tihvavy of t:he theological ^tmimty 
 
 PRINCETON • NEW JERSEY 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 The Estate of 
 Harold McAfee Robinson, D,D. 
 
 BV 4015 .J3 1868b 
 Jackson, Thomas, 1783-1873 
 Curiosities of the pulpit, 
 and pulpit literature 
 
CURIOSITIES OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 MEMORABILIA, 
 ANECDOTES, &c., OF CELEBRATED PREACHERS. 
 
 New Pulpit, St Mary's, Stoke Newington- 
 
>*' 
 
 CURIOSITIES OF T^IE PULPIT^ 
 
 AND ^^o^SSBaaB 
 
 PULPIT LITERATURE: 
 
 MEMORABILIA, 
 ANECDOTES, ETC., OF CELEBRATED PRP:ACHERS, 
 
 FROM THE FOURTH CENTURY OF THE CHRISTIAN ERA TO 
 THE PRESENT TIME. 
 
 By THOMAS JACKSON, M.A., 
 
 PKEBENUARV OF ST. PAUL'S CATHEDRAL, AND RECTOR OF STOKE NEWINGTON, LONDON. 
 
 " I say the Pulpit (in the sober use 
 Of its legitimate, peculiar powers), 
 
 Must stand acknowledged, while the world shall stand, 
 The most important and effectual guard. 
 Support and ornament of virtue's cause." — Cowper. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 VIRTUE AND YORSTON, PUBLISHERS. 
 
ji an a i j^* *^ ' ' '^ ■ M H u 1 IT- a y j J T!°!T ^^ 
 
 ^ " ■" " '* 
 
 ^ in if M n u u 1 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 HE present time is marked by much in- 
 quiry into the nature and design of 
 preaching. There is plenty of specula- 
 tion as to what a sermon ought to be ; 
 while a deep-rooted suspicion rests on many minds 
 that the pulpit is gradually losing its power; or that 
 the spirit and temper of the age are unfavourable to 
 the development of great preachers ; or that, as a 
 matter of fact, they are not equal to those of the 
 last century ; or that in style and method they are, 
 with a few brilliant exceptions, radically defective, 
 preaching platitudes, mere stereotyped formulas, 
 without intellectual or spiritual life. 
 
 The present volume has been compiled with the 
 view of assisting such inquiries, directing the 
 thoughts of preachers to the modes by which their 
 
vi Preface. 
 
 predecessors have interested and benefited man- 
 kind, while several extracts are given, designed to 
 show what the preacher should carefully avoid. 
 The general reader, being probably a constant 
 hearer of sermons, will, it may be hoped, find his 
 aptitude to listen increased by the perusal. In fact, 
 many anecdotes have been introduced for his special 
 instruction and amusement. 
 
 It may be doubted whether the art of preaching 
 has declined. While there are, it is freely conceded, 
 fewer stars of the first magnitude in the firmament 
 of the pulpit, there are infinitely more stars shining ; 
 and if some wander, or glitter with borrowed rays, 
 or, like meteors, appear for a few moments and then 
 vanish away, a parallel case to theirs, if not an 
 actual apology for them, may be found in the 
 economy of the visible heavens. 
 
 The short sketches of the ''Wesleyan Methodist 
 Triumvirates " have been furnished by one revered 
 not only by that body, but by good men every- 
 where. It will be seen that the mental eye of their 
 author is not dimmed, nor his critical force abated, 
 though he has nearly reached the ripe age of four- 
 score years and ten. The writer, of course, alludes 
 to his venerable father, several times President of 
 the Wesleyan Conference, and for many years the 
 principal editor of Methodist literature. 
 
Preface. vii 
 
 The present volume Is simply a suggestive com- 
 pilation. The plan of it does not admit of sym- 
 metrical treatment. It contains no mention at all 
 of many famous men — men of renown as preachers. 
 Should it be favourably received by the public, it 
 will be followed by a Second Series, one portion of 
 which will be devoted to gems of pulpit oratory, 
 from the writings of divines of every age and 
 country. The letters of any correspondent suggesting 
 where such treasures or anecdotes may be found, or 
 containing copies of them, with exact references, will 
 be most gratefully received by the Publishers. All 
 criticism of, or reference to, living preachers has 
 been carefully avoided. The author has been a 
 somew^hat diligent reader of sermons for about forty 
 years, and an incumbent in the diocese of London 
 for upwards of thirty, with the exception of the in- 
 terval when he was Principal of the Normal College 
 at Battersea, so that he has enjoyed many oppor- 
 tunities of obtaining information on the subject. 
 But he is painfully conscious of the existence of an 
 infinite store of pulpit wisdom and eloquence of 
 which he has never even heard — of mines of intel- 
 lectual wealth altogether unexplored. Thankful to 
 the Giver of every good gift will he be if, through 
 reading the present volume, a single preacher of the 
 gospel shall be stimulated to try to preach a better 
 
VUl 
 
 Preface. 
 
 sermon — one more calculated to win a soul, to 
 awaken a conscience in this busy, cynical, criticising, 
 but (may it be added without offence ?) somewhat 
 superficial age. 
 
 RectorYj Stoke Newington, 1868, 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 II 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN PULPIT IN THE FOURTH CENTURY, 
 
 21 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE PREACHERS OF THE MIDDLE AGES, DOWN TO THE PERIOD 
 
 OF THE REFORMATION, . . . , .35 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 ANECDOTES AND REMINISCENCES OF CELEBRATED FRENCH, 
 SPANISH, GERMAN, AND OTHER FOREIGN PREACHERS, 
 FROM THE TIME OF THE REFORMATION, . . • 91 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE GREAT FRENCH PREACHERS OF THE SEVENTEENTH AND 
 
 EIGHTEENTH CENTURIES, . . . . .Ill 
 
Contents. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 PAGE 
 ANECDOTES AND REMINISCENCES OF ENGLISH AND SCOTTISH 
 PREACHERS, SINCE THE REFORMATION TO THE END OF 
 THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY, . , . .139 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 REMINISCENCES OF PREACHERS AND PREACHING DURING THE 
 EIGHTEENTH AND NINETEENTH CENTURIES. — QUAINT 
 AMERICAN PREACHERS. — WHITEFIELD AND THE TWO 
 WESLEYS, . . . . . . ,219 
 
 CHAPTER Vni. 
 
 THE SAME SUBJECT CONTINUED. — MODERN PREACHERS AND 
 
 SERMONS. — MISCELLANEOUS ANECDOTES, , , 281 
 
 INDEX, . , 371 
 
CURIOSITIES OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 T may be observed that a well-constructed and 
 well-ordered church is a sort of crystallised 
 epitome, a sermon in stone, illustrating and 
 explaining the gospel system. As the heathen 
 temples were for the most part utterly unsuitable to the 
 assembhes of Christian worshippers, the Roman em- 
 perors, from the beginning of the fourth century after the 
 birth of our blessed Lord, freely placed at the disposal 
 of the bishops and their flocks the vast halls of justice, or 
 courts of law, which were to be found in every consider- 
 able city. These buildings consisted of a broad central 
 nave, with side aisles, one end being circular, and having a 
 platform in front of it, raised on several steps. They were 
 from two to three hundred feet long, and seventy or eighty 
 feet wide. The addition of transepts was, in most cases, 
 an after-thought, intended to symbolise the atoning sacri- 
 fice of Our dear Lord and Saviour by giving the building; 
 
1 2 Churches in the Fourth Century. 
 
 the form of a cross. In the Roman courts of justice the 
 judge sat a little in front of the spot where the altar or 
 Lord's table is placed in Christian churches. The culprit 
 stood immediately in front of this elevated throne, answer- 
 ing to the space between the steps of the altar and the 
 transepts. Thus devout adoration and loud praises to 
 Jesus are offered on the spot corresponding to that where 
 He was once arraigned and condemned. 
 
 Every church built in a spirit of reverential symbolism 
 ought to contain three points to which the eye of the 
 spectator should be instantly directed on entering the 
 sacred precincts. The first should be the altar or Lord's 
 table, occupying the inmost shrine, ever reminding us of 
 the chief and central act of public worship, the token of 
 full communion with the Father, the Son, and the Holy 
 Ghost, the channel of grace to help in times of need, the 
 foretaste of heavenly blessedness and fruition. Near the 
 principal entrance should be the font, in the sacramental 
 water of which infants are made members of Christ, 
 children of God, and inheritors of the kingdom of heaven. 
 This structure stands near the door, because holy baptism 
 is the gate of admission into the privileges and covenants 
 of the Redeemer's kingdom. It should be large enough 
 to admit of the complete immersion of the infant, that if 
 any parents wish to have their child entirely dipped in the 
 water, their pious desire may be gratified, and the child 
 may be literally " buried with Christ in baptism," that 
 " henceforth he should walk in newness of life." In many 
 ancient churches we find the baptistery placed in a side 
 chapel, out of the view of the mass of the congregation ; 
 such is the case at St Patrick's Cathedral in Dublin. In 
 other places, as Pisa in Italy, and some cathedrals in 
 
Pulpit Architecture in Engla?id. 1 3 
 
 Spain, a separate building is provided for the purpose, 
 within the ts/asi/oj, or sacred close or precinct. Conspi- 
 cuous in the church, standing between the font and the 
 altar, but nearer to the altar than the font, is placed the 
 pulpit. This position symboHses the duty of pastoral in- 
 struction. That instruction is to extend from the infant 
 who has been just baptized, to the Christian of ripe age 
 and character, kneeling to receive the memorials of the 
 Redeemer's cross and passion. Hence in that short and 
 admirable homily addressed to god-parents at the close of 
 the baptismal service of the Church of England, we read 
 that they are to call upon their god-children to hear 
 sermons. 
 
 It is observable that in Great Britain two if not three 
 extreme classes of devout thinkers feel no sympathy with 
 the erection of beautiful pulpits. The first are those who 
 hold such transcendental views concerning the importance 
 and efficacy of the sacraments as means of grace, that they 
 regard the ordinance of preaching as little better than rhe- 
 torical vapouring, a sort of excrescence in public worship, to 
 be shortened as much as possible. Others again hold such 
 infinitesimal views of all Christian ordinances whatever, 
 that they think any structure is good enough to preach the 
 gospel in, while not a few fear lest the spirituality of Chris- 
 tian instruction should be lost sight of, amidst the splen- 
 dours which surround its utterance. It is probably owing 
 to the negative influence of these classes that there are 
 so few worthy specimens of pulpit architecture in the 
 country. 
 
 The term pulpit affords a striking instance of the great 
 change of meaning and application which words frequently 
 undergo in the process of time. In the days of heathen Rome 
 
14 The Pulpits of Italy, &>€. 
 
 the word pulpitum signified that part of the stage, as dis- 
 tinguished from the orchestra, in the theatre, on which the 
 actors recited and performed their parts. From this word 
 comes the French pupiti-e, which signifies a reading-desk. 
 In some of the gigantic cathedrals abroad are two pulpits. 
 Such is the case at Milan. In the last century in England 
 our fathers used to build up two lofty pulpits in the centre 
 of the nave, one for the preacher and the other for the read- 
 ing of the prayers ; while a third pulpit, of humbler dimen- 
 sions, was allotted to the parish clerk. Now this form 
 might suit the genius of puritanism, in places of worship 
 where the minister delivers a long extempore prayer, in 
 many cases not altogether unlike a sermon ; but it is not 
 adapted to the blessed old prayer-book service of the 
 Church of England ; in which, as the minister prays with 
 and at the head of his people, they knowing what he is 
 about to say, all being joined in sending up the burning 
 sacrifice of prayer and praise, the minister should be as 
 nearly on a level with the mass of the congregation as is 
 consistent with their being able to hear. England has 
 never been famous for its pulpits. Those of the last cen- 
 tury are the worst. They have neither beauty, nor form, 
 nor character. They are too frequently tasteless ex- 
 crescences, encumbered with unmeaning lumber; and with 
 respect to design, the mere work of the carpenter. The 
 pulpits of Belgium are triumphs sometimes of grotesque 
 singularity, and sometimes of redundant art. The defect 
 of them is that the licence of ornament is not restrained 
 by correct taste, and the object of the structure is forgotten 
 in a vainglorious effort to immortalise the artist. The 
 oldest pulpits of Italy are by far the most beautiful. They 
 are of stone or marble, with inlaid or mosaic compart- 
 
Fulpits preferred by the Jesuits. 1 5 
 
 ments. Great cost both of material and workmanship 
 was bestowed upon them, and they command unquahfied 
 admiration. Far different are they from the pulpits of the 
 modern Roman Catholic school, which symbolise the 
 vicious system of the ultramontanes and the Jesuits. The 
 latter are a jumbled mass of ornament, with canopies in 
 the form of clouds, curtains, palm-branches, angelical 
 boys with their heels in the air, and every variety of thea- 
 trical extravagance. 
 
 It has been already remarked, that one class of persons 
 who depreciate handsome pulpits, do so from an avowed 
 desire to make light of the ordinance of preaching. Con- 
 sidering that until the last few years the common phrase 
 describing attendance at divine service was, " I sit under 
 Mr So-and-so," it cannot be surprising that a reaction 
 of public opinion should have followed, and that preach- 
 ing should be deemed of httle value. A few brief obser- 
 vations may serve to keep devout minds from the extremes 
 of excess and defect upon a matter so important. 
 
 The complaint that the influence of the pulpit is and 
 ought to be on the wane — that, in short, preaching is fool- 
 ibhness, is one of no modern origin. It dates from the 
 time of the apostles themselves. It may spring from want 
 of sympathy with the preacher, or with the subject-matter 
 of his discourses. It is freely conceded that there has 
 been in every age a considerable number of dull and 
 uninteresting sermons; comparatively few men are born 
 orators, or acquire the art of influencing large assemblies. 
 Sometimes again we see a man of the most subtle intellec- 
 tual gifts, and the profoundest learning, set to minister to a 
 handful of unlettered peasants, while on the other hand 
 there is occasionally no proportion between the mental 
 
1 6 Is the Liflue?ice of the Pulpit declining ? 
 
 culture of the refined and critical audience and the shal- 
 low platitudes of the preacher. But, after all, the greatest 
 dislike to the ordinance of preaching is found in those 
 who are indifferent as to religion. St Paul's phrase, " The 
 foolishness of preaching,^' means the signal folly of the 
 doctrines of the gospel, not as enunciated by the preacher, 
 but as set before the minds of men who do not understand 
 them, and do not wish to understand. " We preach Christ 
 crucified," says the apostle, " unto the Jews a stumbUng- 
 block, and unto the Greeks foolishness ; but unto them 
 which are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power 
 of God, and the wisdom of God." To the Wind infatuation 
 of the superstitious Jew, to the unprofitable curiosity of the 
 speculative Greek ; the former overflowing with prejudice, 
 the latter with the insolence of sophistry ; to these the in- 
 trinsic excellence and real grandeur of the gospel are but 
 as sounding brass and tinkling cymbal. Yet, in spite of 
 these difficulties, the foolishness of God is eventually 
 proved to be wiser than men, and the weakness of God 
 to be stronger than men. 
 
 But the fact may fairly be questioned, whether the 
 influence of the pulpit is declining? It is true, as has 
 been well remarked by a clerical writer, that no lawyer 
 priest now keeps the king's conscience or dispenses justice 
 from the bench. No bishop statesman or diplomatist 
 holds the seals of office, insinuates himself into state 
 secrets, and diverts to the sacred caUing the respect due 
 to secular authority. From the same and concurrent 
 causes, the modern sermon has lost of necessity many 
 elements of its ancient power. But such elements were 
 accidental, if not unwholesome and injurious, to the great 
 ends for which the ordinance of preaching was instituted. 
 
The True Tnfiueiice of the PuI_pU. 17 
 
 Time was when the preacher revealed the state secret, 
 announced the arrival of a new dynasty, and did the work 
 of Reuter's telegrams. It is better that in the present age 
 he should occupy narrower ground. The space he has to 
 cover, so to speak, is not so large, but the fire of his 
 weapon may be more concentrated. 
 
 It may be argued that the influence of the pulpit will 
 never wane so long as sin is in the world and death by 
 sin, so long as man requires the consoling thought that God 
 has set forth a propitiation for our sins, that the infinite 
 and unfathomable gulf between the moral Governor of the 
 universe and His rebelhous subjects has been bridged 
 over by Him who is alike the Way, the Truth, and the 
 Life. There may be a repulsive and foolish aspect pre- 
 sented by the gospel in every age to certain characters 
 and classes. Some will require a " sign" of the preacher's 
 commission, and the documents that accredit him. Some 
 will seek after " wisdom," will demand an explanation from 
 him of the fitness of the moral system of Christianity, and 
 of its harmonious correspondence not only with the great 
 laws of the visible world, but with those moral axioms 
 which proceed from the same eternal wisdom and power. 
 In enunciating such principles, in arguing upon them, and 
 illustrating them, the preacher may be painfully deficient ; 
 he may find his reasonings repelled, if not with the scowl 
 of contempt, at least with the smile of pity. But he will 
 have miscalculated his resources, if he depends upon such 
 preaching for the success of his work. His heart will not 
 fail, nor will his arm be unnerved, when he is told by men 
 who will sit any length of time to hear a sensational drama^ 
 that sermons ought to be very short. He will bide his 
 time, calmly awaiting the golden opportunity when God's 
 
1 8 The True Influence of the Pulpit. 
 
 strength will be made perfect in his weakness, and when 
 the heart of that gainsayer will be touched by some word 
 spoken in season. 
 
 The central topic of all Christian preaching is the 
 doctrine of a crucified Redeemer. It is, on the one 
 hand, the work and the process of redemption, and the 
 glad tidings which spread it abroad. It is, on the other, 
 the practical effects of that Gospel in modifying, renewing, 
 sublimating, every character upon which it is brought to 
 bear. The declaration of the apostle of the Gentiles is 
 an emphatic summary of a good sermon : " I determined 
 not to know anything among you, save Jesus Christ and 
 Him crucified." That declaration forms the concentrated 
 essence, the very pith and substance of the whole New 
 Testament ; and when those who rightfully claim to be re- 
 ceived as ministers of Christ and stewards of the mysteries 
 of God, make that topic the aim, the effort, the habitual 
 theme of their teaching, they prepare the way of the 
 Lord, they make straight in the desert a highway for our 
 God ; they illustrate the singular and unparalleled events 
 by which every valley was to be exalted and every moun- 
 tain and hill to be made low, the crooked to be made 
 straight, the rough places plain, the glory of the Lord to 
 be revealed, and all flesh to see that glory together. 
 
 It is true that the message of salvation does not appear 
 at all times to all persons to be clothed equally with the 
 power of God. While the conscience of one man is 
 touched, his self-will humbled, his pride laid low — while 
 the refuge of lies in which he intrenched himself, as in an 
 impregnable fortress, is invaded and broken down; — to 
 another the realities of the eternal world will appear so 
 distant and misty as to offer no attractions, suggest no 
 
The True Influence of the PulpU. ig 
 
 dangers, invite no change of conduct or amendment of 
 life. " The wind bloweth where it Hsteth, and ye hear the 
 sound thereof, but cannot tell whence it cometh, and whither 
 it goeth : so is every one that is born of the Sphit." A 
 good seaman sets every sail when, in the midst of a calm, 
 he descries the distant sign of the waking wind, the little 
 cloud like an airy veil over the horizon, the dimples on the 
 face of the ocean, the freshening of the air. So the Christian 
 waits and watches for the faintest whispers of the Holy 
 Spirit — of Him who moves on the waters of human action 
 — and forthwith spring motion and warmth, light and life. 
 
 The attitude proper to the Christian minister under 
 such impressive circumstances must be that which charac- 
 terised the prophet when, filled with a spirit of mingled 
 confidence and expectation, he tarried the Lord's leisure. 
 His sentiments may be expressed in the solemn determi- 
 nation, " I will go there in the strength of the Lord God, 
 making mention of His righteousness, even of His only." 
 He will appear before the people not only with the earnest- 
 ness of passion, but with a calm and settled persuasion 
 that his work sooner or later will not be in vain. The 
 message carries its power within itself. He need not 
 affect a sanctimonious austerity with his people. He may 
 live among them with the familiarity and frankness which, 
 if it occasionally expose him to insult, yet, weighed in the 
 balances of life and enjoyment, is infinitely better than the 
 distance and dignity affected by some public functionaries. 
 The pastor who thoroughly believes the atonement, and 
 bravely preaches the remission of sins through a crucified 
 Saviour, may live in a sober yet unshrinking assertion of 
 his independence on the smile of a patron or the frown 
 of a tyrant. 
 
20 Sermons not Worship. 
 
 A pastoral ministry which has for its foundation Jesus 
 Christ and Him crucified, may draw its illustrations from 
 every varied incident recorded in the Bible, every signal 
 event of public history. The nursery of children may be 
 the theme of discussion when we remember Who was the 
 " Child that was set for the rise and fall of many in Israel." 
 The marriage of a man and of a woman is encircled with 
 a new and peculiar gravity and grandeur when we connect 
 it with the words of the apostle, " This is a great mystery, 
 but I speak concerning Christ and the Church." The 
 humblest occupations of rural life are dignified by the 
 thought of Him who after His resurrection appeared in 
 the guise of the gardener. The mortal puts on immor- 
 tality when the minister preaches, "I know that my 
 redeem.er liveth ; I am the resurrection and the life, saith 
 
 the Lord." 
 
 ******** 
 
 An eminent preacher used to say — " Sermons are not 
 worship; they are but means to an end. Ends and 
 means must not be confounded. The road to London is 
 not London." 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN PULPIT IN THE FOURTH CENTURY. 
 
