The distinction between these is very clearly pointed out by the late Thomas Chalmers, a distinguished clergyman of the Presbyterian Church of Scotland, a man eminent for his abilities, and whose position gave him abundant opportunities for observing that of which he speaks. He says: "You easily understand how a taste for music is one thing, and a real submission to the influence of religion is another; how the ear may be regaled by the melody of sound, and the heart may utterly refuse the proper impression of the sense that is conveyed by it; how the sons and daughters of the world may, with their every affection devoted to its perishable vanities, inhale all the delights of enthusiasm, as they sit in crowded assemblage, around the deep and solemn oratorio." "It is a very possible thing, that the moral and the rational and the active man, may have given no entrance into his bosom for any of the sentiments, and yet so overpowered may he be by the charm of vocal conveyance through which they are addressed to him, that he may be made to feel with such an emotion, and to weep with such a tenderness, and to kindle with such a transport, and to glow with such an elevation, as may one and all carry upon them the semblance of sacredness."--_Chalmers' Works, Phila., 1830, p. 107-8._ In speaking of the connection between music and worship, another person, not a member of the Society of Friends, observes: "I firmly believe" "that if we seek to affect the mind by the aid of architecture, painting or music, the impression produced by these adjuncts is just so much subtracted from the worship of the unseen Jehovah. If the outward eye is taken up with material splendor, or forms of external beauty, the mind sees but little of Him who is invisible; the ear that is entranced with the melody of sweet sounds, listens not to the still small voice by which the Lord makes his presence known." "True spiritual access unto God," says another writer, "is not at all furthered by the excitement of the animal or intellectual frame. It is most commonly known, where in abstraction from outward things, the mind, in awful quietude, finds itself gathered into a sense of the presence of Infinite Purity." "By the power of imagination; by the influence of eloquent words; by a stirring swell of elevated music, the mind may be excited; the feelings may be tendered, and we may pour forth verbal supplication, whilst the heart is unchanged." Edward Burrough thus instructively describes the changes which followed the declension of the primitive church from its original state of life and purity.