells me he is seeking honour. Years glide by, and I see a veteran

warrior, with scars upon his body, and medals and ribbons upon his breast. What mean these decorations upon your breast? I ask him. These, sir, are my honours. I have faced the deadly breach, and braved death in the battle field full many a time; and, because of this, a grateful country has awarded me these honours; and this is his estimate, then, of honour. In order to save a fellow creature from death by burning a man rushes into the house in flames, up the creaking stair-case, and amid the huzzas of the anxious crowd brings out the one threatened with destruction. He is a noble fellow! is the involuntary expression from every heart. A Columbus, after difficulties almost insurmountable, and perils not a few, brings home the glad tidings of a world of wealth beyond the western wave; and we say of Columbus that he was a renowned man. Now then, says God, the truly honourable, noble, renowned man, is the man who will pass over a transgression. Pass over. What does that mean? Perhaps it means to act as though you did not notice the transgression; but it certainly does mean to forgive it; and notice, too, the word transgression-not an error, not a fault, not a little injury-but a transgression, a mighty wrong; so that this is the meaning. It is truly honourable, noble, renowned, to forgive even great injuries.

How different is the estimate of the world. Men have drawn the sword or the deadly pistol, as they have said, to vindicate their honour; and nations have been deluged in blood, hearths have been made desolate, helpless little ones have been made orphans, and weeping wives widows, because of the world's false estimate of honour. But why is it glorious thus to forgive injuries? Well, because, in the first place, the man who does so achieves a noble conquest over self. Greater is he that ruleth himself than he that rides rough shod over a world. I saw a horse run away the other day. Madly it dashed down the street, threatening destruction to every person and thing which came near it. At the bottom of the street, a man, grimy with coal dust from the pit, leaped before the animal. It tried hard to pass him; but he was determined to stop it, and he effected his purpose. What presence of mind, what tact, what bravery, said the spectators. But I say the man who curbs the mad horse of his angry passions is nobler still. God help us to achieve this noble victory over the tyrant self! But, again, it is glorious to forgive injuries, because this is the surest way of gaining a victory over our foe. Entrenched behind his fortifications he may bid defiance to the red hot shot of your anger; but ply him with the weapon called forgiveness, and he will surrender at discretion. A soldier at Woolwich had been tried by court martial several times, and punished in various ways, but all seemed to have no effect upon him. What shall we do with him? said the officers, upon one occasion of his being tried for a misdemeanor. We have tried every thing. No, said one, there is one thing we have not tried. We have not forgiven him; and I propose that we do so. After discussing the matter for some little time they at length agreed to do so; and, addressing the prisoner in the usual solemn judicial tones, the judge of the court said, “John I- this court having duly heard and weighed the evidence for and against you, believes that you are guilty of the charges brought against you, and do hereby adjudge you to be fully and freely forgiven, trusting that this sentence may have the effect of causing you to become a better man." The poor fellow