 HE sermon of Our Blessed Lord on the Mount, 
 and His other divine discourses, addressed not 
 to selected pupils and admiring friends, but 
 emphatically to the multitude — to publicans 
 and sinners, to toil-worn traders and humble artisans — 
 are the first original examples, as they are the unapproach- 
 able models, of Christian preaching. St Peter's inspired 
 discourse on the day of Pentecost, when three thousand 
 were pricked to the heart, naturally follows them ; and so 
 we study in succession the addresses of the apostles, and 
 such specimens of the sacred oratory of the first three 
 centuries as have been handed down to us, until we reach 
 the fourth century, when the art of preaching culminated ; 
 and from John of the Golden Mouth, presbyter and 
 bishop, from the lips of St Augustine and St Basil, there 
 issued sermons of such intellectual strength, such per- 
 suasive, loving force, as have been rarely equalled, and 
 certainly never surpassed. There were giants in those 
 days. Among others, St Pantaenus, the Sicihan bee, who 
 flourished towards the close of the second century, was so 
 called because his sermons were like honey flowing from 
 the Rock of Ages. St Cyprian and Ephrem Syrus were 
 
22 Gibbon on the Power of the Pulpit. 
 
 also everywhere famed for their pungent and sublime 
 appeals. The historian Gibbon, in the twentieth chapter of 
 " The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire," section 
 vi., describes with cynical sarcasm the rise and progress 
 of pulpit oratory; but while intending to depreciate the 
 motives of the great preachers among the Nicene Fathers, 
 he bears involuntary testimony to their method and influ- 
 ence. In this point of view his words deserve quota- 
 tion : — 
 
 " Every popular government has experienced the effects 
 of rude or artificial eloquence. The coldest nature is 
 animated, the firmest reason is moved, by the rapid com- 
 munication of the prevailing impulse, and each hearer is 
 affected by his own passions, and by those of the surround- 
 ing multitude. The ruin of civil hberty had silenced the 
 demagogues of Athens and the tribunes of Rome; the 
 custom of preaching, which seems to constitute a con- 
 siderable part of Christian devotion, had not been intro- 
 duced jnto the temples of antiquity ; and the ears of 
 monarchs were never invaded by the harsh sound of 
 popular eloquence till the pulpits of the empire were 
 filled with sacred orators who possessed some advantages 
 unknown to their profane predecessors. The arguments 
 and rhetoric of the tribune were instantly opposed, with 
 equal arms, by skilful and resolute antagonists ; and the 
 cause of truth and reason might derive an accidental sup- 
 port from the conflict of hostile passions. The bishop, 
 or some distinguished presbyter to whom he cautiously 
 delegated the powers of preaching, harangued, without 
 the danger of interruption or reply, a submissive multi- 
 tude, whose minds had been prepared and subdued by 
 the awful ceremonies of religion. Such was the strict 
 
Preaching Powe?' in the Fourth Century. 23 
 
 subordination of the Catholic Church, that the same con- 
 certed sounds might issue at once from an hundred pulpits 
 of Italy or Egypt, if they were tuned by the master-hand 
 of the Roman or Alexandrian Primate. The design of 
 this institution was laudable, but the fruits were not always 
 salutary. The preachers recommended the practice of the 
 social duties, but they exalted the perfection of monastic 
 virtue, which is painful to the individual and useless to 
 mankind. Their charitable exhortations betrayed a secret 
 wish that the clergy might be permitted to manage the 
 wealth of the faithful for the benefit of the poor. The 
 most sublime representations of the attributes and laws of 
 the Deity were sullied by an idle mixture of metaphysical 
 subtleties, puerile rites, and fictitious miracles; and they 
 expatiated, with the most fervent zeal, on the religious 
 merit of hating the adversaries and obeying the ministers 
 of the Church. When the public peace was distracted by 
 heresy and schism, the sacred orators sounded the trumpet 
 of discord, and perhaps of sedition. The understandings 
 of their congregations were perplexed by mystery, the 
 passions were inflamed by invectives, and they rushed 
 from the Christian temples of Antioch or Alexandria, pre- 
 pared either to suffer or to inflict martyrdom. The cor- 
 ruption of taste and language is strongly marked in the 
 vehement declamations of the Latin bishops ; but the 
 compositions of Gregory and Chrysostom have been 
 compared with the most splendid models of Attic, or at 
 least of Asiatic eloquence." 
 
 St Chrysostom may be selected as the best specimen of 
 preaching power in the fourth century. He was born in 
 354 at Antioch, on the Orontes, then, as the apostate 
 Julian informs us, the very centre of splendour, luxury, 
 
24 S^ CJwysostom's Method of Preaching. 
 
 vice, and depraved sophistical thought. » He owed much 
 to his venerable instructor, but far more to his refined 
 and accomplished mother. There is a peculiarity about 
 his homilies which renders them invaluable to the archaeo- 
 logist, as well as to the theologian and devout Christian. 
 They set before us, as in a photograph, the manners, the 
 costume, the family life, the vices, the politics of the wild 
 and turbulent age in which he lived. "The emperor, the 
 commissioners, bishops, and prefects," says one of his 
 panegyrists, " are by his genius preserved like pieces of 
 weed in amber." One can see how the fashionable gentle- 
 woman of the new Rome that was rising on the Bosphorus 
 attired her feet and dressed her hair. He was a man of 
 infinite resources. He drew his illustrations, analogies, 
 and arguments from every department of the creation, 
 even from grotesque incidents which might occur in the 
 church while he was preaching ; but, above all, from the 
 rich stores of the inspired writings of the Old Testament. 
 These he diligently studied and fervently believed, and, 
 therefore, he quoted them with an unction which was 
 irresistible. And it may be maintained, that when the 
 same Scriptures are so studied, believed, and quoted as 
 the foundation of argument in the present day, it is dis- 
 covered that they have not lost one jot or tittle of their 
 vital force. He who is "mighty in the Old Testament 
 Scriptures " will be a winner of souls. 
 
 Any attempt to illustrate St Chrysostom's method of 
 preaching from his numerous writings, will appear to those 
 who have diligently studied them like the conduct of the 
 simple Athenian, who, when he had a country house to 
 sell, brought a single brick into the agora as a specimen 
 to enable the intending purchaser to judge of the build- 
 
The Great Christian Orator. 25 
 
 ing. But as few have the leisure, and still fewer the 
 learning requisite to realise all the golden stores of the 
 great Christian orator, the attempt must be made. Let 
 the following quotations invite the reader to ' explore 
 further the rich mine of treasure. 
 
 Take, for instance, the following passage on 
 
 The Infinite Love of the Lord. 
 
 " A man has been insulted, and we are all in fear and 
 trembling — both those of us who have been guilty of this 
 insult, and those of us who are conscious of innocence. 
 But God is insulted every day. Why do I say every day] 
 Rather should I say every hour, by rich and by poor, by 
 those who are at ease and those who are in trouble, by 
 those who calumniate and those who are calumniated; 
 and yet there is never a word of this ; therefore, God has 
 permitted our fellow-servant to be insulted, that thou 
 mayest know the loving-kindness of the Lord. This 
 offence has been committed only for the first time, yet 
 we do not, on that account, expect to reap the advantage 
 of excuse or apology. We provoke God every day, and 
 make no movement of returning to Him ; and yet He 
 bears with all long-suffering ; see you how great is the 
 loving-kindness of the Lord. In this present outrage, the 
 culprits have been apprehended, thrown into prison, and 
 punished ; and yet we are in fear. He who has been 
 insulted has not heard of what has been done, nor pro- 
 nounced sentence ; and we are all trembling. But God 
 hears day by day the insults offered to Him, and no one 
 turns to Him, although God is so kind and loving. With 
 Him it is enough to acknowledge the sin, and the guilt is 
 absolved. . . . Do you not hence conclude how unspeak- 
 
26 The Eloquence of St Chrysostoni. 
 
 able is the love of God, how boundless, how it surpasses 
 all description % Here he who has been insulted is of the 
 same nature with ourselves ; only once in all his life has 
 he been so treated, and that not to his face, not while he 
 was present and seeing and hearing, and yet none of the 
 offenders have been pardoned. But in the case of God, 
 not one of these things can be said. For so vast i^ the 
 distance between man and God, that no words can express 
 it, and every day is He insulted while He is present, look- 
 ing on, and hearing; and yet He neither hurls thunderbolts, 
 nor bids the sea overflow the earth and drown all its in- 
 habitants, nor commands the earth to yawn and swallow 
 up all who have insulted Him ; but He forbears, and is 
 long-suffering, and offers pardon to those by whom He 
 has been outraged, if they only repent and promise to do 
 so no more. Oh, surely it is time to exclaim, Who can 
 utter the mighty acts of the Lord ? Who can show forth 
 His praise % " 
 
 Study the splendid and indignant oration which he 
 pronounced when his enemies were sentencing him to 
 banishment, of which the following startling passage is a 
 specimen, imperfectly rendered in the translation, for the 
 original is inimitable : — 
 
 " What can I fear % Will it be death % But you know 
 that Christ is my life, and that I shall gain by death. 
 Will it be exile % But the earth and all its fulness is the 
 Lord's. Will it be the loss of wealth % But we brought 
 nothing into the world, and can carry nothing out. Thus 
 all the terrors of the world are contemptible in my eyes ; 
 and I smile at all its good things. Poverty I do not fear. 
 Riches I do not sigh for. Death I do not shrink from ; 
 and life I do not desire, save only for the progress of your 
 
'JTie Eloquence of St Chrysostom. 27 
 
 souls. But you know, my friends, the true cause of my 
 fall. It is that I have not lined my house with rich 
 tapestry. It is that I have not clothed me in robes of 
 silk. It is that I have not flattered the effeminacy and 
 sensuality of certain men, nor laid gold and silver at their 
 feet. But why need I say more % Jezebel is raising her 
 persecution, and EHas must fly; Herodias is taking her 
 pleasure, and John must be bound with chains; the 
 Egyptian wife tells her lie, and Joseph must be thrust into 
 prison. And so, if they banish me, I shall be like Elias ; 
 if they throw me into the mire, like Jeremiah ; if they 
 plunge me into the sea, like the prophet Jonah ; if into 
 the pit, like Daniel ; if they stone me, it is Stephen that 
 I shall resemble ; John the forerunner, if they cut off my 
 head ; Paul, if they beat me with stripes ; Isaiah, if they 
 saw me asunder." 
 
 On one occasion, while he continued preaching, pro- 
 bably seated on his high chair, cathedra, or throne in 
 the choir of the church, the sunlight grew dim, and an 
 attendant began to kindle the lamps. On this the atten- 
 tion of the congregation was distracted; the preacher 
 perceived this, and recalled their wandering thoughts in 
 the following pungent words : — 
 
 " Let me beg you to arouse yourselves, and to put 
 away that sluggishness of mind. But why do I say this % 
 At the very time when I am setting forth before you the 
 Scriptures, you are turning your eyes away from me, and 
 fixing them upon the lamps^ and upoii the man who is 
 lighting the lamps. Oh, of what a sluggish soul is this the 
 mark, to leave the preacher, and turn to him ! I, too, am 
 kindling the fire of the SciHpticres ; and upon my tongue 
 there is burning a taper, the taper of sound doctrine. 
 
28 The Eloquence of St Basil. 
 
 Greater is this light, and better, than the light that is 
 yonder. For, unlike that man, it is no wick steeped in 
 oil that I am lighting up. I am rather inflaming souls, 
 moistened with piety, by the desire of heavenly discourse." 
 
 He delighted to preach on the vanity of worldly pomp, 
 the deceitfulness of riches, the uncertainty and evanescence 
 of human life, the duty of making large and liberal ofi'er- 
 ings for the sustenance of the poor and the spread of the 
 gospel. 
 
 Many of St Chrysostom's boldest passages were extem- 
 pore^ and would never have come down to us had he not 
 been attended by swift and admiring shorthand writers. 
 He was sometimes scandalised by the loud applauses of 
 the people, following some grand paragraph : something 
 like the hum which used to tickle the ears of Bishop 
 Burnet when he preached in the churches of the city of 
 London. St Chrysostom's tone and temper were too high 
 and solemn to be gratified by such irregular demonstra- 
 tions of approval ; while Gregory Nazianzen is said to 
 have enjoyed them as tokens that the people listened 
 attentively, admitting the force of his arguments, and pre- 
 pared to follow his godly counsel and reproof 
 
 The soft and deUcious eloquence of St Basil must not 
 be forgotten in any attempt to sketch the style of the 
 preaching of the fourth century. His great enjoyment 
 consisted in preaching to the poor working- classes of 
 C^sarea; and when he died, such crowds attended his 
 funeral that not a few were crushed to death. 
 
 Mr Horace Moule, in his able " Inquiry into the History 
 of Christian Oratory during the First Five Centuries," 
 gives the following sketch of the style and method of St 
 Augustine's pulpit ministrations : — 
 
Style of St Augustine. 29 
 
 " Of Augustine, it may most truly be said, that he, if 
 any man, had experience of those phases in the soul's 
 history, when * the tongue cleaves even to the roof of the 
 mouth, and when silence is kept even from good words.' 
 It was not only his being Prelate of the West, instead of a 
 Prelate of the East, that occasioned the wide difference 
 between himself and Basil, Gregory, or even Chrysostom. 
 The intense passion of his temperament, which imparted 
 so much energy to his intellectual operations, and which 
 is often the cause of the rich and vigorous flow of his 
 language, produces also that quiet rejection of rhetorical 
 ornament which we find so prevalent throughout his un- 
 pretending sermons. The De Civitate Dei has, as might be 
 expected, a good store of florid language, some specimens 
 exhibiting the very highest style of beauty. But his subject 
 in that case not only was suited to elaborate ornament ; it 
 sometimes imperatively demanded the very grandest utter- 
 ance. The general tone of Augustine was, however, that 
 of a man who, while he was too sensible to despise the 
 aids of artistic eloquence, was himself, for the most part, 
 far above them. His words bearing directly upon the 
 subject are tinged with a speaking sadness. ' Eloquence 
 is another stream of Babylon; it is one of the many objects 
 qiice aniantur et transeiint; ' it is a mere frigus et Aqiiilo, 
 compared with the genial breezes of God, the Austet 
 translatus de coslo^ 
 
 From this statement, marked by severe critical acumen 
 and wisdom, it may be inferred that we are not to look 
 for sparkHng gems of eloquence in St Augustine's dis- 
 courses. They are terse and argumentative, especially 
 setting forth what are popularly called the doctrines of 
 grace. The supremacy of the divine will, the absolute 
 
30 Venerable Bede. 
 
 freedom of the divine election, the godHness of man an 
 entirely supernatural work ; these are his favourite topics. 
 John Calvin, with the ruthless logic of his French analytical 
 mind, did but develope them, and by the process often 
 spoiled them ; while some of his in discriminating followers 
 have tacked and fastened on to the precious doctrine of 
 the absolute freedom of God's electing grace, the horrible 
 fiction of the reprobation of individuals from all eternity \ 
 the living and helpful truth to the deadly, corrupting, and 
 soul-disheartening he. 
 
 VENERABLE BEDE 
 
 Was born in 635, and died in 672. He resided a long 
 time at Jarrow. He wrote many homihes. He stands 
 midway between the preachers of the Nicene period and 
 those of the Middle Ages. The following short extract 
 will give some idea of his style. Bede supposes St Paul and 
 St Michael to petition that the lost souls might have rest on 
 Sundays from their punishment. He says, in explanation — 
 " It was the Lord's will that Paul should see the punish- 
 ments of that place. He beheld trees all on fire, and 
 sinners tormented on those trees; and some were hung 
 by the feet, some by their hands, some by the hair, some 
 by the neck, some by the tongue, and some by the arm. 
 And again he saw a furnace of fire burning with seven 
 flames, and many were punished in it : and there were 
 seven plagues round about this furnace ; the first was 
 snow, the second ice, the third fire, the fourth blood, the 
 fifth serpents, the sixth lightning, the seventh stench ; and 
 in that furnace itself were the souls of the sinners who 
 repented not in this life. There they are tormented, and 
 every one receiveth according to his works ; some weep, 
 
Style of the Venerable Bcde. 31 
 
 some howl, some groan, some burn and desire to have 
 rest, but find it not, because souls can never die." 
 
 Again : — 
 
 " And after this he saw between heaven and earth the 
 soul of a sinner howling betwixt seven devils that had on 
 that day departed from the body." 
 
 Then in another passage : — 
 
 *' And Paul demanded of the angel. How many kinds of 
 punishment there were in hell % And the angel said, There 
 are a hundred and forty-four thousand; and if there were a 
 hundred eloquent men, each having four iron tongues, 
 that spoke from the beginning of the world, they could 
 not reckon up the torments of hell." 
 
 The preacher then draws the practical conclusion : — 
 
 " But let us, beloved brethren, hearing of these so great 
 torments, be converted to our Lord, that we may be able 
 to reign with the angels." 
 
 This good but credulous man was never canonized; 
 but he obtained the title of " venerable " by the volun- 
 tary homage of his contemporaries, and from the utility 
 of his works ; a tribute much more honourable to his 
 memory. The monks, however, not satisfied with such 
 respectable cause for the appellation, have favoured us 
 with two accounts of its origin. " When blind," say some 
 of these authors, " he preached to a heap of stones, think- 
 ing himself in a church, and the stones were so much 
 affected by his eloquence and piety, that they answered, 
 Amen, ve7terable JBede, Amen." While others assert that his 
 scholars being desirous of placing upon his tomb an epitaph 
 in rhyme, agreeably to the usage of the times, wrote — 
 
 " Hac sunt in fossa, 
 Bedae presbyteri ossa," 
 
32 6*/ Boniface, 
 
 which not meeting complete approbation, the much-vexed 
 poet determined to fast until he should succeed better. 
 Accordingly, he expunged the word presbyieri, and in vain 
 attempted to substitute one more sonorous and consistent 
 with metre, until faUing fast asleep, an angel filled up the 
 blank thus left, and rendered the couplet thus : — 
 
 " Hac sunt in fossa, 
 Bedse venerabilis ossa." 
 
 Our good historian is frequently styled Admirable Bede, 
 as well as the Venerable Bede, as already mentioned. 
 The chair in which he composed his ecclesiastical his- 
 tory is still preserved at Jarrow. Some few years since 
 this chair was entrusted to the custody of a person who 
 had been accustomed to nautical affairs, and who used, 
 by a whimsical mistake, very excusable in a sailor, to 
 exhibit it as a curiosity which formerly belonged to the 
 great Admiral Bede, upon whose exploits he ventured 
 several encomiums consistent with the naval character. 
 
 ST BONIFACE. 
 
 Among the few remarkable preachers of the Anglo- 
 Saxon era. Saint Boniface stands foremost. He was born 
 in Devonshire, about 680. He was the apostle of Fries- 
 land and Central Germany. After labouring with great 
 success for upwards of thirty years among the half-Chris- 
 tian, half-heathen natives of that region, he was slain by 
 the Frisians near Utrecht. He founded four cathedrals in 
 Germany. He first preached to the fishermen of the Isle 
 of Wight, where the village of Bonchurch still* recalls his 
 memory. A magnificent basilica is dedicated by his 
 name at Munich. It is the exact model of a court of 
 
Bishops ^Ifric and Wuljstan, 33 
 
 justice of the age of Constantine, and is filled with vast 
 frescoes representing the principal events of the martyr's 
 life. 
 
 BISHOP iELFRIC 
 
 Must not be overlooked in any work which touches upon 
 English sermons. He is said to have been the son of an 
 Earl of Kent. While yet a youth, he assumed the habit 
 of the Benedictines in the monastery of Abingdon. In 988 
 he was made Abbot of St Albans, and shortly after was 
 promoted to the Bishopric of Wilton. In 994, he was 
 translated to the Archbishopric of Canterbury, where he 
 died, Nov. 16, 1005. He was distinguished not only for 
 learning, but for zeal in the spread of knowledge. He 
 was the first in the country that ever issued formally a 
 volume of sermons. They were partly translated from the 
 Latin fathers, and partly compiled from homilies in Ger- 
 man and Anglo-Saxon, and they were the more valuable 
 because few men could preach. 
 
 BISHOP WULFSTAN 
 
 Was an eminent Anglo-Saxon prelate in the tenth and 
 eleventh centuries. During the earlier part of his episcopal 
 career, the city of Bristol was a great slave-mart. Rows ot 
 young people, of both sexes, and of conspicuous beauty, 
 were tied together with ropes, and placed for sale in the 
 public market. They were exported to Ireland, the young 
 women having been previously prostituted. Wulfstan 
 sometimes stayed two months amongst the ignorant and 
 half-heathen population of the city, preaching every Lord's 
 day. In process of time, he induced them to abandon their 
 
 c 
 
34 Bishop Wulfsta?i, 
 
 wicked trade, and they became an example to all Eng- 
 land. 
 
 When Wulfstan was consecrated Bishop of Sherbourne, 
 St Dunstan strongly advised him 7iot to let his tongue 
 cease to preach. There was the greater necessity for this 
 counsel, as so few were experts in the divine art. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE PREACHERS OF THE MIDDLE AGES, DOWN TO THE 
 PERIOD OF THE REFORMATION. 
 
 ! 
 
 WO able works have been recently published on 
 this subject ; one by the late learned Dr Neale 
 of Sackville College, entitled " Mediaeval 
 Preachers and Mediaeval Preaching : A Series 
 of Extracts translated from the Sermons of the Middle 
 Ages, with Notes and an Introduction." The other is, 
 " Post-Mediaeval Preachers ; Some Account of the most 
 celebrated Preachers of the Fifteenth, Sixteenth, and Seven- 
 teenth Centuries, with Outlines of their Sermons, and Speci- 
 mens of their Style. By S. Baring Gould, M.A." Both 
 these volumes will amply repay perusal. They are full of 
 helping and suggestive matter, ready to the mind and pen 
 of the weary priest, who, after a day's toil in the distract- 
 ing round of minute and inconclusive, but not the less 
 necessary clerical duty, sits down in his study to prepare a 
 sermon. They will strengthen and refresh his soul, like 
 the upper and nether springs. Nor are they less rich in in- 
 terest to the general reader. 
 
 The records which have been handed down to us of 
 sermons delivered during the middle ages, would, upon 
 a slight and superficial survey, conduct us to diame- 
 
36 Preachers of the Middle Ages. 
 
 trically opposite conclusions. On the one side, we see 
 friar preachers deahng with the great truths of revelation, 
 as the performers of the mystery dramas dealt with the 
 events of the Old and New Testaments ; that is, presenting 
 them with strange and grotesque uncouthness, and always, 
 if possible, giving them an aspect more or less ridiculous, 
 yet with an equally strange intermingling of wild imagery 
 and tender pathos. On the other side, we see men 
 imbued with apostolical piety and fervour, preaching 
 with apostolical unction and force ; now thundering ava- 
 lanches of vehement remonstrance against every form of 
 evil, whether in high or low places, and now breathing 
 consolation and hope to the penitent in the most tender 
 tones. Monks preach before monarchs, and lash the vices 
 of the royal courtiers. They mount the pulpit of the 
 abbey church, and abbot and prior, simple recluses and 
 lay brethren, acolytes and door-keepers, wince alike under 
 their severe and homely thrusts. Pretentious women 
 enter the sanctuary in all the pomp and pride of station, 
 of splendid attire or youthful beauty ; they leave it 
 thoroughly ashamed of themselves, weeping tears of re- 
 pentance, and saying in heart, if not with voice articulate, 
 " God be merciful to me a sinner." It is observable that 
 some of the preachers of Austria and Italy still affect the 
 style and manner of these old times, and that the listener 
 to their discourses might imagine that one of the grotesque 
 gargoyles had become suddenly vocal, or a statue had 
 stepped down from its flamboyant niche and was 
 addressing the congregation. The following anecdotes 
 and specimens will serve to illustrate the foregoing intro- 
 ductory remarks : — 
 
Philip de Narni. ^'j 
 
 PHILIP DE NARNI. 
 
