as been proved over and
over again of late, as his Romish antagonists have found to their cost.
Dr. Cumming's manner in the pulpit is pleasing. He seldom uses any other
action than a gentle waving of the hand, or the turning from one part of
his congregation to the other. He is no cushion-thumper, and depends for
effect more upon what he says than on the graces of action. Not that he
is ungraceful at all--far from that: what we mean is, that he is in this
respect directly the opposite of those pulpit fops who flourish their
bordered pieces of inspiration-lawn in the pulpit, and throw themselves
into such attitudes as compels one to believe that the looking-glass is
almost as essential a preparation for the pulpit as the Bible itself.'

Dr. Cumming is a warm supporter of Establishments, a sworn foe of
liberalism, which he declares to have 'charity on its mantle, and hell in
its heart.' He is a good hater. These things may fit him to be the idol
of Crown Court, but do little more. The large vision which looks before
and after, which makes man a philosopher, which teaches him to see the
good in all human developments of thought and action, and calmly and
lovingly to abide their legitimate results, has been denied him. The
consequence is, he has sunk into the apostle of a coterie, and 'gives up
to party what was meant for mankind.'

THE REV. JAMES HAMILTON, D.D.

It is a remarkable fact that a Scotchman has never led the House of
Commons. The real reason is, I imagine, that Scotchmen are not generally
very oratorical. The Scots suffer from the _fercidum ingenium_ which old
Buchanan claimed for them, undoubtedly; but it does not generally assume
an oratorical form: it finds other ways of development. It leads Sawney,
junior, to bid farewell to the porridge of the paternal roof, to cross
the Tweed, to travel in whatever dark and distant land gold is to be had,
and a fortune to be won. But there it stops. Joseph Hume was a model of
a Scotch orator. There was not a duller dog on the face of the earth
than that most excellent and honoured man. One would as soon listen to a
lecture from Elihu Burritt, or sit out a pantomime, as listen to a speech
from the Scottish Joseph.

So it is with the Scottish pulpit. It is generally hard and heavy,
destitute of life and power, abstruse, metaphysical, learned, and
consequently dull. Yet there have been splendid exceptions. The fiery
and holy Chalmers was one, and Edw