all the house, he uttered a string of startling questions: "Where ain I? What sounds are these that reach my ear? Is this the Vatican of Rome? Are these the puny thunders of a papal bull?" And thus like fiery balls the questions flew, hitting the center every time, till one actually felt to commiserate the object of his apparently merciless rebuke. This was followed by eloquent words in eulogy of individual liberty, and depicting the heinousness of its infraction. The Conference was awed into strange quiet, amid which the chair seemed glad to make apology.

Of Alfred Griffith in the pulpit the prevalent impression rests chiefly on tradition. There seems, however, small difficulty in reaching a fairly just conception of his preaching both as to matter and manner. From the cast of his mind, his temperament and spirit, and from the preaching of the timesits doctrinal character, the stress accustomed to be put on fundamental truth-it were easy to determine what was most distinctive in his preaching, with regard both to substance and treatment. Its characterization by one familiar with his later ministry doubtless conveys a just impression of his preaching at its best. In this description it is said:

His sermons were heavy artillery, slowly moved to their position, but overwhelming in their effectiveness. The supremacy of the truth of God, the supreme divinity of Jesus Christ, the atonement and its accessories, the pardon and restoration and hope of the sinner, were its grand themes. And with what weight of argument, cogency of reasoning, manly persuasion, sharp distinctions, and unequivocal rebukes, did he handle these topics! The grave sincerity of his manner, the delicate pauses of utterance, the logic which never hurried its conclusion, the unique gesture and tone and look, the jostled Bible, the eye often closed or glancing out from its shaggy archway with deep conviction, or the inevitable humor which played over his peculiar countenance, are remembered by all who knew him. Though he had serious bodily defects, and lacked the graces of elocution, he was yet an orator. He handled God's truth with the dignity of a royal embassador. When fully roused, his majestic manner gave so much impressiveness to his subject that defects of person and utterance were forgotten. This is true oratory. Its secret is less in the man than in the divine agency which penetrates and empowers both preacher and preaching.

The wisdom and fidelity conspicuous in his ministry were no less apparent in the wider spheres allotted him in his protracted

life to fill. In the highest council of the Church especially, these and kindred qualities had exhibition at times constraining admiration. In extent and quality his service here was signal, covering as it did nine quadrennia, and dealing with events as critical as any which our history has known. Unquestionably the organism of the Church has never been under tenser strain than in the growth and culmination of the Radical movement, and in the convulsive throes attending the emancipation of its episcopacy from the evil of slavery. Indeed, of the stormy history of these times, he might have said, as Æneas of the siege of Troy, magna pars fui; for, through it all, he was abreast with the men most influential in controlling the determinations of the General Conference. With respect to the latter of these events, it was of his motion that in the General Conference of 1844 cognizance was taken of Bishop Andrew's implication in slavery. Though the action ultimately had was on a substitute slightly modifying his proposal, it was he who sounded the note which was "heard around the world." The courage of this act, not easy now to estimate, was genuinely heroic; for, though representing a Conference pre-eminently loyal through every shifting phase to the best sentiment of the Church respecting slavery, he yet was from a region where the measure he proposed was certain to evoke opposition. Slavery dominated politics, and even then was bracing its arm for the blow it finally struck at the nation's life; and he was well aware that the action to be taken must unavoidably carry the odium of political entanglement. Of the gravity of this procedure there was in the body no more discerning spirit than his; none more keenly apprehensive of the trouble it would cause. The act he knew would brew a storm whose violence he must personally feel; that for himself, because of forwardness to girdle this aggressive evil with restraint, there would be hostile feeling having vent in detraction and abuse; that soon the border would blaze with fires of passion whose utmost heat he must endure. But he took no counsel of expediency. The Church, which was dearer than his life, had in his view received an "immedicable wound"-a hurt for which he deemed excision the sole effective remedy. That remedy he would administer, regretfully, indeed, but undeterred by any thought of consequences likely to embarrass him, as no doubt he would have done had

martyrdom been obvious. Yet while he was of those who "refuse not to die," when there is need, for principle or truth, he was among the least impulsive of men. In temperament far removed from rashness or indiscretion, contemplative, cool, at all times master of himself, he was a man as noted for the prudence as for the courage of his counsels-as distinguished for the deliberation as for the daring of his actions.