 Rapin, obtaining his information from Balzac, makes 
 mention of a Capuchin, named PhiHp de Narni, who, 
 under Pope Gregory XV., preached at Rome with so 
 much strength, eloquence, and zeal, that he never spoke 
 in public but he made the people cry about the 
 streets, when they came from his sermons, "■ Loj'd, have 
 mercy upon us." It is even said that, having preached 
 once before the pope, on the obligations bishops are 
 under to reside in their respective dioceses, he was so 
 earnest and zealous upon that subject, that he frightened 
 thirty bishops Avho heard him, and the next day they all 
 hurried away from the so-called capital of Western Chris- 
 tendom. Foulque de Neuilly was a similar character, 
 who was so popular that he had to buy a new cassock 
 almost every day, as the people tore it to atoms and 
 carried it away piecemeal, so desirous were they of pos- 
 sessing a shred of his garments. 
 
 THE capuchin's SERMON AT THE CATHEDRAL OF ST 
 STEPHEN, AT VIENNA. 
 
 A Capuchin, preaching a Lent lecture at the great 
 Cathedral of St Stephen, at Vienna, is said to have 
 startled his audience by a fearful narration, somewhat to 
 the following effect : — 
 
 " There was once a huge and wealthy monastery in this 
 duchy. Its vineyards produced rich and well-flavoured 
 wine. Its barns were filled with all manner of store. 
 Fat beeves chewed the cud in its meadows. Carp by 
 thousands were leaping in its fish-ponds. The neighbour- 
 ing trout-stream was the pride of the monks and the envy 
 of every other religious house in Germany. Well ! the 
 
38 A Captichifi^s Sermojt at Vienna. 
 
 reverend fathers ate, drank, and were merry. They never 
 kept a Lenten fast. They were utterly unconscious of 
 the pangs of hunger, or the humihations of penury, so they 
 never fed the famishing, or clothed the naked. They had 
 more wine than they required for the mass, and not 
 enough to turn their mills with, so they caroused from 
 night till morning, and from morning to night. One 
 solemn day, a day of penitence and prayer, according to 
 the rules of their order, they were indulging in wild uproar 
 and revelry. The refectory echoed with snatches of licen- 
 tious song, and laughter following some double-edged jibe. 
 Suddenly, a loud knock was heard at the outer door, 
 knock, knock, knock. The janitor went to open it, and 
 was startled by the apparition of a thin, tall man; his 
 skull bones scarcely covered with the parchment-skin 
 stretched over them. He was attired in the frock of the 
 order, but the shape was antiquated, the material scarcely 
 to be recognised ; it was, moreover, threadbare and moth- 
 eaten. He asked, in hollow and sepulchral tones, for ad- 
 mittance. The janitor was alarmed, and, shutting the gate 
 on the stranger, went to seek instructions from the supe- 
 rior. * There stands at the gate an odd, queer man, who 
 asks for admittance. He wears the frock of our order, 
 
 but ' * No biifs,' said the abbot ; ' let him in. We 
 
 must show hospitality to the brethren ; place him a chair 
 by my side, fill him a goblet of wine, and fetch forthwith 
 knife, platter, and pasty.' The strange monk was intro- 
 duced ; he bowed ; he took his seat ; but his head was 
 covered with his cowl, and he ate not a morsel, he drank 
 not a drop. In a few minutes more knocks were heard at 
 the gate ; ktiock, knock, KNOCK ! Again the janitor 
 approached, trembling, and faltered forth, ' O sir, there 
 
A Capichinh Sermon at Vie?ma. 39 
 
 are hundreds and hundreds of these thin monks before the 
 gate, demanding admittance !' 'Let them all in ! We 've 
 wine enough to last till the millennium !' So in they came, 
 crowding the refectory. The hall was crammed ; the vesti- 
 bule, the steps of the pulpit, where the reader edified the 
 brethren while they dined ; the pulpit itself, and many 
 stood on the book-board half poised in the air. Then 
 there arose a distant sound as of crackling, crackling, 
 crackling ; a deadly odour as of flesh burning, mingled 
 with sulphurous steam. The living monks were filled with 
 consternation. Their knees smote together, and their 
 tongue clave to the roof of their mouth, for they felt that 
 they were in the presence of the dead. Then uprose the 
 first ghost that had appeared, and said, ' Brethren, I was 
 once the abbot of this ancient and venerable house. I 
 ate, I drank, I caroused, I never worshipped. In my 
 heart, I neither feared God nor regarded man ; and now I 
 am tormented in the flames. These were my companions ; 
 they led a similar life of gluttony and lust, and they are, 
 in like manner, tormented. But we must glorify the Lord 
 even in the fire ! So sing, brethren, Gloria Patri, et 
 FiLio, ET Spiritui Sancto.' The spectres hissed out an 
 awful Gregorian tone, concluding with Amen. A loud 
 clap of thunder accompanied the strain, and when it was 
 finished the strange guests had disappeared, the refectory 
 contained only the Hving monks. They repented ; they 
 did works meet for repentance. They sold their cellar of 
 wine, and rebuilt their church with great magnificence. 
 They founded an hospital. They fed the poor. They 
 nursed the plague-stricken, in the year of the great pesti- 
 lence. They died in the odour of sanctity, and let us 
 hope that they will find mercy in that day." 
 
40 Passages from Mediceval Sermons. 
 
 Mr Gould, in the work already referred to, says of these 
 medieval preachers, " they did not make long extracts, 
 but with one light sweep brushed up a whole bright string 
 of sparkling Scripture instances." As an illustration of 
 this opinion, he quotes the following beautiful passage : — 
 
 " Many are called^ hut few are chosen" 
 
 " Noah preached to the old world for a hundred years 
 the coming in of the flood, and how many were saved 
 when the world was destroyed ? Eight souls, and among 
 them was the reprobate Ham. Many were called, but 
 only eight were chosen. 
 
 " When God would rain fire and brimstone on the cities 
 of the plain, were ten saved 1 No ; only four, and of 
 these four one looked back. Many were called, but 
 three were chosen. 
 
 '* Six hundred thousand men, besides women and chil- 
 dren, went through the Red Sea, the like figure whereunto 
 baptism doth even now save us. The host of Pharaoh 
 and the Egyptians went in after them, and of them not one 
 reached the farther shore. And of these Israelites, who 
 passed through the sea out of Egypt, how many entered 
 the promised land, the land flowing with milk and honeyl 
 Two only — Caleb and Joshua. Many — six hundred thou- 
 sand — were called ; few, even two, were chosen. All the 
 host of Pharaoh, a shadow of those who despise and set 
 at nought the Red Sea of Christ's blood, perish without 
 exception ; of God's chosen people, image of His Church, 
 only few indeed are saved. 
 
 " How many multitudes teemed in Jericho, and of them 
 how many escaped when Joshua encamped against the 
 city? The walls fell, men and women perished. One 
 
Passages fro?n Mediceval Sermo?is. 4 1 
 
 house alone escaped, known by the scarlet thread, type of 
 the blood of Jesus, and that was the house of a harlot. 
 
 *' Gideon went against the Midianites with thirty-two 
 thousand men. The host of Midian was without number, 
 as the sand of the sea-side for multitude. How many of 
 these thirty-two thousand men did God suffer Gideon to 
 lead into victory? Three hundred only. Many, even 
 thirty-two thousand men, were called ; three hundred 
 chosen. 
 
 " Type and figure this of the many enrolled into the 
 Church's army, of whom so few go on to ' fight the good 
 fight of faith.' 
 
 " Of the tribes of Israel twelve men only 7vere chose?! to be 
 apostles; and of those twelve, one was a traitor, one 
 doubtful, one denied His Master, all forsook Him. 
 
 " How many rulers were there among the Jews when 
 Christ came; but one only went to Him, and he by 
 night ! 
 
 " How mafiy rich men were there when our blessed Lord 
 walked this earth ? but one only ministered unto Him, and 
 he only in His burial. 
 
 " How 7na7iy peasa7its were there in the country when 
 Christ went to die % but one only was deemed worthy to bear 
 His cross, and he bore it by constraint. 
 
 " How many thieves were there in Judcea when Christ 
 was there % but one only entered Paradise, and he was con- 
 verted in his last hour. 
 
 " How many ce?ittirions were there scattered over the 
 province ? and o?te o?ily saw and believed, and he by 
 cruelly piercing the Saviour's side. 
 
 " How many harlots were there in that wicked and 
 adulterous generation 1 but ofie only washed His feet with 
 
42 S^ Bernard. 
 
 tears, and wiped them with the hair of her head. Truly 
 * Many are called, but feiu are chosenl " 
 
 ST BERNARD A.D. IO91-II53. 
 
 St Bernard stands out by far the most conspicaous 
 preacher of the middle ages. He was born of noble 
 parentage, at Fontaines, near Dijon, in Burgundy. He 
 was the St Chrysostom of his age ; but, if possible, more 
 picturesque and vehement. Like St Chrysostom and St 
 Augustine, he owed much to his mother, named Alice. 
 He was a sort of Elijah, bold, austere, uncompromising; 
 ready to persecute and slay to the uttermost those who 
 differed from him, and at the same time discoursing on 
 the Song of Solomon with almost feminine softness. He 
 denounced the frailties of churchmen and laity alike with 
 unsparing hand. The following passages may be taken 
 as specimens of his style. Mark how he satirizes : — 
 
 The Gluttony^ Vanity, and Hypocrisy of Climiac Monks. 
 " Who could say, to speak of nothing else, in how 
 many forms eggs are cooked and worked up % with what 
 care they are turned in and out, made hard or soft, or 
 chopped fine ; now fried, now roasted, now stuffed ; now 
 they are served mixed with other things, now by them- 
 selves ; even the external appearance of the dishes is such 
 that the eye, as well as the taste, is charmed; and when 
 even the stomach complains that it is full, curiosity is still 
 alive. So also what shall I say about water-drinking, when 
 even wine and water is despised ] We, all of us, it ap- 
 pears, directly we become monks, are afflicted with weak 
 stomachs, and the important advice of the apostle to use 
 wine, we, in a praiseworthy manner, endeavour to follow ; 
 
Sf Bernard^ s Ser 7710ns. 43 
 
 but for some unexiDlained reason, the condition of a little 
 is usually omitted. ..... 
 
 " You say, religion is in the heart ; true, but when you 
 are about to buy a cowl you rush over to the towns, visit 
 the markets, examine the fairs, dive into the houses of the 
 merchants, turn over all their goods, undo their bundles of 
 cloth, feel it with your fingers, hold it to your eyes, or to 
 the rays of the sun, and if anything coarse or faded ap- 
 pears, you reject it ; but if you are pleased with any object 
 of unusual beauty or brightness, you buy it, whatever the 
 price. Does this come from your heart, or your simpli- 
 city % I wonder that our abbots allow these things, unless 
 it arises from the fact, that no one is apt to blame any 
 error with confidence, if he cannot trust to his own free- 
 dom from the same 
 
 " Again, with our bellies full of beans, and our minds of 
 pride, we condemn those who are full of meat, as if it were 
 not better to eat a little fat on occasion than to be gorged, 
 even to belching, with windy vegetables. ..... 
 
 " The church's walls are resplendent, but the poor are 
 
 not there The curious find wherewith to amuse 
 
 themselves ; the wretched find no stay for them in their 
 misery. Why, at least, do we not reverence the images of 
 the saints, with which the very pavement we walk on is 
 covered % Often an angel's mouth is spit into, and the face 
 
 of some saint trodden on by the passers-by But if 
 
 we cannot do without the images, why can we not spare 
 the brilliant colours ] What has all this to do with monks, 
 with professors of poverty, with men of spiritual minds ? 
 
 *' Again, in the cloisters, what is the meaning of those 
 ridiculous monsters, of that deformed beauty, that beauti- 
 ful deformity, before the very eyes of the brethren when 
 
44 "SV Bernard's Sermons. 
 
 reading? What are disgusting monkeys there for, or 
 ferocious lions, or horrible centaurs, or spotted tigers, or 
 fighting soldiers, or huntsmen sounding the bugle % You 
 may see there one head with many bodies, or one body with 
 numerous heads. Here is a quadruped with a serpent's 
 tail ; there is a fish with a beast's head ; there a creature, 
 in front a horse, behind a goat; another has horns at one 
 end, and a horse's tail at the other. In fact, such an end- 
 less variety of forms appears everywhere, that it is more 
 pleasant to read in the stonework than in books, and to 
 spend the day in admiring those oddities than in meditat- 
 ing on the law of God. Good God ! if we are not ashamed 
 of these absurdities, why do we not grieve at the cost of 
 them r' 
 
 The following gem belongs to another style of thought 
 and emotion. To feel it fully, one should wander alone 
 in the deep embowering woods which surround the ruins 
 of Fountain's Abbey, in Yorkshire, undisturbed by vulgar 
 tourists and insatiable guides. The imagination, kindUng 
 in the hushed and haunted groves, should go back to the 
 time when the stillness and dimness that precede the 
 dawn were broken by the voices of the brethren at matins, 
 and the dim light of the tapers twinkling through the 
 storied windows of the convent chapel. We should behold 
 in vision some old hermit, once a mighty manslayer, ill- 
 famed for the dishonour of women and the lust of blood, 
 now winning barren lands, subduing them for the husband- 
 man, and himself turned to the Lord with full purpose of 
 heart. He kneels devoutly on his knees as the bell sum- 
 mons the brethren. He is now ready to be offered. He 
 is worn down with fasting and penitences, the time of his 
 departure is at hand. Some MSS., traced in artistic and 
 
Sf Bernard V Ser 
 
 mons. 45 
 
 reverent devices by the scriptores of the cloister, lie before 
 him. He opens one and peruses the burning words of 
 the great founder and master of his order, translating 
 into intelligible vocables the yearning of that hermit's 
 heart : — 
 
 God All m All. 
 
 " But who can grasp the magnitude of delight compre- 
 hended in that short word 1 God will be all in all. Not 
 to speak of the body, I perceive three things in the soul — 
 reason, will, memory ; and these three make up the soul. 
 How much each of these in this present world lacks of 
 completion and perfectness, is felt by every one who 
 walketh in the Spirit. Wherefore is this, except because 
 God is not yet all in all? Therefore it is that our reason 
 falters in judgment, that our will is feeble and distracted, 
 that our memory confounds us by its forgetfulness. We 
 are subjected unwillingly to this threefold weakness, but 
 hope abides. For He who fills with good things the 
 desires of the soul, He himself will be to the reason the 
 fulness of light ; to the will, the abundance of peace ; to 
 the memory, the unbroken smoothness of eternity. O 
 truth ! O charity ! O eternity ! O blessed and blessing 
 Trinity ! to Thee my miserable trinity miserably groans, 
 while it is in exile from Thee. Departing from Thee, in 
 what errors, griefs, and fears is it involved ! Alas, for 
 what a trinity have we exchanged Thee away ! My heart 
 is disturbed, and hence my grief; my strength has forsaken 
 me, and hence my fear ; the light of my eyes is not with 
 me, and hence my error. O trinity of my soul ! what a 
 changed trinity dost thou show me in mine exile ! 
 
 *' ' But why art thou cast down, O my soul ! and why art 
 
46 Funeral Oi'atioii by St Bernard, 
 
 thou disquieted within mel Hope thou in God, for I 
 shall yet praise Him/ — that is, when error shall have left 
 my mind, sorrow my will, fears my memory ; and serenity, 
 sweetness, and eternal peace shall have come in their 
 stead. The first of these things will be done by the God 
 of truth ; the second, by the God of charity ; the third, by 
 the God of omnipotence ; that God may be all in all : the 
 reason receiving light inextinguishable, the will peace im- 
 perturbable, the memory cleaving to a fountain which 
 shall never fail. You may judge for yourselves whether 
 you would rightly assign the first to the Son, the second to 
 the Holy Ghost, and the last to the Father; in such a 
 manner, however, that you take away nothing of any of 
 them, either from the Father, or the Son, or the Holy 
 Ghost." 
 
 Let us quote from the " Life and Times of Saint Ber- 
 nard, by J. C. Morison, M.A., Lincoln College, Oxford," 
 one more specimen of the great mediaeval orator. His 
 brother Gdrard, who had been one of his early converts, 
 died on the very day that St Bernard was to preach one of 
 his expository sermons on the Song of Solomon. His 
 heart was full to overflowing, for he tenderly loved his 
 brother. He ascended the pulpit at the appointed hour, 
 and interwove with his subject a funeral oration on 
 Gerard's death. His text was — 
 
 " As the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon ^^ 
 " We must begin from this point, because it was here 
 that the preceding sermon was brought to a close. You 
 are waiting to hear what these words m.ean, and how they 
 are connected with the previous clause, since a comparison 
 is made between them. Perhaps both members of the 
 
Fimeral Oration by Sf Bernard. 47 
 
 comparison, viz., ' As the tents of Kedar, as the curtains 
 of Solomon,' refer only to the first words, * I am black/ 
 It may be, however, that the simile is extended to both 
 clauses, and each is compared w4th each. The former 
 sense is the more simple, the latter the more obscure. 
 Let us try both, beginning with the latter, which seems the 
 more difficult. There is no difficulty, however, in the 
 first comparison, * I am black as the tents of Kedar,' but 
 only in the last. For Kedar, which is interpreted to mean 
 ' darkness' or * gloom,' may be compared with blackness 
 justly enough ; but the curtains of Solomon are not so 
 easily likened to beauty. Moreover, who does not see 
 that ' tents ' fit harmoniously with the comparison ? For 
 what is the meaning of ' tents,' except our bodies, in 
 which we sojourn for a time. Nor have we ' an abiding 
 city, but we seek one to come.' In our bodies, as under 
 tents, we carry on warfare. Truly, we are violent to take 
 the kingdom. Indeed, the life of man here on earth is a 
 warfare ; and as long as we do battle in this body, we are 
 absent from the Lord, i.e.^ from the light. For the Lord 
 is light, and so far as any one is not in Him, so far He is 
 in darkness, £<?., in Kedar. Let each one then acknow- 
 ledge the sorrowful exclamation as his own : ' Woe is me 
 that my sojourn is prolonged ! I have dwelt with those 
 who dwell in Kedar. My soul hath long sojourned in a 
 strange land.' Therefore this habitation of the body is 
 not the mansion of the citizen, nor the house of the native, 
 but either the soldier's tent or the traveller's inn. This 
 body, I say, is a tent, and a tent of Kedar, because, by its 
 interference, it prevents the soul from beholding the in- 
 finite light. 00000 
 To-day, what an exceeding multitude of joys and bless- 
 
48 Funeral Oration by St Bernard, 
 
 ings is thine ! Instead of me thou hast Christ ; nor canst 
 thou feel thy absence from thy brethren here, now that 
 thou rejoicest in choruses of angels. Nothing, therefore, 
 can make thee deplore the loss of our society, seeing that 
 the Lord of majesty and the hosts of heaven vouchsafe to 
 thee their presence. But what have I in thy stead % What 
 would I not give to know what thou now thinkest of thy 
 Bernard, tottering amid cares and afflictions, and bereaved 
 of thee, the staff of my weakness % if, indeed, it be per- 
 mitted to one, who is plunged into the abyss of light, and 
 absorbed in the great ocean of eternal felicity, still to think 
 of the miserable inhabitants of the earth. It may be that 
 though thou knewest us in the flesh, thou knowest us no 
 more, and since thou hast entered into the powers of the 
 Lord, thou rememberest only His justice, forgetful of us. 
 Moreover, he that is joined unto the Lord is one spirit, 
 and is entirely changed into one holy feeling ; neither can 
 he think of or wish for aught but God and the things 
 which God thinks and wishes, being full of God. But 
 God is Love, and the more closely a man is united to God, 
 the fuller he is of love. Further, God is without passions, 
 but not without sympathy, for His nature is always to have 
 mercy and to spare. Therefore thou must needs be mer- 
 ciful, since thou art joined to the Merciful One, although 
 misery now be far from thee ; thou canst compassionate 
 others, although thou sufferest not thyself. Thy love is 
 not weakened, but changed. Nor because thou hast put 
 on God hast thou laid aside all care for us, for ' He also 
 careth for us.' Thou hast discarded thine infirmities, but 
 not thy affections. ' Charity never faileth :' thou wilt not 
 forget me at the last. 
 
 " I fancy I hear my brother saying to me, * Can a 
 
St AjithoJiy of Padua. 49 
 
 woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have 
 compassion on the son of her womb % Yea, they may- 
 forget, yet will I not forget thee.' Truly it were lamentable 
 if he did. Thou knowest, Gerard, where I am, where I 
 lie, where thou leftest me. No one is by to stretch forth 
 a hand to me. I look, as I have been wont to do in every 
 emergency, to Gerard, and he is not there. Then do I 
 groan as one that hath no help. Whom shall I consult in 
 doubtful matters? To whom shall I trust in trial and 
 misfortune % Who will bear my burdens % Who will pro- 
 tect me from harm % Did not Gerard's eyes prevent my 
 steps % Alas, my cares and anxieties entered more deeply 
 into Gerard's breast than into my own, ravaged it more 
 freely, wrung it more acutely. His wise and gentle speech 
 saved me from secular conversation, and gave me to the 
 silence which I loved. The Lord hath given him a 
 learned tongue, so that he knew when it was proper to 
 speak. By the prudence of his answers, and the grace 
 given him from above, he so satisfied both our own people 
 and strangers, that scarcely any one needed me who had 
 previously seen Gerard. He hastened to meet the visitors, 
 placing himself in the way lest they should disturb my 
 leisure. Such as he could not dispose of himself, those 
 he brought in to me ; the rest he sent away. O diligent 
 man ! O faithful friend ! " 
 
 ST ANTHONY OF PADUA 
 
 Must be distinguished from the simple and eccentric 
 friend of St Athanasius. The former was born at Lisbon, 
 in 1 1 95. At first he was one of the regular canons. The 
 translation of the five Franciscan martyrs to Coimbra 
 filled him with a yearning desire to follow their bright 
 
 D 
 
50 The F/udence of ArchbishoJ> Crafi?ner. 
 
 example. He was eventually employed in revivalist mis- 
 sions throughout the north and centre of Italy. He died 
 at Padua, worn out with labour, June 13, 123 1. A mag- 
 nificent church was dedicated to his honour near the spot 
 where he expired. It is enriched by painting and sculp- 
 ture, and the chapel of the saint is one of the most splen- 
 did in Christendom. When St Anthony was announced 
 as about to preach, the church was thronged from day- 
 break. Sometimes he had to leave the building, and 
 address the assembled multitudes in the open air. Nor 
 were the practical effects of his ministry less striking. Old 
 enemies were seen shaking hands, and women selling their 
 ornaments to distribute to the poor. Though born and 
 educated in Portugal, his Italian was pure and idiomatic. 
 Pope Gregory IX., after hearing one of his discourses, 
 exclaimed, " It is the ark of the covenant, the shrine of 
 Holy Scripture !" The sketches of his sermons which have 
 come down to us are not equal to the reputation of St 
 Anthony. Like other great preachers, he probably owed 
 much to his manner. 
 
 We are not, however, to suppose that all mediaeval ser- 
 mons breathe tlie eloquence of St Bernard and St Anthony. 
 The writings of the period of the Reformation contain 
 allusions to, and specimens of, homilies of a very differ- 
 ent description. Making every allowance for the spirit 
 of exaggeration and sarcasm in which the Reformers 
 would describe the sermons of the monks and friars, we 
 find that many of the latter delivered the most absurd 
 rhapsodies, and were justly denounced. The penetrating 
 and politic mind of Archbishop Cranmer was fully alive to 
 this abuse of the pulpit, and with prudent skill, he 
 attempted to remove it. He sought and laboured to make 
 
Extracts fro7tt Medicevai Sdrmons. 51 
 
 sermons the vehicle of sound Christian instruction. The 
 sermons of the time of Henry the Eighth contain sad 
 proofs of the mental poverty of the preachers. One friar, 
 inveighing against irreverence towards the ministers of 
 religion, relates the following story : — " Saint Augustine," 
 said he, " saw two women prating together in the chapel 
 of the pope, and the fiend sitting on their necks writing 
 a long roll of what the women said. The devil accident- 
 ally let fall the roll, and the saint took it up. Asking the 
 women what they had talked about, they replied, ' We 
 have been only saying a few Paternosters.' St Augustine 
 read the contents of the scroll. There was not one good 
 or pious word in it from beginning to end ! " In another 
 sermon we are told the terrible consequences which follow 
 certain sins of omission, as well as those of commission ; — ■ 
 
 What hrfell Four Men who stole an Abbot's Ox. 
 
 " Four men stole the ox of an abbot. The abbot gave 
 sentence, and cursed them by bell, book, and candle. 
 Three of the culprits repented of their crime, found 
 mercy, and were shriven. The fourth died in his sin, 
 unannealed and unabsolved. He could not rest in his 
 grave. His spirit walked the earth by night, and all were 
 tilled with wild and unspeakable terror who ventured out 
 of their houses after sunset. It happened that once as a 
 pious priest went with the body of the Lord to the bed- 
 side of a dying man, the ghost met him, and told him who 
 he was, and why so miserably he walked the earth. The 
 ghost besought the priest to tell his widow to make the 
 abbot ample amends, and to procure absolution for the 
 otfender ; for otherwise, said the poor spirit, my soul will 
 find no rest for ever and ever. The widow propitiated the 
 
5 2 Dr Shaw. 
 
 abbot. The abbot removed the curse, and the ghost no 
 more troubled the glimpses of the upper air ! " 
 
 The good results of hearing Mass. 
 
 A country parish priest, once discoursing on this sub- 
 ject, assured his congregation that " on the day they hear 
 the mass, and assist at the holy sacrifice, all idle oaths 
 and forgotten sins shall be forgiven. On that day they 
 shall not lose their sight, nor die a sudden death, nor wax 
 aged ; and every step thitherward and homeward, an 
 angel shall reckon ! " 
 
 DOCTOR SHAW. 
 
 Stow relates, that while Richard III. was protector, it 
 v/as desired by that crafty prince and his council, that the 
 famous, or rather infamous Dr Shaw, should in a sermon, 
 at Paul's Cross, from a text on the danger of illegitimate 
 succession, signify to the people that neither King Edward 
 nor the Duke of Clarence, nor the children of the Duke 
 of York, were legally begotten, and that the Protector 
 should come in at this period of the discourse, as if by 
 accident, when the doctor was to proceed in these words: 
 " But see the Lord Protector, that very noble prince, the 
 special pattern of knightly prowess, as well in all princely 
 behaviour, as in the lineaments and favour in his visage, 
 representing the very face of the noble duke his father : 
 this is the father's own figure \ this, his own countenance, 
 the very print of his visage, the very sure undoubted image, 
 the plain express likeness of the noble duke." It fell 
 out, however, through over-much haste, the doctor had 
 spoken all this before the Protector came in ; yet behold- 
 ing him enter, he suddenly stopped in what he was saying, 
 
Bishop Otto and the Co?isecration Sermon. 53 
 
 and began to repeat his lesson again, " but see the Lord 
 Protector, that very noble prince," and so on. " But the 
 people," says Speed, " were so far from crying King 
 Richard, that they stood as if they had been turned into 
 stones, for this very shameful sermon." 
 
 Bishop Otto and the Consea'ation Sermon. 
 An interesting and characteristic anecdote is related of 
 Bishop Otto, the apostle of Pomerania. He went to 
 preach at Giitzkow, a sort of Pomeranian Goodmunding- 
 ham. He found there a grand and stately heathen temple 
 and precinct ; he caused it to be razed to its foundations, 
 and a stately Christian church to be reared in its stead. 
 The new building was now completed, and ready for con- 
 secration. The day for the holy festival was fixed, and 
 the bishop was to preach the first sermon. Count Mitz- 
 lafif, the feudal lord of the town and neighbouring district, 
 appeared to assist at the ceremony. The bishop spoke to 
 him in affectionate and earnest tones : " O great count, 
 this consecration is nothing, nor can I preach with full 
 comfort and energy unless thou and thy whole people 
 consecrate yourselves to the Lord." The count reverently 
 replied, " What can I do more % I have been baptized at 
 Usedom. What dost thou require of me further?" The 
 good bishop replied, " Thou hast many prisoners taken in 
 war whom thou detainest for their ransom, and there are 
 Christians among them. O count, release them ! let this 
 day be one of real rejoicing. Let there be glory to God 
 and our Saviour, the true Liberator of mankind ! " Urged 
 by the solemn words of the pious prelate, the Count Mitz- 
 laff ordered all the Christian prisoners to be brought forth 
 and set at liberty. Encouraged by this generous conces- 
 
54 Bishop Otto and the Consecration Sermon. 
 
 sion, the bishop continued and said, " The poor and be- 
 nighted heathen, too, are our brethren ! Of one blood God 
 hath created all men. Let them also be set at liberty. 
 Release them at my entreaty. I will baptize such as are 
 worthy, and thus they wull be led to the fold of the Saviour." 
 The count ordered all the heathen to be liberated from 
 servitude. The bishop baptized them. The wail of the 
 penitent mingled with the tears of Christian rejoicing over 
 the conversion of souls, and the heart of the pious multi- 
 tude leapt for joy. 
 
 It was now thought that all the prisoners were released. 
 The consecration of the church was about to be completed. 
 The apparitors and other servants were about to bring 
 salt, wine, and ashes, as ancient and symboHcal necessaries 
 to a solemn dedication. Salt there was in plenty. Wine 
 was the besetting snare and temptation of every mediaeval 
 feast of dedication : of this there was no lack. Nobody 
 ever dreamed that ashes could be wanting. Where was 
 the hearth that would not supply ashes % But unexpectedly, 
 and as though by miracle, ashes were not forthcoming. 
 One house after another was searched, but there were not 
 any ashes. While the attendants were thus occupied, they 
 heard the voice of a man underground lamenting in bitter 
 terms. They made inquiry of the bystanders, and learned 
 that beneath the house was a dungeon, in which lay in 
 chains a Dane of illustrious parentage, detained as a host- 
 age for five hundred marks of silver which his father owed 
 to the count for some injury done in those wild and ruth- 
 less times. The good bishop was duly informed of the 
 prisoner's sad condition, but he durst not intercede with 
 the count on account of the magnitude of the injury. 
 How could he trouble any further the noble count % But 
 
Dr Oliver Maillard. 55 
 
 MitzlafF heard the whispering, and inquired. Then the 
 servants said softly, '' Sir, the Dane ! " On this the count 
 started. The generous effort cost him much ; yet he ex- 
 claimed, " He is my worst enemy, and ought to make me 
 ample atonement ; but to-day I will regard no loss. Be it 
 so : release the Dane also, and may God be gracious unto 
 me." Then they fetched the prisoner, and placed him with- 
 out chains by the altar. Then Otto delivered a short but 
 admirable discourse, and pronounced the benediction. 
 
 OLIVER MAILLARD. 
 
 One of the oddest, yet most learned divines that ever 
 adorned the Galilean pulpit was Dr Oliver Maillard, who 
 died in the year 1502. He was famous for the directness 
 and personality of his preaching. He denounced vice 
 with extraordinary picturesqueness and force. His por- 
 traits of character were as distinct and recognisable as 
 paintings in a gallery. Every department of church and 
 state was at that time invaded by men of profligate lives. 
 The monastic system had produced hypocrites rather than 
 saints. The highest offices in the church were bought and 
 sold. The king, Louis XL, set an example of coarse and 
 vulgar debauchery in private life, while he managed the 
 people and cajoled neighbouring princes by methods of 
 finesse and double-dealing which have rarely found a 
 parallel in history. His superstition was, like his wicked- 
 ness, monstrous and uncouth. He used to carry a leaden 
 image of our Lady of Clery in his bonnet, and when 
 alarmed or disappointed, he would embrace it with kisses, 
 or trample it in the dust under his feet. Such were the 
 times in which Maillard lived ; yet he was never known to 
 sully his pen with flattery, or his tongue with compromise. 
 
56 Dr Oliver Maillard. 
 
 Bravely upholding virtue, and making vice ashamed, he 
 was called by his admiring contemporaries the scourge of 
 sinners. 
 
 This zealous divine, preaching one day before the par- 
 liament at Toulouse, drew such an exact and finished 
 portrait of an unjust and corrupt judge, and the applica- 
 tion to many members of that body was so pointed, that 
 they counselled together for some time whether it would 
 not be proper to arrest him. The result of their delibera- 
 tions was transmitted to the archbishop, who, in order to 
 soothe the resentment of those who felt themselves hurt, 
 interdicted Maillard from preaching during the next two 
 years* The good old ecclesiastic received the cowardly 
 mandate of his diocesan with becoming humility. He 
 then waited on the offended magistrates, and stated his 
 duty as a preacher of the Divine Word in such impressive 
 language, that they threw themselves alternately on his 
 bosom, confessed their crimes, and became true penitents ; 
 no longer distorting facts to gratify the powerful, or taking 
 bribes to condemn the innocent. 
 
 Maillard, when he happened to preach before his ma- 
 jesty, even took liberties with the capricious and despotic 
 monarch himself When one of the courtiers informed 
 him that the king had threatened to throw him into the 
 river, " The king," replied he, " is my master ; but you 
 may tell him that I shall get sooner to heaven by water 
 than he will by \{\?, post-horses'' The king, Louis XI., had 
 been the first to estabhsh post-horses and posting on the 
 roads of France, the frontier of which he had greatly ex- 
 tended, rather by ingenious and intriguing diplomacy than 
 by force of arms. When this pleasantry was reported to 
 him, he wisely allowed Maillard to preach as he liked. 
 
Dr Oliver Maillard. 57 
 
 without danger from the royal prerogative. The saying 
 became a current jest among the wits of the period, and is 
 quoted in the " Navis Stultifera" of Badius. In the Latin 
 edition of Maillard's Sermons, published at Paris, the 
 words Hem, Hem, are written in the margin, to mark the 
 places where, according to the custom of those days, the 
 preacher was at liberty to stop and cough. In some old 
 MSS. sermons, the preacher is recommended to shake the 
 crucifix, to hammer on the pulpit like Satan himself. 
 These were devices to enable him to collect his thoughts, 
 if by chance they had wandered from the subject in hand. 
 
 Mr Isaac Disraeli, in his well-known work, " Curiosities 
 of Literature," gives the following charact-eristic extracts 
 from Maillard, and from Menot, who was almost his con- 
 temporary. 
 
 '' In attacking rapine and robbery," says Mr Disraeli, " Mail- 
 lard, under the first head, describes a kind of usury which 
 was practised in the days of Ben Jonson, and, I am told, 
 in the present as well as in the times of Maillard. ' This,' 
 says he, ' is called a palliated usury. It is thus : When a 
 person is in want of money, he goes to a treasurer, (a kind 
 of banker or merchant,) on whom he has an order for a 
 thousand crowns. The treasurer tells him that he will pay 
 him in a fortnight's time, when he is to receive the money. 
 The poor man cannot wait. Our good treasurer tells him, 
 " I will give you half in money and half in goods." So he 
 passes his goods that are worth 100 crowns for 200.' He 
 then touches on the bribes which these treasurers and 
 clerks in office took, excusing themselves by alleging the 
 little pay they otherwise received. 'All these practices 
 be sent to the devils ! ' cries Maillard, in thus addressing 
 himself to the ladies ; ' it is for you all this damnation 
 
58 Dr Oliver Mai Hard. 
 
 ensues. Yes, yes ! you must have rich satms and girdles 
 of gold out of this accursed money. When any one has 
 anything to receive from the husband, he must make a 
 present to the wife of some iine gown, or girdle, or ring. 
 If you ladies and gentlemen who are battening on your 
 pleasures, and wear scarlet clothes, I believe if you were 
 closely put in a good press, we should see the blood of the 
 poor gush out, with which your scarlet is dyed.' 
 
 " Maillard notices the following curious particulars of the 
 mode of cheating in tirade in his times. 
 
 " He is violent against the apothecaries for their cheats. 
 * They mix ginger with cinnamon, which they sell for real 
 spices ; they put their bags of ginger, pepper, saffron, 
 cinnamon, and other drugs in damp cellars, that they may 
 weigh heavier ; they mix oil with saffron to give it a 
 colour, and to make it weightier.' He does not forget 
 those tradesmen who put water in their wool, and moisten 
 their cloth that it may stretch ; tavern-keepers who sophis- 
 ticate and mingle wines ; the butchers who blow up their 
 meat, and who mix hog's lard with the fat of their meat. 
 He terribly declaims against those who buy with a great 
 allowance of measure and weight, and then sell with a 
 small measure and weight; and curses those who, when 
 they weigh, press the scales down with their finger. But 
 it is time to conclude with Master Oliver ! His catalogue 
 is, however, by no means exhausted ; and it may not be 
 amiss to observe, that the present age has retained every 
 one of the sins. 
 
 " The following extracts are from Menot's sermons, 
 which are written, like Maillard's, in a barbarous Latin, 
 mixed with old French. 
 
 *' Michael Menot died in 151 8. I think he has more wit 
 
Michael Me7iot, 59 
 
 than Maillard, and occasionally displays a brilliant imagina- 
 tion, with the same singular mixture of grave declamation 
 and farcical absurdities. He is called in the tide-page the 
 golden-to7igued. It runs thus : Predicatoris qui lingua aurea, 
 sua tempestate 7iimciissatiis est, Sermones qiiadfagesitnales, ab 
 ipso olim Turoiiis declafnaii. Paris, 1525, 8vo. 
 
 " When he compares the Church with a vine, he says : 
 * There were once some Britons and Englishmen who 
 would have carried away all France into their country-, 
 because they found our wine better than their beer ; but 
 as they well knew that they could not always remain in 
 France, . nor carry away France into their country, they 
 would at least carry with them several stocks of vines. 
 They planted some in England, but these stocks soon 
 degenerated, because the soil was not adapted to them.* 
 Notwithstanding what Menot said in 1500, and that we 
 have tried so ofcen, we have often flattered ourselves that 
 if we plant vineyards, we may have English wine. 
 
 " The following beautiful figure describes those who live 
 neglectful of their aged parents who had cherished them 
 into prosperity. ' See the trees flourish and recover their 
 leaves ; it is their root that has produced all, but when the 
 branches are loaded with flowers and with fruits, they yield 
 nothing to the root. This is an image of those children 
 who prefer their own amusements, and to game away their 
 fortunes, than to give to their old parents that which they 
 want.' 
 
 " He acquaints us with the following circumstances of 
 the immorality of that age. - * Who has not got a mistress 
 besides his wife % The poor wife eats the fruits of bitter- 
 ness, and even makes the bed for the mistress.' Oaths 
 were not unfashionable in his day. ' Since the world has 
 
6o Michael Menofs Style. 
 
 been the world, this crime was never greater. There were 
 once pillories for these swearers ; but now this crime is so 
 common, that the child of five years can swear, and even 
 the old dotard of eighty, who has only two teeth remain- 
 ing, can fling out an oath/ 
 
 " On the power of the fair sex of his day, he observes : 
 * A father says, " My son studies ; he must have a bishopric 
 or an abbey of 500 livres. Then he will have dogs, horses, 
 and mistresses, Hke others." Another says, "I will have 
 my son placed at court, and have many honourable digni- 
 ties." To succeed well, both employ the mediation of 
 women ; unhappily the Church and the law are entirely at 
 their disposal. We have artful Delilahs who shear us close. 
 For twelve crowns and an ell of velvet given to a woman, 
 you gain the worst lawsuit and the best living.' 
 
 " In his last sermon, Menot recapitulates the various 
 topics he had touched on during Lent. This extract pre- 
 sents a curious picture, and a just notion of the versatile 
 talents of these preachers. 
 
 " ' I have told ecclesiastics how they should conduct them- 
 selves; not that they are ignorant of their duties, but I 
 must ever repeat to girls not to suffer themselves to be 
 duped by them. I have told these ecclesiastics that they 
 should imitate the lark ; if she has a grain she does not 
 remain idle, but feels her pleasure in singing, and in sing- 
 ing always is ascending towards heaven. So they should 
 not amass, but elevate the hearts of all to God, and not 
 do as the frogs, who are crying out day and night, and 
 think they have a fine throat, but always remain fixed in 
 the mud. 
 
 " ' I have told the men of the law that they should have 
 the qualities of the eagle. The first is, that this bii'd, when 
 
Michael Me no fs Style. 6r 
 
 it flies, fixes its eye on the sun ; so all judges, counsellors, 
 and attorneys, in judging, writing, and signing, should 
 always have God before their eyes. And secondly, this 
 bird is never greedy ; it willingly shares its prey with 
 others : so all lawyers, who are rich in crowns after having 
 had their bills paid, should distribute some to the poor, 
 particularly when they are conscious that their money 
 arises from their prey. 
 
 " ' I have spoken of the marriage state, but all that I have 
 said has been disregarded. See those wretches who break 
 the hymeneal chains, and abandon their wives ! they pass 
 their holidays out of their parishes, because if they re- 
 mained at home they must have joined their wives at 
 church ; they liked their prostitutes better ; and it will 
 be so every day in the year ! I would as well dine with a 
 Jew or a heretic, as with them. What an infected place is 
 this ! Mistress Lubricity has taken possession of the whole 
 city ; look in every corner, and you '11 be convinced. 
 
 " ' For you, married women I if you have heard the night- 
 ingale's song, you must know that she sings during three 
 months, and that she is silent when she has young ones. 
 So there is a time in which you may sing and take your 
 pleasures in the marriage state, and another to watch your 
 children. Don't damn yourselves for them ; and remem- 
 ber it would be better to see them drowned than damned. 
 
 " ' As to widoivs, I observe, that the turtle withdraws and 
 sighs in the woods whenever she has lost her companion ; 
 so must they retire into the wood of the cross, and having 
 lost their temporal husband, take no other but Jesus Christ. 
 
 " ' And, to close all, I have told girls that they must fly 
 from the company of men, and not permit them to em- 
 brace, or even touch them. Look on the rose ; it has a 
 
62 Character of Father A )idrL 
 
 delightful odour ; it embalms the place in which it is 
 placed j but if you grasp it underneath, it will prick you 
 till the blood issues. The beauty of the rose is the beauty 
 of the girl. The beauty and perfume of the first invites to 
 smell and to handle it, but when it is touched underneath 
 it pricks shaq^ly ; the beauty of a girl likewise invites the 
 hand ; but you, my young ladies, you must never suffer 
 this, for I tell you that every man who does this designs to 
 make you harlots.' 
 
 " These ample extracts may convey the same pleasure to 
 the reader which I have received by collecting them from 
 their scarce originals, little known even to the curious. 
 Menot, it cannot be denied, displays a poetic imagination, 
 and a fertility of conception which distinguishes him among 
 his rivals. The same taste and popular manner came into 
 our country, and were suited to the simplicity of the age. 
 In 1527, our Bishop Latimer preached a sermon, in which 
 he expresses himself thus : ' Now, ye have heard what is 
 meant by this first card, and how ye ought to play. I 
 purpose again to deal unto you another card of the same 
 suit : for they be so nigh affinity, that one cannot be well 
 played without the other.' It is curious to observe about 
 a century afterwards, as Fuller informs us, that when a 
 country clergyman imitated these familiar allusions, the 
 taste of the congregation had so changed, that he was in- 
 terrupted by peals of laughter ! 
 
 " Even in more modern times have Alcnot and Mail- 
 lard found an imitator in little Father Andre, as well 
 as others. His character has been variously drawn. 
 He is by some represented as a kind of buffoon in the 
 pulpit ; but others more judiciously observe, that he only 
 indulged his natural genius, and uttered humorous and 
 
His Use of Proverbs, d^ 
 
 lively things, as the good father observes himself, to keep 
 the attention of his audience awake. He was not always 
 laughing. ' He told many a bold truth,' says the author 
 of Guerre des Atiteurs anciens et moder?ies^ ' that sent 
 bishops to their dioceses, and made many a coquette blush. 
 He possessed the art of biting when he smiled ; and more 
 ably combated vice by his ingenious satire than by those 
 vague apostrophes which no one takes to himself. While 
 others were straining their minds to catch at sublime 
 thoughts which no one understood, he lowered his talents 
 to the most humble situations, and to the minutest things. 
 From them he drew his examples and his comparisons ; 
 and the one and the other never failed of success.' Mar- 
 ville says, that * his expressions were full of shrewd sim- 
 plicity. He made very free use of the most popular pro- 
 verbs. His comparisons and figures v^'ere always borrowed 
 from the most familiar and lowest things,' To ridicule 
 effectually the reigning vices, he would prefer quirks or 
 puns to sublime thoughts ; and he was little solicitous of 
 his choice of expression, so the things came home. Gozzi, 
 in Italy, had the same poAver in drawing unexpected in- 
 ferences from vulgar and familiar occurrences. It was 
 by this art Whitefield obtained so many followers. In 
 Piozzi's ' British Synonymes,' vol. ii. p. 205, we have an 
 instance of Gozzi's manner. In the time of Charles II. 
 it became fashionable to introduce humour into sermons. 
 Sterne seems to have revived it in his. South's sparkle 
 perpetually with wit and pun. Far different, however, are 
 the characters of the sublime preachers of whom the 
 French have preserved the following descriptions : — 
 
 "We have not any more Bourdaloue, La Rue, and Mas- 
 sillon ; but the idea which still exists of the manner of ad- 
 
64 Urban Ckevreau. 
 
 dressing their auditors may serve instead of lessons. Each 
 had his own pecuhar mode, always adapted to place, time, 
 circumstance, to their auditors, their style, and their sub- 
 ject. 
 