The closing years of his remarkable career were passed in comparative seclusion. In the quiet home of a married daughter in Alexandria, Va., the worn and shattered hero had all the kindly care which filial affection could minister. For several years preceding his death he was physically disqualified for any active service; but he retained an unabated interest in all that pertained to the welfare of the Church. As during the few last years physical decadence progressed, enfeeblement of faculties more and more appeared, and as the end approached, their grasp, save on the subject of religion, was almost wholly lost. To this they were responsive to the last. A few weeks before the end the writer, with a friend, was admitted to his room, and for a time sought without success to elicit any coherent expression of thought; but when the session of Conference, then near at hand, was spoken of, and he was asked for any message he might wish to send, there was a momentary flashing up of the old fire, as with energy he said: "Yes, yes, the Conference; tell the brethren to preach the Gospel; preach the Son of God, the divine Saviour of men." Thus strongly did the spirit of his life assert itself, even when the poor, worn frame was in "feebleness extreme." Two months later came the inevitable event. For the body it was but the pause of forces wholly spent; for the spirit it was the ending in rest and victory of a

ART. VII.-CONGREGATIONALISM VERSUS OUR

EPISCOPACY.

A MOST notable sign of the strong and growing tendency of Methodism in the United States toward Congregationalism is found in the waning power of the bishops of our Church.

During the first period of Methodist history-from 1766 to 1784-the bishops, who were then called Mr. Wesley's assistants, had almost absolute power over the preachers. They would hear the discussions of the preachers and then decide all questions coming before them; and by their administration of their office they made it clear that American Methodism was closely identified with Methodism in England, not only in doctrines, discipline, and purposes, but also in its external forms and government. Mr. Wesley ruled both preachers and people in all their relations to Methodism, according to the dictates of his own judgment. Mr. Asbury, in these respects at least, was to Methodism here what Mr. Wesley was to Methodism in England.

The decline of this great power has been gradual, and marked by some of the greatest struggles both in public debate and private appeal which have occurred in the history of the Methodist Church. In these struggles two great contending parties have arrayed themselves on the battle-field; one of these exalts the episcopacy in its relations to the General Conference (the law-making body of the Church), and takes high ground for episcopal prerogative; the other magnifies and emphasizes the relative authority of the General Conference. The former claims that the tenure of office in the episcopacy is a life-time; that the right to fix the appointments of the preachers and to choose the presiding elders inheres in the bishops; that to the bishops belongs the exclusive authority to ordain; and that the General Conference is the only body competent to elect bishops.

On the other hand, the opposing party argues that the General Conference of 1808 intended to give large discretional powers to the delegated Conference which was then provided for; that this new body was made the successor to the old imperial Conference, and that it was endowed with all the

authority exercised formerly, barring the restrictions specified in the Six Restrictive Rules.

This latter party has been so successful in its struggles with its opponent that to-day we find the office of the bishop so restricted and narrow as to make it unworthy of comparison with the original, irresponsible, and arbitrary office filled by Asbury. This is clearly seen in the fact that the functions of the bishops have been frequently changed by action of the General Conferences. While some duties have been added to the office of bishops some prerogatives have been cut off. In 1816 the General Conference committed to the bishops the great responsibility of preparing "a course of study" for candidates for the ministry. In 1844 they were ordered to prepare "a course of study" for candidates for orders which should extend over four years.

While in 1840 the bishops were given a specified power "to decide all questions of law in an Annual Conference," that duty was limited by the action of the General Conference of 1872. The constitution found the bishops among the law-makers; it deprived them of those functions. Bishop Hedding says:

The power with which the bishops are invested was formerly much greater than it is now; it being thought best by the General Conference to transfer part of it from time to time either to the elders or the laity.

He goes on to show that they once had power to negative any election of superintendent, elder, or deacon, and to prevent any preacher from publishing any thing they did not approve. They were also judges whether any should be expelled from the Church or retained in it. The day of this paternal government has long since passed away, having been assisted on its journey both by legislative action and popular sentiment. While, as a matter of fact, the bishops always "fixed the appointments" of the preachers, it is to be remembered that authority was committed to them by statute for this work, and also that the General Conference has always made rules to regulate the pastoral term, thus putting restrictions on the bishops in these matters. A notable action of this kind was the extension of the time-limit from three years to five at the last General Conference, in spite of the statement of the bishops in