 " Bourdaloue, with a collected air, had little action ; 
 with eyes generally halfclosed, he penetrated the hearts 
 of the people by the sound of a voice uniform and 
 solemn. The tone with which a sacred orator pronounced 
 the words, Tu est ille vir ! ' Thou art the man ! ' in sud- 
 denly addressing them to one of the kings of France, 
 struck more forcibly than their application. Madame de 
 Sevigne describes our preacher by saying, ' Father Bour- 
 daloue thunders at Notre-Dame.' 
 
 " La Rue appeared with the air of a prophet. His man- 
 ner was irresistible, full of fire, intelligence, and force. He 
 had strokes perfectly original. Several old men, his con- 
 temporaries, still shuddered at the recollection of the ex- 
 pression which he employed in an apostrophe to the God 
 of vengeance, Evaginare gladium tuum ! 
 
 " The person of Massillon affected his admirers. He 
 was seen in the pulpit with that air of simplicity, that 
 modest demeanour, those eyes humbly declining, those 
 unstudied gestures, that passionate tone, that mild counte- 
 nance of a man penetrated with his subject, conveying to 
 the mind the most luminous ideas, and to the heart the 
 most tender emotions. Baron, the tragedian, coming out 
 from one of his sermons, truth forced from his lips a con- 
 fession humiliating to his profession : ' My friend,' said 
 he to one of his companions, ' this is an orator ! and we 
 are only actors ! ' " 
 
 Urban Chevreau was a French critic and historian of the 
 seventeenth century. He published a work called " Chev- 
 
CoUon of Nismes, Barlette of Naples, 65 
 
 rccana," Paris, 1697, which contains the following pas- 
 sage : — 
 
 " ' As there are characters of pretended valour, so there 
 are wits of false splendour and little judgment. When I 
 was young, I remember attending a sermon preached by a 
 prelate, who was celebrated at court from the greatness of 
 his talent. It was on the feast of Mary Magdalene. The 
 bishop having enlarged much on the repentance of Mary, 
 observed that her tears had opened to her the way to 
 heaven ; and that she had travelled by water to a place 
 where few other persons have gone by land. It is left to 
 the reader to determine whether the expression of M. 
 CoHon, Bishop of Nismes, is conformable to the just rules 
 of criticism ; or whether the expression is forced and dis- 
 torted, and equally void of elegance and judgment." 
 
 A Roman poet once said, " There lived many brave 
 men before Agamemnon." So there arose many remark- 
 able preachers from time to time during the middle ages. 
 Gabriel Barlette was a Neapolitan Dominican in the 
 fifteenth century. The following curious observation is 
 attributed to him, as having been made in a sermon on 
 the temptation of our blessed Lord : — "After His victory 
 over Satan, the blessed Virgin sent Him the dinner she 
 had made ready for herself — soup and cabbage, spinach, 
 and perhaps even sardines." Som.e preachers rendered 
 themselves conspicuous by attacking certain special classes 
 of crimes. They were unequal to the discussion of other 
 subjects. John Geminiano excelled in funeral sermons. 
 Adrian Mangosius, the Dutchman, used to make up a dis- 
 course by quotations from everybody he could think of — ■ 
 the Gospels, the Old Testament, St Thomas Aquinas, St 
 Jerome, Virgil, Plutarch, Sallust, and Cicero. Joseph de 
 
 E 
 
66 Jean Rmilins Style. 
 
 Barzia was the Bishop of Cadiz, and flourished at the end 
 of the sixteenth and beginning of the seventeenth century; 
 but he belongs to the mediaeval type. His style was gene- 
 rally denunciatory. Jacques Marchant, on the contrary, 
 who was a contemporary of De Barzia, was poetical and 
 loving. John Osorius was a Spanish Jesuit, who preached 
 three sermons when the great Armada against England 
 was upon the pomt of sailing; and three more upon the 
 overthrow of his Spanish friends, and the return of the 
 shattered remains of the expedition. Jean Raulin, born 
 at Toul, in 1443, delighted in tracing types and developing 
 metaphors. 
 
 Mr Baring- Gould gives the two following stories, in his 
 own delightful way, as illustrative of Jean Raulin's style : — 
 
 " The beasts were once determined to keep Lent strictly, 
 and to begin by making their confessions. The Lion was 
 appointed confessor. First to be shriven came the Wolf, 
 who with expressions of remorse, acknowledged himself a 
 grievous sinner, and confessed that he had — yes, he had — 
 once eaten a lamb. 
 
 " 'Any extenuating circumstances'?' asked the Lion. 
 
 "*Well, yes, there were,' quoth the Wolf; 'for the 
 mother who bore me, and my ancestors from time imme- 
 morial, have been notable lamb-eaters, and " what 's born 
 in the bone comes out in the flesh." ' 
 
 "'Quite so,' said the confessor; 'your penance is this, 
 say one Pater-Noster.' 
 
 " The next to approach the tribunal of penance was the 
 Fox, with drooping tail, a lachrymose eye, and humble gait. 
 
 " * I have sinned, father !' began Reynard, beating his 
 breast ; ' I have sinned grievously through my own fault ; 
 I— I — I — yes, I once did eat a hen.' 
 
Extract fj'oin RaiiUn. 67 
 
 " * Any extenuating circumstances % ' asked the Lion. 
 
 " * Two,' replied the penitent ; ' I must say, the fault 
 was not quite my own. The hen was grossly fat, and it 
 roosted within reach. Now, had she been an ascetic, and 
 had she gone to sleep in some tree, I should never have 
 touched her, I assure you, father.' 
 
 " ' There is some truth in that,' said the confessor ; ' say 
 as penance one Pater Noster.' 
 
 ''Next came the Donkey, hobbling up to the confessional, 
 and her broken ee-yaws ! could be heard from quite a 
 distance. For some time the poor brute was so convulsed 
 with sobs that not a word she said could be distinguished. 
 At last she gulped forth that she had sinned in three 
 things. 
 
 " ' And what are they 1 ' asked the Lion, gruffly. 
 
 " ' O father ! first of all, as I went along the roads, I 
 found grass and thistles in the hedges ; they were so 
 tempting that — that — that — ee-yaw, ee-yaw ! ' 
 
 " ' Go on,' growled the Lion ; ' you ate them ; you com- 
 mitted robbery. Vile monster ! I shudder at the enormity 
 of your crime.' 
 
 " ' Secondly,' continued the Donkey, ' as I came near a 
 monastery one summer's day, the gates were wide open to 
 air the cloisters; impelled by curiosity, I — I — I — ^just 
 ventured to walk in, and I think I may have somewhat 
 befouled the pavement.' 
 
 " ' What ! ' exclaimed the confessor, rising in his seat, 
 and shaking his mane ; ' enter the sanctuary dedicated 
 to religion — you, a female, knowing that it is against the 
 rules of the order that aught but males should intrude ; and 
 then, too, that little circumstance about the pavement ! 
 Go on,' said the Lion grimly. 
 
68 Brother Roger, the Ecstatic. 
 
 '* ' O father,' sighed the poor penitent ; ' the holy 
 monks were all in chapel and singing the office. They 
 sang so beautifully that my heart was lifted up within me, 
 and at the close of a collect my feelings overcame me, 
 and I tried to say amen ; but produced only an ee-yaw ! 
 which interrupted the service, and hindered the devotion 
 of the monks.' 
 
 " ' Horrible !' cried the Lion, his eyes flashing with pious 
 zeal, his hair bristling with virtuous indignation. 'Monster 
 steeped in crime, is there any penance too great to inflict 
 on you % I — ' The reader may guess what became of 
 the helpless beast." 
 
 Some of these orators indulged in wild and fanatical 
 rhapsodies. One Brother Roger, whom Cardinal Bona calls 
 an ecstatic man, preached once somewhat in this strain, 
 " What dost thou think will be if in thy inward life God is 
 inwardly present ? From what a state of darkness to what 
 clarities wilt thou be led by His Spirit ! If thou couldst 
 know those inward contemplations which are in the inward 
 secrets of the soul, if those lucid illuminations, if those 
 fervid burning splendours, if those simple uncompounded 
 rays, if those pure lightnings, if those vivid enlivening 
 odours, if those peaceful savours, if those deUcious, nay, 
 most delicious sweetnesses, if those unknown and un- 
 nameable tilings, yet things experimentally felt, thou 
 couldst perfectly possess ! Ah ! man, if thou couldst know 
 these things by experiment, think how thou couldst endure 
 the darkness of thy life as I do. But when will it be % 
 Dost thou think that I shall not see % when, when, when % 
 All things are in delay. These are the words of silence. 
 Ah ! hah ! hah ! " Such is the untranslateable nonsense 
 of this abstruse enthusiast. Nicholas de Lyra used to 
 
The Franciscafi s Recantation. 69 
 
 affirm that our blessed Saviour was a Minorite friar of the 
 order of St Francis, for which Luther most justly rebuked 
 Him. 
 
 T/ie Franciscan Egan 's Recantation Sermon 
 
 Contains the following strange confession : — 
 
 " When I was made a friar, a great number of people 
 were present at the solemnity. I appeared in a spruce garb, 
 had there my horse, my sword and pistols, and appeared 
 with much gaiety and splendour. The head of the con- 
 vent advised the people to take notice of my pompous 
 condition, and that I was willing to lay aside all those 
 outward glories for St Francis, his sake ; and accordingly 
 I disrobed myself, and put on the mean garments which 
 belonged to the order, and then made three vows of 
 obedience^ poverty., and chastity. After that, took one and 
 twenty oaths. Now, in the oaths I swore never to come 
 on horseback ; never to wear shoes; to obey my superior 
 in whatever he commanded me, without examining the 
 lawfulness of his commands ; not to be ashamed to beg ; 
 never to be out of my friar's habit. But that which was a 
 cause of disgust at that time unto me was this : The supe- 
 rior tells me that I must take my former garments, that is, 
 return in the same posture I came, and go see my friends ; 
 and though all these things were against my oaths, yet he 
 would ABSOLVE me from them. And this is the state ot 
 all the Irish friars." — Recantation Sermon of Anthony Egan, 
 entitled the Franciscan Convert, preached at London^ 1673. 
 
 Early Mediceval Preachers. 
 There is reason to beheve that the revival of the use of 
 funeral sermons, which had been discontinued during 
 
yo Fimeral Orations. 
 
 many ages, on account of the scarcity of orators, contri- 
 buted not a little to the improvement of preaching. Be- 
 tween the funeral oration delivered over the remains of St 
 Honoratus, Bishop of Aries, by St Hilary, his successor, 
 in 413, no such oration was preached until that over 
 Wilham the Conqueror, in 1087, by Gilbert of Evreux. 
 The public taste for this sort of eloquence was fostered by, 
 if not derived from, the custom of reciting poetical elegies 
 over the dead. In the twelfth century, funeral sermons 
 were multiplied everywhere. Leger, archbishop of Bourges, 
 preached that of Robert Arbriscesle, in February 11 17. 
 Pope Gelasius II., having died at Cluny in 11 19, Peter of 
 Poitiers, monk of that abbey, honoured his obsequies by 
 a discourse which Muratori has preserved. The present 
 volume contains extracts from that pronounced in 1138 by 
 St Bernard to the memory of his brother Gerard, who had 
 been a monk of Clairvaux. In 1148, St Bernard delivered 
 that of St Malachy, primate of Ireland, who died at Clair- 
 vaux in the same year. These orations have been justly 
 thought worthy of a comparison with the finest specimens 
 of Greek and Roman eloquence. It appears that from 
 France the custom passed into Germany ; for Imbricon, 
 bishop of Wirtzburg, preached at the funeral of St Otto, 
 Bishop of Bamberg, who died in 1139. 
 
 This custom had a manifest tendency to improve the 
 ordinary preaching of God's holy Word. Robert d'Arbris- 
 cesle and his companions, Bernard de Tiron, Vital de 
 Mortain or de Savigne, Raoul de la Futaie, especially 
 distinguished themselves. Gerard de la Sale roused the 
 people of Aquitaine to repentance. The foundation of 
 many monasteries attested the success of their ministry, — 
 in Languedoc, in Poitou, in Limousin, in Perigord. 
 
MiloJi of Poitiers^ the Crusader. 7 1 
 
 Vital having preached in 11 19 at the Council of Rheims, 
 Pope Calixtus II., who was present, declared that no one 
 had ever so well represented to him the duties of the 
 sovereign pontiff. On the other hand, St Norbert, and 
 Hugo, his first companion, busied themselves not only in 
 preaching, but in forming the style and method of other 
 preachers. Roger, first the scholar, and afterwards the 
 companion, of the same St Norbert, was remarkable for his 
 force and unction. Erlebaud, dean of Cambrai, is remem- 
 bered for his wonderful knowledge of holy Scripture. 
 Young monks began to preach to their brethren in the 
 cloister. There they acquired fluency and confidence. 
 From thence they set out to address kings upon their 
 thrones, vast congregations in cathedrals and in the open 
 air ; while some accompanied the Crusaders, raising their 
 courage to frenzy before battle, sustaining it in defeat, and 
 often reheving the tedium of a march through deserts or 
 hostile lands. Such was Milon, a Cistertian of the diocese 
 of Poitiers, whom Richard the Lion-hearted took with him 
 to the Holy Land. Any one wishing to examine closely 
 the literary history of the pulpit in France and other 
 neighbouring countries during the twelfth century, may 
 consult with advantage an elaborate work entitled " His- 
 toire literaire de la France ou Ton traite de I'origine 
 et du Progres, de la Decadence et du retablissement des 
 Sciences parmi les Gaulois et parmi les Francois ; du gout 
 et du ge'nie des uns et des autres pour les Letres en 
 chaque siecle ; de leurs anciennes Ecoles ; de I'etabHsse- 
 ment des Universites en France j des principaux Colleges ; 
 des Acade'mies des Sciences et Belles-Letres ; des meill- 
 cures Bibhotheques anciennes et modernes ; des plus 
 celebres Imprimeries ; et de tout ce qui a un rapport par- 
 
72 Martin Luther. 
 
 ticulier a la Literature. Par des Religieux Benedictins de 
 la Congregation de S. Maur. A Paris. 1750." (sic.) 
 
 FATHER MARTIN LUTHER. 
 
 The illustrious monk of Wittemburg, in the following 
 caustic observations, seems to point out an evil method of 
 preaching in which the German pulpit orators of the ante- 
 Reformation period more or less indulged. He denounces 
 the preachers who aimed "at sublimity, difficulty, and 
 eloquence ; who, neglecting the souls of the poor, sought 
 their own praise and honour, and to please one or two 
 persons of consequence." 
 
 '-^ When a man," says Luther, " comes into the pulpit for 
 the first time, he is much perplexed by the number of 
 heads before him. When I ascend the pulpit, I see no 
 heads, but imagine those that are before me to be all 
 blocks. When I preach I sink myself deeply down; I 
 regard neither doctors nor masters, of which there are in 
 the church above forty. But I have an eye to the m_ulti- 
 tude of young people, children, and servants, of which 
 there are more than two thousand. I preach to them. I 
 direct my discourse to those that have need of it. A 
 preacher should be a logician and a rhetorician ; that is, 
 he must be able to teach and to admonish. When he 
 preaches on any article he must first distinguish it, then 
 define, describe^ and show what it is ; thirdly, he must 
 produce sentences from the Scripture to prove and to 
 strengthen it ; fourthl}^, he must explain it by examples ; 
 fifthly, he must adorn it with similitudes ; and lastly, he 
 must admonish and arouse the indolent, correct the dis- 
 obedient, and reprove the authors of false doctrine." 
 
 A quaint parallel to this counsel of Luther is to be found 
 
Ig?ioraHce of the Monks. 73 
 
 in an anecdote told of an old Yorkshire clergyman. A 
 friend asked him if he studied \h^ fathers before he began 
 to write his sermons. " No," was the reply. " I rather study 
 the inoihers^ for they have the greater need of comfort and 
 encouragement." 
 
 The Spaniards have a proverb which sarcastically de- 
 scribes preachers fond of high-sounding words without 
 meaning. It is derived from the Arabic, and came to Spain 
 through the Moors. It represents such preachers as mills, 
 of which we hear the clatter, but from which we never obtain 
 any flour. 
 
 Monkish Error. 
 The ignorance wiiich prevailed in reference to the Scrip- 
 tures when Luther was raised up of God to reform the 
 Church, in the beginning of the sixteenth century, was in- 
 deed surprising. Conrad of Heresbach, a grave author of 
 that age, relates a fact of a monk saying to his companions, 
 "They have invented a new language, which they call Greek : 
 you must be carefully on your guard against it; it is the mother 
 of all heresy. I observe in the hands of many persons a 
 book written in that language, and which they call the New 
 Testament : it is a book full of daggers and poison. As to 
 the Hebrew, my brethren, it is certain that whoever learns 
 it becomes immediately a Jew." 
 
 Ignorance of Monks. 
 It is very affecting to contemplate the ignorance which 
 existed in Europe before printing was introduced. Stephanus 
 relates an anecdote of a certain doctor of the Sorbonne, 
 who, speaking of the Reformers, expressed his surprise at 
 their mode of reasoning, by exclaiming, " I wonder whjf 
 
74 Frede7'ic the Wise. 
 
 these youths are always quoting the New Testament. I 
 was more than fifty years old before I knew anything of a 
 New Testament." And Albert, Archbishop and Elector of 
 Mentz, in the year 1530, accidentally meeting with a Bible, 
 opened it, and having read some pages, observed, "Indeed 
 I do not know what this book is ; but this I see, that every- 
 thing in it is against us." Even Carolastadius, who was 
 afterwards one of the Reformers, acknowledged that he 
 never began to read the Bible till eight years after he had 
 taken his highest degree in divinity. Many other equally 
 striking facts might be introduced, illustrative of the igno- 
 rance of the Scriptures which prevailed at that time. 
 
 FREDERIC THE WISE, ELECTOR OF SAXONY, 
 
 When conversing one day with Staupitz, the Vicar-Gene- 
 ral, about the monks and friars who filled their sermons 
 with emptiness, is said to have made the following pro- 
 found observations : *' All discourses that are filled only 
 with subtleties and human traditions, are wonderfully cold 
 and unimpressive ; since no subtlety can be advanced that 
 another subtlety cannot overthrow. The Holy Scriptures 
 alone are clothed with such power and majesty, that, 
 destroying all our learned reasoning-machines, they press 
 us close, and compel us to say : * Never man spake like 
 this man.' " Staupitz having expressed himself entirely of 
 that opinion, the Elector shook him cordially by the hand, 
 and said, " Promise me that you will always think the 
 same." An eminent judge was asked why he never at- 
 tended the Temple Church where the Reverend Theyre 
 Smith, Canon Benson, and other distinguished divines 
 preached wonderful sermons about twenty years ago. The 
 judge preferred to attend the ministry of a pious, but some- 
 
Francis Coster, 
 
 15 
 
 what weak-minded, clergyman of so-called evangelical 
 sentiments. He replied, " If I go to the Temple Church, 
 I hear an argument on some point of the external or in- 
 ternal evidence of Christianity, some defence of the 
 doctrine of a divine moral government. I remember the 
 days when I was a barrister on circuit, and I cannot help 
 thinking that a good case might be made out on the other 
 side. When I kneel down to pray to my Maker, my dis- 
 tress at such thoughts is intolerable, so I attend the 
 preaching of Dr So-so, who, without argument, tells me in 
 a simple strain, which requires no mental effort on my part, 
 that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners." 
 
 FRANCIS COSTER, 153I-1619, 
 
 Mr Gould has collected several beautiful specimens of 
 what may be called the parable and story-telling style of 
 preaching, adopted by some of the mediaeval clergy, as 
 best adapted to congregations, the greater part of whom 
 could not read, and who required the simplest and most 
 elementary food for their souls. Among these examples, 
 the following is conspicuous. What an effect its utterance 
 must have had on the delicate fibres of a good child's 
 heart ! Let Mr Gould tell the story in his own ingenious 
 way : — 
 
 " There is," says he, " one delightful mediaeval tale re- 
 produced by him which I shall venture to relate, as it is 
 full of beauty, and inculcates a wholesome lesson. There 
 is a ballad in German on the subject, to be found in Pocci 
 and Gores' Fest Ka/e/idar, which has been translated into 
 English, and published in some Roman Catholic children's 
 books. 
 
 " The story was, I believe, originated by Anthony of 
 
76 Francis Coster s Story. 
 
 Sienna, who relates it in his chronicle of the Dominican 
 order ; and it was from him that the preachers and writers 
 of the Middle Ages drew the incident. With the reader's 
 permission, I will tell the story in my own words, instead 
 of giving the stiff and dry record found in Coster. 
 
 " There was once a good priest who served a church in 
 Lusitania ; and he had two pupils, little boys, who came 
 to him daily to learn their letters, and to be instructed in 
 the Latin tongue. 
 
 " Now these children were wont to come early from 
 home, and to assist at mass, before ever they ate their 
 breakfast or said their lessons. And thus was each day 
 sanctified to them, and each day saw them grow in grace 
 and in favour with God and man. 
 
 " These little ones were taught to serve at the Holy 
 Sacrifice, and they performed their parts with care and 
 reverence. They knelt and responded, they raised the 
 priest's chasuble and kissed its hem, they rang the bell at 
 the sanctus and the "elevation ; and all they did they did 
 right well. 
 
 " And when mass was over they extinguished the altar 
 lights ; and then, taking their little loaf and can of milk, 
 retired to a side chapel for their breakfast. 
 
 " One day the elder lad said to his master — 
 
 " ' Good father, who is the strange child who visits us 
 every morning when we break our fast ' 
 
 " ' I know not,' answered the priest. And when the 
 children asked the same question day by day, the old man 
 wondered, and said, ' Of what sort is he ?' 
 
 " '■ He is dressed in a white robe without seam, and it 
 reacheth from his neck to his feet.' 
 
 *' ' Whence cometh he]' 
 
Francis Coster s Story. 77 
 
 " ' He steppetli down to us suddenly, as it were, from 
 the altar. And we asked him to share our food with us : 
 and that he doth right willingly every morning.' 
 
 "■ Then the priest wondered yet more, and he asked, 
 
 * Are there marks by which I should know him, were I to 
 see him % ' 
 
 " ' Yes, father ; he hath wounds in his hands and feet ; 
 and as we give him of our food the blood flows forth 
 and moistens the bread in his hands, till it blushes like a 
 rose.' 
 
 " And when the master heard this, a great awe fell upon 
 him, and he was silent awhile. But at last he said gravely, 
 
 * O my sons, know that the Holy Child, Jesus, hath been 
 with you. Now when He cometh again, say to Him, 
 Thou, O Lord, hast breakfasted with us full often ; 
 grant that we brothers and our dear master may sup with 
 Thee.' 
 
 " And the children did as the priest bade them. The 
 Child Jesus smiled sweetly, as they made the request, and 
 replied, * Be it so ; on Thursday next, the Day of My 
 Ascension, ye shall sup with Me.' 
 
 " So when Ascension Day arrived, the Httle ones came 
 very early as usual, but they brought not their loaf nor 
 the tin of milk. And they assisted at mass as usual ; they 
 vested the priest, they lighted the tapers, they chanted the 
 responds, they rang the bell. But when the Pax Vohiscum 
 had been said they remained on their knees, kneeling be- 
 hind the priest. And so they gently fell asleep in Christ, 
 and they, with their dear master, sat down at the marriage 
 supper of the Lamb." 
 
78 Thomas Briiickeriiick. 
 
 A Good Pastor. 
 
 The following quaint description of a good pastor is 
 found in a sermon belonging to this period : — 
 
 " A spiritual pastor, like a real shepherd, should carry 
 bread and salt in a bag, that is, the bread of good life and 
 discretion ; he should use water for drink, that is, living 
 water ; he should eat green herbs, that is, have provision 
 of good examples ; he should keep a dog to guard the 
 sheep, that is, a learned tongue ; he should wear coarse 
 raiment, and a leathern girdle, indicating that he despises 
 earthly pleasures and subdues the flesh ; he should sleep 
 under a low roof, implying that he has no abiding city, 
 but sighs after heaven ; he should have straw for his bed, 
 as significative of living an austere life j and trees and 
 leaves for sheets in bed, representing the words of Scrip- 
 ture which are his covering and defence ; he should have 
 a crook for a staff, as implying his dependence on the 
 cross ; a pipe to play on to collect the flock, denoting the 
 voice of praise and prayer ; and a sling for the wolf, to 
 signify the justice with which he may put to flight the 
 devil." 
 
 THOMAS BRINCKERINCK, 
 
 Confessor to the Beguines, was a celebrated Dutch 
 preacher of the fourteenth century. " Once," says Thomas 
 k Kempis, '' he was preaching on the circumcision, and 
 treating most sweetly of the name of JesuSj exalting this 
 blessed and delicious name above all things in heaven and 
 earth. At length, he condescended to rebuke some foolish 
 and secular men, because, woe is me ! they spake less re- 
 verently, nay, and even jokingly, of that holy and inviol- 
 able name. And he exclaimed and said, ' There are some 
 
Father SegJieri, the Jesuit 79 
 
 who cry with a contemptuous sneer. Ho, ho ! Jesus is the 
 God of the Beguines ! Fools and miserable men ! Jesus 
 the God of the Beguines ? Then, pray, who is your God % 
 Truly, it is the devil. To us this holy name is a great 
 honour, and a singular joy. Over and over again our 
 brethren name Jesus ; above all other things they worship 
 Jesus ; before and above the names of all the saints, they 
 love and adore Jesus, the Son of the living God, whom ye 
 deride and despise. True it is that the brothers and the 
 Beguines do name Jesus wiUingly — do laud Him devoutly 
 — do salute each other in His name. And woe to you, 
 who have the devil in your mouths oftener than Jesus ! 
 He is too lowly and despised to please you.' Thus 
 speedily," adds Thomas, " he gladdened the lovers of 
 Jesus, and confounded His deriders according to their 
 deserts." 
 
 FATHER SEGNERI, THE JESUIT, THE WHITEFIELD OF ITALY. 
 
 This celebrated preacher belongs in style and character 
 to the ante-Reformation period, although he did not die till 
 1694. The revival of classical learning, the new interest 
 awakened for the antiquities of the Augustan age of Roman 
 art, had reacted on the Italian pulpit. Men arose who 
 were almost ready to call Our Blessed Saviour Jove, and 
 St Paul Mercurius. Hardouin, the Jesuit, contended that 
 the Odes of Horace were written by some Benedictine 
 monk, and thatLalage herself was nothing more than a poet- 
 ical symbol of the Christian faith. On this Boileau is said 
 to have observed, "I am no great admirer of monks, but 
 I should like to have enjoyed the friendship of Sir Virgil 
 and brother Horace." Segneri led the way in promoting a 
 nobler, because more scriptural, method. He has been 
 
8o Father Seg?ieri, the Jesuit. 
 
 called the restorer of Italian eloquence. He set before 
 himself St Chrysostom as his model. In his life he was 
 austere and pure. He may be compared to George White- 
 field for the bold and original force with which he de- 
 nounced the crying sins of the notorious age in which he 
 lived ; when popes were distinguished for profligacy, when 
 justice seemed to have departed from the world ; when 
 the whole fabric of society was tottering. The invention 
 of printing, and the discovery of the new world, seemed to 
 invite speculation, if they did not encourage infideUty. 
 Old superstitions, hallowed by the prescription of a thou- 
 sand years, suddenly collapsed and crumbled into dust. 
 The weightiest truths trembled in the balance of popular 
 thought. At such a crisis, Segneri appeared. He boldly 
 stood on the ancient paths. " He preached, not argued : 
 conscience did the rest." Hear how he discourses on 
 
 The Everlasting Burnings. 
 " What then, after all, have I this morning to do, but pour 
 forth two copious streams of inconsolable grief for the 
 many souls who see hell open before them, and yet do 
 not draw back, but boldly press on to launch themselves 
 into its flames ? Ah, no : stop, ye wretched beings, for a 
 moment ; stop ! — and, before plunging with a headlong 
 leap into that abyss, let me demand of you, in the words 
 of the same Isaiah — Which of you can dwell with the de- 
 vouring fire ? Which of you cafi dwell with everlasting 
 burnings^ (xxxiii. 14, Vulg.) Excuse me, my people; for 
 this once you are not to leave the church unless you have 
 first made a satisfactory reply to my demand — Which of 
 you can dwell with everlasting burnings 1 What say est 
 thou, O lady, who art so tender in cherishing thy flesh?-^ 
 
Father Segneri, the Jestiit. 
 
 Canst thou dwell ivith everlasting burnings I Now thou 
 canst not bear it, should the point of a needle at thy work 
 lightly stain thy delicate skin. How thinkest thou then? 
 Wilt thou be able to endure those terrific engines by which 
 thou must feel thyself dismembered, disjointed, and with 
 an everlasting butchery crushed into powder ? What sayest 
 thou, O man, who art so intent on providing for thy per- 
 sonal comforts % — Canst thou dwell ivith everlasting burn- 
 ings ? Now thou canst not tolerate the breath of a poor 
 man, who, by coming near thee, in the least offends thy 
 organs of smell. Wilt thou be able to stand those foul 
 stenches, by which thou must feel thyself poisoned, stifled, 
 and with an everlasting suffocation pressed down to the 
 ground ] And thou, what sayest thou for thyself, O priest, 
 who art so negligent in the discharge of thy duties 1 — Canst 
 thou dwell with everlasting burnings "i Now thou art not 
 able to remain in the choir of thy church a single hour 
 without looking indecently about thee, without being rest- 
 less, without indulging thy tongue in every kind of gossip. 
 How then does it strike theel Wilt thou be able to 
 remain through all the ages of eternity, I say not, reclining 
 on thy elegantly-carved stall, but rather stretched out on 
 an iron framework, on a bed of flames, there to be Hsten- 
 ing to the demon's howls ringing in thy ears % What sayest 
 thou, O glutton % What sayest thou, O slanderer % What 
 sayest thou, O libertine?— thou young man, luxuriating so 
 wantonly in all thy heart's desires ? — Canst thou divell with 
 everlasting burnings ? Alas ! who, who among us can ? 
 And yet, why do I thus enlarge on the case of other people ? 
 Excuse me : of myself, of myself I ought to speak ; of 
 myself, an ecclesiastic it is true, as cannot be denied from 
 my dress, and yet a wretched creature, so ur mortified, so 
 
 1 
 
82 Father Segneri, the Jesuit. 
 
 headstrong, so vain, so averse to that true penitence, which 
 my sins demand of me ! If I am not able to remain for a 
 short time before the presence of my Lord in tears for my 
 sins, if I am so fond of my own ease, if I am so studious 
 of my own reputation, how can I hereafter, wretch that I 
 am, stand fixed for ever and ever at the feet of Lucifer, 
 the place assigned to such as myself, to such as having 
 undertaken to confer benefits on other men, and been 
 gifted accordingly for that purpose with so much light and 
 knowledge, and so many endowments, have betrayed my 
 vow by my actions % Ah, Lord, have pity, have pity ! 
 We have sinned ; we know it ; we confess it. ' We have 
 done ungodly, we have dealt unrighteously in all thy ordin- 
 ances,' (Baruch ii. 12.) And therefore we cannot make 
 bold to ask Thee not to punish us. Punish us, then, since 
 we well deserve it. Reivai-d the proud after their deserving^ 
 (Ps. xciv. 2.) Only, in Thine infinite mercy, may it please 
 Thee not to sentence our souls to hell. O hell, O hell, 
 the mere mention of thee is enough to overwhelm us with 
 horror ! This is the punishment from which, not for our 
 merit's sake, but for the sake of Thy agony, for the sake 
 of Thy bloody sweat, we entreat Thee to deliver us. O 
 Lord, correct 7ne, but with judg7Jieiit ; not iii Thine anger, lest 
 Thou bri7ig me to nothing^ (Jer. x. 24.) Behold us willing 
 to suffer in this life the worst it may please Thee to bring 
 upon us. |Here, put us to pain ; here, chastise us ; here, lay 
 Thy rod upon us : " Consume us here, cut us to pieces 
 here ; only spare us in eternity," (S. Augustine.) Send us 
 poverty now, that we may be spared in eternity. Send 
 us reproach now, that we may be spared in eternity. 
 Send us sickness now, that we may be spared in eternity. 
 Send us just as many evils as may please Thee, in this 
 
Father Scgncri, the Jesuit. 83 
 
 world, provided we be spared for ever in the world to 
 come — that we may be spared in eternity, that we may be 
 spared in eternity." 
 
 Take also the following description of 
 
 The SottPs Flight from Earth to Heaven, 
 " Let all here present determine to decline accepting 
 whatsoever the earth has to offer us ; and, lifting up at 
 last our eyes to heaven, let us say, Glorious things., yes 
 assuredly, ^/(^r/^^/j things are written of thee, thou city of God! 
 (Ps. Ixxxvii. 3.) 
 
 " But how am I grieved that I should have been so slow 
 to learn these glorious things that are written of thee 2 If, 
 however, I once so basely preferred the earth, it was not 
 for Thy demerit ; it only arose from this, that I knew 
 Thee not. But now who shall ever prevail to shut Thee 
 out from my heart? Shall tribulatioft ? (Rom. viii. 35 ;) 
 not so ; for thou shalt change it for me into the sweetest 
 contentments. Shall distress ? — not so ; for Thou shalt 
 transform it for me into the most perfect peace. Shall 
 hunger ? — not so ; for Thou shalt satisfy it for me with a 
 most luscious nectar. Shall nakedness ? — not so ; for 
 Thou shalt cover it for me with royal apparel. Shall 
 peril "2 — not so ; for Thou shalt turn it for me into immove- 
 able security. Shall persecution 2 — not so ; for Thou shalt 
 recompense it to me with a glorious triumph. Shall the 
 sword 2 — no, no ; not even the sword shall ever cut me 
 away from thee, my beautiful celestial country : not even 
 the sword, I say ; for Thou shalt convert its steel into gold, 
 its point into rays of light, its circling edge into a crown 
 of rejoicing !" 
 
84 Father Faber's Story. 
 
 FATHER FABER, 
 
 Once a clergyman of the Church of England, in his work 
 on (Roman) Catholic Home Missions, narrates the fol- 
 lowing story, thoroughly characteristic of mediaeval preach- 
 ing and work : — 
 
 Once upon a time, as story-tellers say, there was a great 
 missioner in France, of the name of Morcain. Now it 
 came to pass that this great missioner was going to give 
 a mission in a certain French town, whose inhabitants 
 were very much opposed to missions. The devil did not 
 at all relish the prospect of the aforesaid M. Morcain ; 
 and, after due deliberation, entered into the ouvriers of 
 this French town, and inspired them with a design quite 
 worthy of himself. They met together, and they were not 
 few in number, and they set out with their arms bare, and 
 their teddytiler caps upon their heads, as nice a specimen 
 of sansculottism as may well be conceived. The reader 
 may divine the interior life of this procession, which 
 marched out to salute in somewhat peculiar fashion the 
 approaching missionary. They advanced along the road 
 chanting a parody of the popular song : — 
 
 " C'est I'amour, I'amour, I'amour, 
 Qui mene le monde a la ronde," 
 to this effect — 
 
 *' C'est le Morcain, le Morcain, le Morcain, 
 Qui damne le monde k la ronde." 
 
 The unsuspecting missioner came quietly along in his 
 vehicle, very likely getting up his evening discourse, when 
 lo and behold, he is in the middle of this delectable crowd. 
 However, a Frenchman is not often at fault. Forthwith 
 he descends from the carriage, jumps into the middle of 
 the crowd, takes hold of their hands, and commences 
 
Father Fulgent to. 85 
 
 dancing in the most brilliant style, at the same time join- 
 ing in the chorus with right good will, " C'est le Morcain, 
 le Morcain." Away he goes dancing and singing, and his 
 sansculottes with him, till they reach the door of the church, 
 into which he also dances, irreverent fellow ! and the crowd 
 after him. But there he is on his own ground, and straight- 
 way he mounts the pulpit, and preaches a most tremend- 
 ous fire-and-brimstone sermon, at the end of which he pro- 
 claims that if, during the whole course of the mission, any 
 one who has sung that song wants to go to confession he 
 has only to cry out, Monsieur, j'ai chante le Morcain, and 
 he shall be heard immediately, before any one else. No 
 waiting for turns. No v-^eary delay. No besieging the 
 missioner's confessional for hours. No, he has gained 
 an immediate hearing. And so it was. Ever and anon, 
 during the mission, from the outermost edge of huge crowds 
 of women and others, no matter what was going on, came 
 in a loud voice the appointed signal. Monsieur, j'ai chante 
 le Morcain. No sooner said than done. It is as though 
 he were some royal personage. A passage is formed 
 through the red sea of people for him ; every one else 
 gives way ; no one claims his turn ; it is a bargain j it is 
 fun and consolation and earnestness all in one, and there 
 is Monsieur j'ai chante le Morcain foreshadowing his own 
 arrival and acceptance one day at his Saviour's feet in 
 heaven, in tears at the feet of him who thus knew how to 
 be all things to all men, that by any means he might gain 
 some. 
 
 FATHER FULGENTIO 
 
 Was the friend and biographer of the celebrated Paul 
 Sarpi. He belongs to the transition period, between the 
 mediaeval and that which followed the Reformation. He 
 
86 The Pulpit Hour- Glass. 
 
 was secretly the friend of that great movement. He pro- 
 moted, in a quaint but forcible manner, the circulation of 
 the Holy Bible, and the strong curiosity then roused to per- 
 use its pages. One day he was preaching on the sorrowful 
 question of Pilate, " What is truth ? " He told his hearers 
 that after long, patient, and painful toil he had found it. 
 Holding forth a copy of the New Testament, " Here it 
 IS," he exclaimed. " Here it is ! But," he added, as he 
 returned the precious volume to his pocket, " you must 
 not read it ; you must not even look at it ! It is a sealed 
 book ! It IS A sealed book ! " 
 
 The Pulpit Hour- Glass. 
 
 There is reason to believe that the use of the hour-glass 
 in the pulpit is a little older than the Reformation. A 
 curious specimen is to be seen in the pulpit of the 
 Cathedral of Berne, which seems almost coeval with the 
 building itself. The latter was commenced 142 1, and 
 finished 1457. 
 
 In the frontispiece prefixed to the Holy Bible of the 
 Bishops' Translation, imprinted by Johji Day, 1569, Arch- 
 bishop Parker is represented with an hour-glass placed at 
 his right hand. Clocks and watches were then but rarely 
 in use. The latter were called Nuremberg eggs, because 
 they had been invented at that Birmingham of the middle 
 ages, and the works were enclosed in the shells of birds' 
 eggs. The hour-glass, showing the flow of the sands of 
 time, was the most convenient instrument for informing a 
 preacher of the length of his argument. 
 
 Prolixity and vehemence are common arts for obtaining 
 popularity. That, for instance, of Edward Irving culmi- 
 nated and began to decline, when he preached for four, 
 
The Pulpit Hour-Glass. 87 
 
 if not for five hours, at the Whitefieldite Chapel in Tot- 
 tenham Court Road, sitting down to rest himself at inter- 
 vals during the tremendous effort, and taking some light 
 refreshment. 
 
 The ignorant and enthusiastic measure the value of a 
 sermon by the quantity of the words, rather than the 
 quality of the matter. They like to take religious in- 
 struction in enormous drams and doses. In some cases 
 the mental powers of digestion are hopelessly impaired by 
 the process. In others, the imagination is intoxicated and 
 the conscience drugged. " Immoderate length in all kinds 
 of religious offices," says Dr Campbell in his " Lectures on 
 the Pastoral Character," " has ever had an influence on 
 weak and superstitious minds ; and for this reason, those 
 who have hypocritically affected the religious character, 
 have ever chosen to distinguish themselves by this circum- 
 stance. The Pharisees who made use of religion as a 
 cover to their pride and extortion, ' for a pretence,' as our 
 Lord tells us, ' made long prayers.' He who never spoke 
 a word in vain did not add the epithet long unmeaningly. 
 The length of their devotions, as well as the breadth of their 
 phylacteries, and the largeness of the fringes of the corners 
 of their garments, were all so many engines of their craft." 
 
 The pungent and epigrammatic South denounces, with 
 all his accomplished powers of sarcasm, the new sort of 
 gymnastic exercises in which the Puritans of the seven- 
 teenth century had delighted to excel. He emphatically 
 denominates such efforts preaching prizes^ in which the 
 competitors in the contest vied with one another, which 
 could pour forth the mightiest torrent of sesquipedalian' 
 words, and which could shout out, unexhausted, for the 
 longest period of time. 
 
Evil of Long Sermons. 
 
 " Can anything," asks Dr Campbell, with profound 
 wisdom and discrimination, " of the nature, use, and end 
 of preaching be understood or regarded, where such a 
 Pharisaic trick is put in practice % It may be said that 
 the appetite of some persons is here insatiable. Depend 
 upon it, wherever that is the case, it is a false appetite, 
 and followed by no digestion. The whole significancy of 
 those exercises to such is the time spent in them, and 
 the transient emotions they feel when thus employed." 
 
 It may be observed, that the use of hour-glasses appears 
 to have decUned after the Revolution of 1688. " One 
 whole houre-glasse,'' " one halfe-hour-glasse," occur in an 
 ■inventory, taken about 1632, of the goods and utensils of 
 All-Saints' Church, Newcastle-upon-Tyne.'"* 
 
 Daniel Burgess, a nonconformist preacher, famous at the 
 beginning of the last century for the intolerable length of 
 his pulpit harangues, and for the quaintness of his illustra- 
 tions, was one day declaiming with great vehemence against 
 the sin of drunkenness. Having exhausted the usual time, 
 he turned the glass, and said, " Brethren, I have some 
 further observations to make on the nature and conse- 
 quences of drunkenness \ so let 's have the other glass, 
 AND THEN, AND THEN ! " This witticism seems to have 
 been followed from the frontispiece of a small volume, 
 entitled " England's Shame, or a Relation of the Life and 
 Death of Hugh Peters. By Dr WilHam Young, 1663." 
 Hugh Peters is here represented preaching, holding an 
 hour-glass in his left hand, while he is in the act of saying, 
 " I know you are good fellows ; so let 's have another 
 
 GLASS." 
 
 M. Mullois, a modern French writer, chaplain to Na- 
 • Brand's " History of Newcastle-on-Tyne," vol. ii,, p. 370, notes. 
 
Evil of Long Sermo?is. 89 
 
 poleon III., following the suggestions of St Francis de 
 Sales, makes the following cogent observations on the 
 subject of brevity : — 
 
 "Beheve me, and I speak from experience, the more 
 you say, the less will the hearers retain ; the less you say, 
 the more they will profit. By dint of burdening their 
 memory, you will overwhelm it; just as a lamp is extin- 
 guished by feeding it with too much oil, and plants are 
 choked by immoderate irrigation. 
 
 " When a sermon is too long, the end erases the middle 
 from the memory, and the middle the beginning. 
 
 " Even mediocre preachers are acceptable, provided 
 their discourses are short; whereas even the best preachers 
 are a burden when they speak too long." 
 
 Is not long preaching very much like an attempt to 
 surpass these men, who were so highly imbued with the 
 spirit of Christianity % 
 
 Luther's maxim to a young preacher was — 
 
 " Tritf frisch mif—thu's maid aiif—hoor bald a7if^' — 
 
 "Stand up cheerily — speak up manfully — leave off 
 
 speedily." 
 
 ^ * * * * 
 
 The Puritans led the way in introducing long and 
 wearisome sermons. One said, " Now to be brief, I re- 
 mark, eighteenthly — 1" 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 ANECDOTES AND REMINISCENCES OF CELEBRATED FRENCH, 
 SPANISH, GERMAN, AND OTHER FOREIGN PREACHERS, 
 FROM THE TIME OF THE REFORMATION. 
 
 FATHER SERAPHIN. 
 
 ATHER SERAPHIN was strongly commended 
 by La Bruyere as a preacher thoroughly 
 worthy of participating in the uninterrupted 
 apostolical succession. The first time that 
 the Father preached before King Lewis XIV., he said 
 to the monarch, " Sire, I am not ignorant of the custom, 
 according to the prescription of which I ought to pay 
 you a compliment in my discourse. This I hope your 
 Majesty will be graciously pleased to dispense with ; for 
 I have been searching for a compliment in the Scriptures, 
 and unhappily, I have not been able to find one." 
 
 M. LE TOURNEAU. 
 
 When M. Le Tourneau preached the Lent lectures at 
 St Benoit in Paris, in the place of Father Quesnel, who 
 had been compelled to abscond, Lewis XIV. inquired of 
 Boileau if he knew anything about a preacher, after whom 
 everybody in the town was running. " Sire," replied the 
 wit and satirist, " your Majesty knows that people always 
 
92 Archbishop Fenelo7i. 
 
 run after novelties. This man preaches the gospel." The 
 king then pressing the poet to give his serious opinion on 
 the subject, Boileau added, " When Mons. Le Tourneau 
 mounts the pulpit, his ugliness so disgusts the congrega- 
 tion, that they wish he would go down again ; but when 
 he begins to speak, they dread the time of his descending 
 as the greatest misfortune." 
 
 It is a singular fact that this very successful orator, after 
 he had entered into holy orders, thought himself so ill- 
 qualified for the pulpit, that he actually went and re- 
 nounced all the duties of the priesthood. It was not 
 until some time afterwards, that, moved by the earnest 
 entreaties of Mons. De Lacy, he was induced to resume 
 them. 
 
 The remark of Boileau, that the fervent preaching of 
 the gospel was at that period a novelty, will recall to the 
 minds of some the candid confession of a preacher at 
 Mols, near Antwerp, who, in a sermon delivered to an 
 audience consisting entirely of his own order, is said to 
 have observed : " We are worse than the traitor Judas. 
 He sold and delivered his Master. We sell Him to you, 
 but we deliver Him not." 
 
 FENELON. 
 
 [Fran9ois de Salignac de Lamotte, born Aug. 6, 1651, at the ChSteau 
 de Fenelon, Perigord, died Jan. 7, 1715.] 
 
 When Fenelon was almoner to Lewis XIV., it was his 
 duty to attend that monarch to a sermon preached by a 
 Capuchin. Being greatly fatigued, he fell asleep. The 
 Capuchin perceived what had happened, and breaking off 
 his discourse, exclaimed, in angry tones, "Awake that 
 
Archbishop Fenclon. 93 
 
 sleeping abbe, who comes here only to pay his court to 
 the king." This reproof Fenelon often related with plea- 
 sure after he became Archbishop of Cambray. 
 
 At another time the king was surprised to see only 
 Fenelon and the priest at the royal chapel, instead of a 
 numerous congregation, as usual. " What is the reason 
 of all this?" inquired the monarch. "Why," replied 
 Fenelon, " I caused it to be announced that your Majesty 
 would not attend divine service to-day, that you might 
 know, sire, who came to worship God, and who to flatter 
 the king." 
 
 When Lewis appointed Fenelon chief of the missionaries 
 to convert the Protestants of Sausonge, his Majesty in- 
 sisted that a regiment of guards should accompany him. 
 *' The ministers of religion," said Fenelon, " are the evan- 
 gelists of peace, and the military might frighten all, but 
 would not convert a single individual. It was by the force 
 of their morals that the apostles converted mankmd ; per- 
 mit us, then, sire, to follow their example." " But, alas," 
 said the king, " have you nothing to fear from the fanati- 
 cism of these heretics V " I am no stranger to it, sire, 
 but a priest must not let fears like these enter into his 
 calculation ; and I take the liberty of mentioning to your 
 Majesty, that if we would convert our diffident brethren, 
 we must go to them like true and primitive apostles. For 
 my own part, I w^ould rather become their victim than see 
 one of them, or the young ladies of their family, exposed 
 to the vexations, the insults, the almost necessary violence 
 of our mihtary men." 
 
 Not long before he died, Fenelon ascended the pulpit 
 of his cathedral, preached a sermon, and excommunicated 
 in person such of his writings as the Pope had interdicted. 
 
94 Antho7iy of Vieyra. 
 
 He placed on the altar a piece of sacred plate, on which 
 were embossed some books, with the titles of those which 
 had been denounced as heretical struck with the fire of 
 heaven. 
 
 ANTHONY OF VIEYRA. 
 
 Was a remarkable orator among the Spaniards and Portu- 
 guese. He was humorous while instructive. One of his 
 most celebrated sermons was addressed to the fishes. 
 It is still remembered and quoted in Spain. 
 
 " What/' says he, " are we to preach to-day to the 
 fishes % No audience can be worse. At least fishes have 
 two good qualities as hearers — they can hear, and they 
 cannot speak. One thing only might discourage the 
 preacher — that fishes aj'e a kind of race who cannot be con- 
 verted. But this circumstance is here so very ordinary, that 
 froJJi custom one feels it no longer. For this cause, I shall 
 not speak to-day of heaven or of hell ; and thus this ser- 
 mon will be less gloomy than mine are usually considered, 
 from putting men continually in remembrance of these 
 
 two ends. 
 
 ****** 
 
 " To begin, then, with your praises, fishes and brethren. I 
 might very well tell you that, of all living and sensitive 
 creatures, you were the first which God created. He 
 made you before the fowls of the air ; He made you before 
 the beasts of the earth ; He made you before man him^ 
 self. God gave to man the monarchy and dominion over 
 all the animals of the three elements, and in the charter 
 in which He honoured him with these powers, fishes are 
 the first named. Let them have dominion over the fish of 
 the sea, and over the fozvl of the air, and over the cattle. 
 
Abraha7n Sanda Clara. 95 
 
 x\mong all animals, fishes are the most numerous and the 
 
 largest For this reason Moses, the chronicler of 
 
 the creation, while he does not mention the name of other 
 animals, names a fish only. God created great whales. 
 And the three musicians of the furnace of Babylon brought 
 forward in their song the name of the same fish with espe- 
 cial honour, O ye whales. . . . bless ye the Lord. These 
 and other praises, then, and other excellences of your 
 creation and greatness, I might well, O fishes, set before 
 you ; but such a matter is only fit for an audience of men 
 who pen7iit themselves to be carried away by these vanities^ 
 and is, also, only suited to those places where adulation is 
 allowed, and not in the pulpit. 
 
 Great praise do ye merit, O fishes, for the respect 
 
 and devotion which ye have had to the preacher of the Word 
 of God; and so much the more, because ye did not exhibit 
 it once only. Jonah went as a preacher of the same God, 
 and was on board a ship when that great tempest arose. 
 How did men theft treat him, and how did fishes treat him ? 
 Men cast him into the sea, to be eaten by fishes; and 
 the fish which followed him carried him to the shores of 
 Nineveh, that he might there preach, and save those men. 
 Is it possible that fishes should assist in the salvation of 
 men?'' * ^^ * -^ * 
 
 Thus he pursues an ingenious argument, which is said 
 to have made a lively impression on his hearers. 
 
 ABRAHAM SANCTA CLARA 
 
 Was a barefooted Augustine monk, who, in 1669, became 
 imperial court preacher to Leopold I., the Emperor of 
 Germany. He was wonderfully popular as an orator. 
 He is said to have been distinguished by brilliance of 
 
96 Abra/ia?n Sancta Clara. 
 
 imagery, genial wit, an animated delivery, and excoriating 
 powers of satire. He died in 1709. The following pass- 
 age is a fair specimen of his droll style, and the method 
 of preaching that was preferred during the times in which 
 he lived, by all classes in Southern Germany. 
 
 The Prodigal Son. 
 
 " Of what country the prodigal son was is not precisely 
 known, but I believe he was an Irishman. What his name 
 was, is not generally understood; but I believe it was 
 Malefacius. From what place he took his title (seeing he 
 was a nobleman) has not yet been discovered; but I 
 believe it was Maidsberg or Womenham. What was the 
 device in his coat of arms, no one has described ; but I 
 believe it was a sow's stomach in a field verd. 
 
 " This chap travelled with well-larded purse through 
 various countries and provinces, and returned no better, 
 but rather worse. So it often happens still, that many a 
 noble youth has his travels changed to travails. Not sel- 
 dom, also, he goes forth a good German, and returns a 
 bad Herman. What honour or credit is it to the noble 
 river Danube that it travels through different lands, 
 through Suabia, Bavaria, Austria, Hungary, and at last 
 unites with a sow ! The pious Jacob saw, in his journey, 
 a ladder to heaven ; but, alas ! many of our quality find, 
 in their journeys, a ladder into hell. If, now-a-days, a 
 man travel not, he is called a Jack-in-the-corner, and one 
 who has set up his rest behind the stove. But tell me, 
 dear half-Germans, (for whole Germans ye have long 
 ceased to be,) Is it not true % Ye send your sons out that 
 they may learn strange vices at great cost in stranger- 
 lands, when, with far less expense, they might be a':quiring 
 
His Pulpit Drolleries. 97 
 
 virtues at home. They return with no more point to them 
 than they went out, except that they bring home some 
 new fashion of poi?it-\d^cQ. They return no more gallant, 
 unless it be that gallant comes from the French galaiif. 
 They return more splendidly clad, but good habits were 
 better than to be finely habited. New-fashioned hats, new- 
 fashioned periwigs, new-fashioned collars, new-fashioned 
 coats, new-fashioned breeches, new-fashioned hose, new- 
 fashioned shoes, new-fashioned ribbons, new-fashioned 
 buttons — also new-fashioned consciences creep into our 
 beloved Germany through your travels. Your fool's frocks 
 change too with every moon ; and soon the tailors will 
 have to estabUsh a university, and take doctor's degrees, 
 and afterwards bear the title of right reverend doctors of 
 fashion. 
 
 "If I had all the newfashions of coats for four-and-twenty 
 years, I would almost make a curtain before the sun with 
 them, so that men should go about with lanterns in the 
 day-time. At least, I would undertake to hide all Turkey 
 with them, so that the Constantinopolitans should think 
 their Mohammed was playing blind-the-cat with them. 
 An old witch, at the request of king Saul, called the pro- 
 phet Samuel from the dead, that he might know the result 
 of his arms. It will soon come to pass, that people will 
 want to call from the dead the identical tailor and master 
 who made the beautiful Esther's garment, when she was 
 
 so well-pleasing in the eyes of Ahasuerus 
 
 ... So the prodigal son learned but little good in foreign 
 lands. His doing was wooing ; his thinking was drinking; 
 his Latin was Proficiat^ his Italian Brindisi, his Bohemian 
 Sasdravi, his German Gesegnets Gott. In one word, he 
 was a goodly fellow always mellow, a vagrant, a bacchant^ 
 
 G 
 
98 Father Selle. 
 
 an amant, a turhant^ a distillaiit, &c. Now he had wasted 
 his substance in foreign provinces, and torn his conscience 
 to tatters as well as his clothes. He might, with truth, 
 have said to his father what the brothers of Joseph said, 
 without truth, to Jacob when they showed him the bloody 
 coat, '' fera pessimal &c., ' an evil beast hath devoured 
 him/ An evil beast devoured the prodigal son : an evil 
 beast, the golden eagle; an evil beast, the golden griffin; an 
 evil beast, the golden buck, an evil beast, the golden bear. 
 These tavern-beasts reduced the youngster to that condi- 
 tion thg,t his breeches -were as transparent as a fisherman's 
 net, his stomach shrunk together hke an empty bladder, 
 and the mirror of his misery was to be seen on the sleeve 
 of his dirty doublet, &c. And now, when the scamp had 
 got sick of the swine-diet, more wholesome thoughts came 
 into his mind, and he would go straight home to his old 
 father, and seek a favourable hearing at his feet ; in wiiich 
 he succeeded according to his wish. And his own father 
 fell quite lovingly on the neck of the bad vocativo, for 
 which a rope would have been fitter. Yea, he w^as intro- 
 duced with special joy and jubilee into the paternal dwell- 
 ing, sudden preparations were made for a feast, kitchen 
 and cellar were put in requisition, and the best and fattest 
 calf must be killed in a hurry, and cooked and roasted. 
 Away with the rags and tatters ! and hurrah for the velvet 
 coat and the prinked up hat and a gold ring ! Bring on 
 your fiddlers ! allegro r^ 
 
 A Dominican, preached a sermon in Poland before Cardi- 
 nal de Jansen, an ambassador there. It forms a pejidaiit 
 to the foregoing, and is, in like manner, a specimen of 
 
Father Sellis Style. 99 
 
 current Roman Catholic oratory. Robinson quotes it in 
 his well-known translation of Claude. 
 
 " Gen. ix. 13, / do set my bow in the cloud. It is not 
 enough for the celestial rainbow to please the eye — it con- 
 veys the richest consolation into the heart ; the Word of 
 God having constituted it the happy presage of tranquillity 
 and peace, / do set my boiv in the cloud. 
 
 *' The hotv, enriched with clouds, becomes the crown of 
 the world — the gracefulness of the air — the garland of the 
 universe — the salubrity of heaven — the pomp of nature — 
 the triumph of serenity — the ensign of love — the picture of 
 clemency — the messenger of liberality — the mansion of 
 amorous smiles — the rich stanza of pleasure — in fine, the 
 trumpet of peace, for / do set my bow in the cloud. 
 
 " It is a boiv, gentlemen, with which the roaring thunder 
 being appeased, the heavenly Orpheus, in order insensibly 
 to enchant the whole creation, already become immov- 
 able by his divine harmony, plays upon the violin of this 
 universe, which has as many strings as it has elements — 
 for I do set my boiu in the cloud. 
 
 '' Yes, it is a bow in which we see Mars, the eternal god 
 of war, who was just now ready to overwhelm the world 
 with tempest, metamorphosed into a god of love. Yes, it 
 is a bow all gilded with golden rays — a silver dew — a 
 theatre of emeralds, rubies, and diamonds, to increase the 
 riches of this poor beggarly world. Bid yon perceive^ gen- 
 tlemen^ I am speaking of that celestial star, that bow in the 
 cloudy Maiy Magdalen / 
 
 " Bravo ! Mary Magdalen is hke a rainbow, and a rain- 
 bow is like a fiddlestick ! " 
 
lOO Father AndrL 
 
 "A French Capuchin, 
 On the festival of St James, had to pronounce a pane- 
 gyric on that saint. As he was rather late, the attendant 
 priests, who feared that he would make a long ser- 
 mon, and so weary the congregation, entreated him to 
 abridge it. The monk mounted the pulpit, and addressing 
 the people, said : — ^ My brethren, twelve months ago I 
 preached an eulogy on the eminent apostle whose festival 
 you this day celebrate. As I doubt not but that you were 
 all very attentive to me, and as I have not learned that he 
 has done anything new since, I have nothing to add to 
 what I said at that time.' He then pronounced the bless- 
 ing, and descended from the pulpit." 
 
 FATHER ANDRf, 
 
 A popular but somewhat grotesque French preacher of 
 the seventeenth century, being of small stature, was called 
 by his bishop le petit f allot, a word signifying equally a 
 lantern and a jackanapes. Having to preach before the 
 prelate, Andre determined to notice this ; so he took for 
 his text, "Ye are the light of the world." Then address- 
 ing the bishop, he said, " Vous etes, Monseigneur, le grand 
 fallot de I'eglise, et nous sommes que les petits fallots." 
 
 In one of his sermons he compared the four doctors of 
 the Latin Church to the four kings of cards. " St Augus- 
 tine," said he, " is the king of hearts, for his great charity; 
 St Ambrose is the king of clubs {trefle) by the flowers of his 
 eloquence ; St Gregory is the king of diamonds for his 
 strict regularity; and St Jerome is the king of spades 
 {piqtie) for his piquant style." 
 
 The Duke of Orleans once dared Father Andre to em- 
 ploy any ridiculous expressions about him. This, how- 
 
Father Maimhoiirg. loi 
 
 ever, our good father did very adroitly. He addressed 
 him thus : '' Foiii de vous monseignmr, foin de moi^foin de 
 touts ies auditeursr He saved himself by taking for his 
 text the 7th verse of the 40th chapter of Isaiah, where it 
 is said all the people are grass— >//?, in French, signifying 
 hay, and being also an m\.^x]Q,QX\oxi— fie upon ! 
 
 The same Father Andre, preaching before an arch- 
 bishop, perceived him to be asleep during the sermon, 
 and hit on the following ingenious method of awakening 
 him. Turning to the beadle of the church, he said, in a 
 loud voice, " Shut the door, the shepherd is asleep, and 
 the sheep are going out to whom I am announcing the 
 Word of God." This sally caused a stir among the audi- 
 ence, and so awoke the archbishop. 
 
 FATHER MAIMBOURG, 
 
 A well-known Jesuit of the seventeenth century, once 
 preached a sermon on Dogs. It is found in the preface 
 to the Mons translation of the New Testament. 
 
 " It was the Sunday after Easter, (upon which Maim- 
 bourg preached,) when the gospel about the good shepherd 
 was read. From hence he took occasion to magnify the 
 condition of shepherds, by observing that it was not for- 
 merly the profession of the meanest people, as it is at 
 present, but that kings and princes did not think it un- 
 worthy of them. After this he reckoned up a great num- 
 ber of princes that were shepherds j and then he forgot 
 not the patriarchs, but carried down the catalogue as far 
 as David, upon whom he insisted a long time; for he 
 gave us a correct idea of his beauty, the colour of his 
 hair, his clothes, and lastly, his dog. It was, says he, a 
 brave dog, and had so much courage, that we may believe 
 
102 Father Maiinhoiirg. 
 
 thafj while his master fought against Goliath, this dog, to 
 avoid the disgrace of doing nothing in the meantime, hunted 
 after the tvolves and fought them. After the good father 
 was once entered on the subject of dogs, as if he had 
 been hnked to it by some secret sympathy, he could not 
 tell how to leave it, and therefore he divided his sermon 
 into four parts, according to the four several sorts of dogs. 
 The first sort were English dogs ; the second were mastiff 
 dogs J the third were the lap-dogs j and the fourth were 
 the good dogs ; whereof he made an application to difter- 
 ent sorts of preachers. The English were the Jansenists, 
 or, as they were then called, the Arnauldists, whom he 
 represented as an indiscreet people, who tore in pieces all 
 men indifferently, and made no distinction between the 
 innocent and the guilty, but oppressed everybody with 
 hard penances. He described the mastiff dogs as being 
 cowardly, having no courage but upon their own dunghill, 
 and who, being beat off from that, were always fearful, 
 which he applied to preachers of that humour. The lap- 
 dogs were, according to him, the abbots of the court : 
 they are, said he, shaped like lions, and make a great 
 noise ; but when they are viewed narrowly, their noise is 
 laughed at. And upon this occasion he described their 
 ruffles, their bands, their surplices, and their gestures ; and 
 lastly, the good dogs were the Jesuits ;" ergo, this sermon 
 came, upon his own showing, from the mouth of a Jesuiti- 
 cal dog. 
 
 Being once requested to announce a collection in behalf 
 of a young lady to enable her to take the veil, he said, 
 before the commencement of his sermon : — " My beloved 
 brethren, I commend to your charity a young gentle- 
 woman, who has not enough to enable her to make a vow 
 of poverty." 
 
Revocatio7i of the Edict of Nantes. 103 
 
 Preaching during the whole of Lent, in a town where 
 he was not once invited to partake of a morsel of dinner, 
 he said, in his farewell sermon, " I have preached against 
 every vice, except that of too much attachment to the 
 pleasures of the table. This vice is by no means prevalent 
 in a single person whom I address, and therefore I need 
 not denounce it." 
 
 Revocation of the Edict of Naiites. 
 When it became evident that the bigoted king of 
 France, the tool of that favourite instrument of Jesuit 
 intrigue and intolerance, an impure woman, had deter- 
 mined to revoke the Edict of Nantes, the ministers of the 
 church of Charenton kept many days of solemn fasting 
 and prayer. On one of these occasions^ when they had 
 been engaged for many hours in exercises of devotion, an 
 eminent minister ascended the pulpit, and with great 
 emotion, set before the people the danger of the ark ot 
 God. His heart was so full, that he could not go on ; 
 sobs choked his utterance. Floods of tears were shed, 
 and a loud and universal wail arose from the thronged 
 assembly. After a considerable pause, he resumed his 
 discourse, but was again interrupted by excess of sorrow ; 
 upon which he turned his argument into prayer, and with 
 great fervour interceded for the mercy of the Lord, acknow- 
 ledging the Divine justice in whatever fate should fall 
 upon the people. Then, by a solemn act of resignation, 
 he laid themselves and all their privileges at the feet of 
 the Saviour, praying vehemently, that if the Lord saw it 
 would be for His honour and glory that the bodies of that 
 generation should fall in the wilderness, He would revive 
 His strange work in the next. To this petition the Q©n- 
 
104 A Ser 7)1071 -foj' Ca7'di7ia!s. 
 
 gregation announced their assent by a loud and fervent 
 Amen. 
 
 A Se7'77i07i for Cardi7ials. 
 
 Whiston relates that an Italian friar, famous for his 
 learning and eloquence, was commanded to preach before 
 the Pope at the year of jubilee. In order that his dis- 
 course might be pungent and applicable to his distinguished 
 audience, he repaired to Rome a good while beforehand, 
 that he might study the fashions and manners of the con- 
 clave, and possibly expose their libertinism and vice. 
 The effect of his coming to the so-called capital of Western 
 Christendom was precisely the same as that which led 
 Martin Luther to denounce the court of the Vatican. 
 When the day on which he was to preach arrived, he 
 ascended the pulpit, and after praying with much fervour, 
 he looked around for some time in silence, and then cried 
 out three times, with a loud and sorrowful voice, " Saint 
 Peter was a fool ! Saint Peter was a fool ! Saint 
 Peter was a fool ! " Then, without adding a word more, 
 he quickly came down from his elevation and left the 
 church. Being summoned before the Pope, and asked 
 why he had behaved so strangely, he said, with deep mo- 
 desty, but terrible force : " Surely, holy Father, if cardi- 
 nals may go to heaven abounding in wealth, honour, and 
 preferment, — living at ease, if not impurely, — seldom, if 
 ever, preaching or administering Christ's holy sacraments, 
 — then, surely, Saint Peter was a fool, who took such a 
 hard and troublesome method of arriving thither, fasting 
 often, travelUng always, always praying, and always preach- 
 ing!" 
 
 Italia7i P7'eachi7ig, 
 
 In a country where there is so much preaching as in 
 
Jtalian Preaching. 105 
 
 Italy, and where almost all preaching is exfe??tpore, or at 
 least memoriter^ there must necessarily be many bad 
 preachers, but there are scarcely any drawlers ; there is 
 nonsense enough^ but not that lifeless, dull, monotony of 
 topic, style, and voice, which so often sets our own con- 
 gregations to sleep. Some preachers, particularly at Naples, 
 are very ridiculous, from the vehemence of their gesticula- 
 tions ; and there is always a crucifix in the pulpit, which 
 often leads to the introduction of a dramatic style. There 
 is a practice too, common to all, which at first is apt to 
 excite a smile. The preacher pronounces the sacred name 
 without any particular observance, but as often as he has 
 occasion to mention la sajitissima Madonna, he whips oft 
 his little skull-cap, with an air, that has as much the ap- 
 pearance of politeness as of reverence. The Italians are 
 not singular in having made woman a divinity. 
 
 WILLIAM FAREL 
 
 Was one of the first of that bold and intrepid band, who, 
 with their lives in their hands, preached the doctrines of 
 the great Reformation. He was a native of France ; his 
 learning and knowledge were considerable j his piety was 
 ardent, his moral conduct unimpeachable. He possessed 
 a powerful voice and a wonderful fluency. Thus he was 
 peculiarly qualified to be a public disputant and popular 
 pulpit orator. In these characters his labours produced 
 astonishing effects, and entitled him to the honour of 
 being one of the most successful instruments, as well as 
 one of the first moving spirits, in establishing and pro- 
 moting the Reformation. 
 
 Farel, like most energetic men, was violent and over- 
 bearing in temper. This weakness often betrayed itself 
 
io6 William Farel—JoJin Calvin. 
 
 in his writings, as well as in the pulpit. CEcolampadius, 
 however, succeeded in moderating his spirit by friendly 
 remonstrance. ^' Men," said he, in one of his letters to 
 Farel, " may be led, but will not be driven by force. 
 Give me leave, as a friend, and as a brother to a brother, 
 to say, you do not seem, in every respect, to remember 
 your duty. You were sent to preach, and not to rail. I 
 excuse, nay, I commend your zeal, so that it be not with- 
 out meekness. Endeavour, my brother, that this advice 
 may have its desired effect, and I shall have reason to re- 
 joice that I gave it. Pour on wine and oil in due season, 
 and demean yourself as an evangelist and not as a tyran- 
 nical legislator." 
 
 When Farel undertook the reformation of Montbiliard, 
 he discovered much intemperate warmth in the bitter ex- 
 pressions which, in the pulpit, he applied to the priesthood 
 of the Church of Rome. On one occasion he publicly 
 stopped a procession, and wresting from the hands of a 
 priest the image of St Anthony, he threw it from the 
 bridge into the river — an act which was a gross breach of 
 decorum and toleration ; and had not the people been 
 panic-struck by its strange boldness, the labours and hfe 
 of Farel might have come, on the spot, to an untimely, 
 if not an ignominious end. 
 
 JOHN CALVIN 
 
 Was born at Nyon in Picardy in 1509, and died at 
 Geneva in 1564. He was only twenty-six years of age 
 when he composed his celebrated Institution Chretienne, 
 Notwithstanding the incorrectness of some of his sen- 
 tences, when criticised in the light of modern French 
 rhetoric, he has been called one of the fathers of French 
 
John Lasse?iuis. 107 
 
 idiom. His life and writings are well known ; but it is 
 not generally known that he left upwards of 2500 printed 
 and manuscript sermons. 
 
 JOHN LASSENIUS, 
 
 The chaplain to the Danish court, who died at Copen- 
 hagen in 1692, having for a long time perceived, to his 
 vexation, that during his sermon the greatest part of his 
 congregation fell asleep, suddenly stopped, pulled a shuttle- 
 cock out of his pocket, and began to play with it in the 
 pulpit. A circumstance so extraordinary naturally attracted 
 the attention of that part of the congregation who were 
 still awake. They jogged those who were sleeping, and 
 in a short time everybody was lively, and looking to the 
 pulpit with the greatest astonishment. This was just what 
 Lassenius wished ; for he immediately began a most severe 
 castigatory discourse, saying, " When I announce to you 
 sacred and important truths, you are not ashamed to go to 
 sleep ; but when I play the fool, you are all eye and ear ! " 
 
 A curious habit is recorded of Lassenius. He used to 
 stop in the middle of his sermon and take a glass of wine 
 or other cordial. This practice is being revived by some 
 Nonconformist ministers in London, who have a tumbler 
 of water by their side in the pulpit. An old minister says, 
 that this is owing to the excessive dryness which charac- 
 terises them in preaching. 
 
 The intolerable prolixity of many seventeenth century 
 sermons may be partly attributable to the fact that the 
 writers, or preachers, entered upon an exhaustive exposi- 
 tion of the terms before they began to consider the main 
 subject of their text. Sometimes they would go off upon 
 some suggestive word into an infinite variety of allegory 
 
io8 Prolixity of Srornteeiith Century Sermotts. 
 
 and parable. Then they introduced quotations from all 
 sorts of Greek and Latin profane authors. Others made 
 use of ridicule and buffoonish banter. Sometimes they sat 
 down to pause and rest themselves, to clear their throats, 
 and to adjust their disordered gowns and cassocks. Some 
 took a drop of cordial. Some prolonged the time by 
 trifling historical statements, something like that of Urban 
 Chevreau, the French critic, elsewhere mentioned, who 
 gravely informed the readers of his " History of the 
 World," that " it was created the 6th of September, on 
 a Friday, a little after four o'clock in the afternoon." 
 
 Bishop Burnet, in the " History of his Own Times," 
 mentions a Dr Case who wrote a book with this title, 
 " The Angelical Guide ; shewing Men and Women their 
 Lot and Chance in this Elementary Life." The work is 
 very astrological and very profound ; for instance, the 
 author states that " Adam was created in that pleasant 
 place called Paradise, about the year before Christ 4002 
 — viz., on April the 24th, at twelve o'clock at midnight." 
 
 MICHAEL LE FAUCHEUR, 
 
 A French Huguenot minister, in the seventeenth century, 
 excelled so greatly as a preacher, that he was invited to 
 remove from Montpeher to Charenton, where he was 
 much followed and admired. His discourses contained a 
 happy mixture of solidity and pathos, and were recom- 
 mended by the charms of an animated and eloquent deli- 
 very. He once preached with such energy and weight of 
 reasoning against duelling, that the Marquis de la Force, 
 who was one of his audience, declared in the presence of 
 several military men, that if a challenge were sent to him 
 he would not accept of it. 
 
La Rue — Father Bridaine. 109 
 
 LA RUE, 
 
 When destined for the pulpit, took lessons in declamation 
 from the celebrated actor. Baron, with whom he was well 
 acquainted. He soon became the favourite preacher at 
 court and throughout the capital. Voltaire says that he 
 had two sermons, entitled, " The Sinner Dying," and 
 " The Sinner Dead," which were so popular, that public 
 notice was given by bills when they were to be preached. 
 It was thought extraordinary that one who so much ex- 
 celled in declamation should read his discourses, instead 
 of repeating them from memory ; but he contended that 
 not only time was saved by the indulgence, but that the 
 preacher, at ease with his notes before him, could deliver 
 a discourse with greater animation. 
 
 FATHER BRIDAINE. 
 
 A French itinerant preacher of the last century, who, in 
 a mixture of eccentricity and fervid eloquence, combined 
 the two most powerful agencies by which a vulgar auditory 
 are attracted and moved, once wound up a discourse by 
 the announcement that he would attend each of his hearers 
 to his home ; and putting himself at their head, conducted 
 them to the house appointed for all living — a neighbouring 
 churchyard. 
 
 M. SANTEUL, 
 
 A celebrated French author of the seventeenth century, 
 coming into company after having attended a very dull 
 
 discourse, delivered by the Abbe C , observed to his 
 
 friends, that the abbe had done better the year before. 
 "He did not preach then," replied one of the persons 
 present. " That is the very thing I mean," replied M, 
 Santeul. 
 
I TO Father Chatenier — -Jeafi Claude. 
 
 FATHER CHATENIER, THE DOMINICAN, 
 
 Who preached at Paris in the year 1715-1717, felt much 
 incensed, on one occasion, on account of the behaviour of 
 some impudent youths, who attended his sermons only 
 to laugh. After some severe remarks on the indecency 
 of such conduct, he exclaimed, " After your death, whither 
 do you think that you will go ? To the ball ? To the 
 opera ? To the assembly where beautiful women are 
 found ? No ! to the fire ! to the fire ! " These last 
 words he pronounced in a voice so strong and terrible, 
 that he thoroughly alarmed his hearers. Many of them 
 instantly quitted their seats and rushed from the assembly, 
 as if the flames were actually in the church, and the place 
 of their sin were to be immediately the scene of their 
 punishment. 
 
 JEAN CLAUDE, 
 
 The celebrated French Protestant preacher, (born 16 19,) 
 though elegant and impressive, had not a pleasing voice. 
 Hence Moris wittily observed, that '' all voices were for 
 him except his own." The last sermon which Claude 
 preached was at the Hague, on Christmas Day, 1686, 
 before the Princess of Orange, who is said to have been 
 deeply affected. A 'few days after he was seized with 
 fatal illness, and expired on the thirteenth of January, 
 1687, 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE GREAT FRENCH PREACHERS OF THE SEVENTEENTH 
 AND EIGHTEENTH CENTURIES. 
 
 ESPRIT FLECHIER 
 
 AS born in 1632 at Pernes, near Carpentras, 
 Vaucluse. Pie acquired a high reputation in 
 France for his sermons, especially his funeral 
 orations. In 1685 he was made Bishop of 
 Nismes by Lewis XIV. ; who, however, consented re- 
 luctantly to part with one to whose discourses he always 
 listened with delight, and, let us hope, with edification. 
 Flechier is remarkable for the purity of his language, 
 and the elegance of his style. Every sentence closes 
 with a musical cadence. He has been called the Iso- 
 crates of France. He was not, however, merely an 
 adroit stringer together of sweet words ; his ideas are 
 often grand and lofty. Always meUifluous, he is often 
 piercing and animated. He died at Montpellier in 1710. 
 The following passage may be quoted as a fair specimen 
 of his language : — 
 
II 2 Esprit Flechier. 
 
 Exordium of the Funeral Oration on Marshal 
 Turen?ie, 
 
 " I cannot, sirs, give you a loftier idea of the sorrowful 
 subject which I am about to discuss, than by recalling the 
 noble and expressive terms in which the Holy Bible praises 
 the life and deplores the death of Maccabseus ; that hero, 
 who carried the fame of his nation to the very ends of the 
 earth ; who covered his camp with his buckler, and forced 
 that of his enemies with his sword ; who inflicted on the 
 kings opposed to him mortal pains ; who, by his virtues 
 and exploits, caused Jacob to rejoice, and whose glory is 
 eternal. 
 
 "This man, who defended the cities of Judah, who 
 tamed the pride of the children of Ammon and Esau ; 
 who came back from Samaria, loaded with spoil; after 
 having burnt on their own altars the idols of the heathen ; 
 — this man, whom God had placed around Israel like a 
 wall of brass, against which all the forces of Asia battered 
 in vain ; and who, after having defeated numerous armies, 
 disconcerted the boldest and most able generals of the 
 kings of Syria, came every year, with the poor remnant of 
 the Israelites, to repair with his triumphant hands the 
 ruins of the sanctuary; and did not require any other 
 recompense for the services which he rendered to his 
 country than the honour of having served her; — this 
 valiant man, pushing back with invincible bravery the 
 enemies whom he had put to disgraceful flight, received a 
 mortal stroke, and rested as though buried in the very 
 moment of triumph. 
 
 " At the first noise of this sad event, all the cities of 
 Judah were moved. Fountains of tears flowed from the 
 
Esprit Flcchier. 113 
 
 eyes of all the people. For a time they were stunned, 
 dumb, immovable. A burst of grief at length broke the 
 long, sad silence. With voices interrupted by sobs, which 
 sorrow, pity, fear, combined to form in their hearts, they 
 cried out, ' How is that puissant hero dead, who saved the 
 people of Israel ! ' At this cry Jerusalem redoubled its 
 lamentation. The vault of the temple shook. Jordan was 
 troubled, and all its streams flowed backward at the sound 
 of these woeful words, ' How is the puissant hero dead 
 who saved the people of Israel ! ' " 
 
 Take also the following : — 
 
 *' The world has nothing solid, nothing durable : it is 
 only a fashion, and a fashion which passeth away. Yes, 
 sirs, the tQr\derest frie?ids/iips end. Honou?'s are specious 
 titles, which time effaces. Pleasures are amusements, which 
 leave only a lasting and painful repentance. Riches are 
 torn from us by the violence of men, or escape us by 
 their own instability. Grandeurs moulder away of them- 
 selves. Glory and reputation at length lose themselves in 
 the abysses of an eternal oblivion. So rolls the torrent of 
 this world, whatever pains are taken to stop it. Every- 
 thing is carried away by a rapid train of passing moments, 
 and by continual revolutions we arrive, frequently without 
 thinking of it, at that fatal point where time finishes and 
 eternity begins. 
 
 " Happy then the Christian soul who, obeying the pre- 
 cept of Jesus Christ, loves not the world, nor anything 
 that composes it ; who wisely uses it as a mean, without 
 irregularly cleaving to it as his end ; who knows how to 
 rejoice without dissipation, to sorrow without despair, to 
 desire without anxiety, to acquire without injustice, to 
 possess without pride, and to lose without pain ! Happy 
 
 H 
 
114 Louis Bourdaloue the Jesuit. 
 
 yet farther the soul who, rising above itself in spite of the 
 body which encumbers it, remounts to its origin ;• passes 
 without pausing beyond created things, and happily loses 
 itself in the bosom of its Creator ! " — Flech. Orais. funeb. 
 de Mcuiaffie d* Aiguillon. 
 
 LOUIS BOURDALOUE THE JESUIT 
 
 Was born at Bourges in 1632. As soon as he began to 
 preach in Paris, in 1669, he was followed by an enormous 
 crowd of admirers, including the ablest men of the age. 
 Each discourse which he delivered was more attractive 
 than that which had gone before it j so that Madame de 
 Sevigne said, " Bourdaloue surpasses in every sermon all 
 his most brilliant passages; and no one has XQdlXy preached 
 before this time." On another occasion she remarked, 
 *' The argument was carried out in the highest perfection ; 
 and certain points pressed as they might have been pressed 
 by the Apostle St Paul." The quality which predominates 
 in Bourdaloue is severe logic : it is as hard to prove and 
 reason hke him as it is to touch the conscience and gratify 
 the imagination hke Massillon. The reputation for elo- 
 quence which this celebrated preacher very early acquired, 
 reaching the ears of Lewis XIV., his majesty sent for him 
 to preach the advent sermon in 1670; which he did with 
 such success that he was retained for many years after as 
 a preacher at court. He was called the king of preachers, 
 and the preacher to kings ; and Lewis himself said that he 
 would rather hear the repetitions of Bourdaloue than the 
 novelties of another. With a collected air Bourdaloue 
 had little action ; he kept bis eyes generally half closed, 
 and penetrated the hearts of the people by the sound of 
 
Louis Bourdaloue the Jesuit. 115 
 
 a voice uniform and solemn. On one occasion he turned 
 the peculiarity of his external aspect to very memorable 
 advantage. After depicting in soul-awakening terms a 
 sinner of the first magnitude, he suddenly opened his 
 eyes, and casting them full on the king, who sat opposite 
 to him, he added, in a voice of thunder, " Thou art the 
 man!" The effect was magical, confounding. When he 
 had finished his discourse he immediately went, and throw- 
 ing himself at the feet of his sovereign, " Sire," said he, 
 "behold at your feet one who is the most devoted of your 
 servants; but punish him not that in the pulpit he can 
 own no other master than the King of kings." Some have 
 thought him too terse in his style, and too cold in his 
 ratiocination, for a Christian orator. He died at Paris in 
 1704, the same year as Bossuet, his great rival. The fol- 
 lowing remarks are equally distinguished for truth and 
 originality : — 
 
 Almsgiving. 
 " The times are bad. Every one is suffering. Is it not 
 therefore the dictate of prudence to think of the future, 
 and to save one's money? This is what prudence sug- 
 gests ; a prudence which deserves reproof; a carnal pru- 
 dence, and the enemy of God. That all are suffering 
 and inconvenienced, I admit. Never was pride, never 
 was luxury, greater than it is to-day. Who knows whether 
 it is not for this that God is chastising us 1 God, I say, 
 who, according to the Scripture, holds the poor, proud 
 man in abhorrence! But once more, I want to say it, 
 the times are bad. And what are we to conclude from 
 that? If everybody is suffering, do not the poor suffer? 
 And if the ordinary sufferings of the poor are four/A 
 
Ii6 S/^ecimens of his Style. 
 
 among the rich, to what a depth of distress must the poor 
 themselves be reduced ? To whom does it belong as a 
 duty to assist those who suffer more, so much as to them 
 who suffer less ? Do you, therefore, reason well when you 
 say that you have a right to hold back your superfluity 
 because the times are bad? It is just on that account that 
 you cannot keep it back without heinous sin, and that 
 you lie under a special obligation to give it away." 
 
 Da7igers of the IVor/d. 
 " If I find myself alone and without a guide in a fright- 
 ful desert, exposed to all the risks of wandering without 
 hope of return, I am filled with mortal terror. If in some 
 pressing sickness I feel myself abandoned, having nobody 
 but myself to watch over me, I dare no longer count upon 
 my recovery. If, in a crisis of my affairs, in which not only 
 my fortune, but my very Hfe is involved, I have no other 
 counsellor but myself, I feel myself hopeless and lost, how 
 then in the world, where so many rocks and snares sur- 
 round me, and so many perils threaten me, and so many 
 opportunities occur in which I must perish unless I have 
 other help than myself, can I live in peace, and not be in 
 a state of continual alarm?" 
 
 St Andrew. 
 "There, Christians, there is the preacher whom God 
 has raised up for your instruction. It is St Andrew upon 
 the cross. Pay no longer any attention to my words, or 
 my zeal ; forget the sacredness of my ministry ; it is no 
 longer to me, it is to this apostle that belongs the right to 
 preach to you on the cross of God crucified ; it belongs to 
 this crucified man, whose preaching, far more pathetic and 
 
Jacques Beiiigne Bossiiet. 117 
 
 efficacious than mine, makes itself heard in all the churches 
 of the Christian world. Behold him, this irreproachable 
 minister, this preacher to whom you have not a word to 
 reply : but has he nothing with which to reproach you ? 
 He preaches to you this day the same God which he 
 preached to the Jews and the pagans, a God which has 
 saved you by the cross ; do you beheve him % It has been 
 told you a hundred times, and it is true, that at the judg- 
 ment of God the cross will appear to confront you. But 
 beside the cross of Jesus Christ another will confront you 
 — that of St Andrew. Yes, the cross of this apostolical 
 man, after having served as a pulpit to instruct you, will 
 serve as a tribunal to condemn you. You see these infidels, 
 he will say to us, the sight of my cross converted them : 
 instead of pagans I made them Christians. Behold that 
 which will confound us. Is it not worth while for us now, 
 by a voluntary confusion of soul, to anticipate that which 
 will be forced upon us, and will be not only useless, but 
 destructive % " 
 
 Father H told a French writer one day, that when 
 
 Bourdaloue preached at Rouen, every artisan shut up his 
 shop, the merchants quitted the exchange, the lawyers their 
 courts, and the physicians their patients, and gathered round 
 this celebrated preacher. " When I preached there," says 
 
 Father H , " the year following, I restored everything 
 
 to its proper order. Neither the merchant quitted his 
 business, nor the lawyer his court," &c. 
 
 JACQUES BENIGNE BOSSUET, 
 
 One of the most sublime of the French orators, was born 
 at Dijon, 12th March 1627. He was singularly pre- 
 cocious. At fifteen years of age he was received as a doc- 
 
1 1 8 Jacques Benigiie Bossitet. 
 
 tor of the Sorbonne ; at sixteen he delivered an extempore 
 discourse, which excited enthusiastic admiration. He was 
 a sort of universal genius, a philosopher, historian, and 
 pohtician. While he despised the artifices of rhetoric, he 
 came down upon his hearers with an authority which was 
 irresistible. His words were sometimes like lightning, and 
 filled the coldest hearts with alarm. He died at Paris, 
 1 2 th April 1704. 
 
 The Power of God in Creation. 
 "The God which the Hebrews and Christians have 
 always served has nothing in common with the divinities 
 full of vice and imperfection which the rest of the world 
 adores. Our God is one infinite and perfect; alone worthy 
 to punish crime and to reward virtue ; because He is holi- 
 ness itself He is infinitely above this first cause, this 
 motive power which philosophers have known without 
 worshipping it. Those among them who are the furthest 
 removed from the truth suggest the idea of a God which, 
 finding matter eternal and self-existent as much as Him- 
 self, has fashioned it like a vulgar artist, contracted in his 
 work by the conditions of this very material which he has 
 not made ; without being able to comprehend that if 
 matter is of itself, it does not need to await its perfection 
 at the hand of a stranger ; and if, on the other hand, God 
 is infinite and perfect. He does not require, in order to 
 accomplish anything that He wishes, anything more than 
 Himself and His all-powerful will. But the God of our 
 fathers, the God of Abraham, the God of whom Moses has 
 revealed to us such marvels, has not only set in order the 
 world, but has made it entirely both in matter and form. 
 Before He had given it being, there was nothing but 
 
specimens of his Style. 119 
 
 Himself. He is represented to us as the being who has 
 made everything, and who has made everything by His 
 Word, as much because He has made everything by His 
 reason, as because He has made everything without 
 trouble, and because, to make such great works, nothing 
 more was required of Him than a single word, that is to 
 say. He had only to will and it was done." 
 
 The Frailty of Man. 
 
 " Great God, is this all my substance % I enter into life 
 to go out of it forthwith. Like others, I just show myself, 
 but I must soon disappear. Everything beckons us to 
 death. Nature, as though grudging us the good that she 
 has done us, often gives us to understand that she cannot 
 leave us long the little material she has lent us. The 
 children which are born, as they multiply and grow, elbow 
 us and say, * Retire j it is now our turn !' As we behold 
 others pass away before us, others in like manner will see 
 us depart hence, owing to their successors the same spec- 
 tacle. O God ! once more I ask, what are we ? If I cast 
 my eyes before me, how infinite is the space in which I 
 am not ! If I look back, how frightful is the abyss in 
 which I no longer am ! And how minute a spot do I 
 occupy in this immensity of time ! I am nothing, so small 
 is the interval between me and nothingness. I seem only 
 sent to make up a number. The drama will not be the 
 less played on when I have retired from the scene !" 
 
 The Royalty and Priesthood of Jesus Christ. 
 " It is amidst the pains of death that Jesus Christ shows 
 Himself our King and High Priest. You may have been 
 sometimes offended to see the blood of my Master flow ; 
 
I20 Lewis XIV. and Bossuet. 
 
 you who have believed that His death was the mark of 
 His powerlessness. Ah, how httle do you understand 
 these mysteries ! The cross of my King, it is His throne ; 
 the cross of my High Priest, it is His altar. This lacerated 
 flesh, it is the force and virtue of my King ! This same 
 lacerated flesh is the sacrifice and victim of my High 
 Priest. The blood of my King is His purple. The blood 
 of my High Priest is His consecration. My King is in- 
 stalled, my High Priest is consecrated by His blood. 
 This it is which constitutes Him the true Jesus, the only 
 Saviour of mankind. O King and Saviour, and Sovereign 
 Shepherd of our soul, shed one drop of that precious blood 
 on my heart, that it may be set on fire ; one drop on my 
 lips, that they may be for ever pure and holy, those Hps 
 which ought day by day to pronounce Thy adorable 
 name." 
 
 When Bossuet was still a young preacher, Lewis XIV. 
 was so delighted with him that he wrote in his own name 
 to his father, the Intendant of Soissons, to congratulate 
 him on having a son that would immortaUse himself. An 
 unbeHever going to hear Bossuet preach, said, on enter- 
 ing the church, " This is the preacher for me ; for it is by 
 him alone I know that I shall be converted, if I ever 
 be so." Bossuet pronounced the funeral oration on the 
 Duchess of Orleans, who died so suddenly in the midst 
 of a brilliant court, of which she was the glory and delight. 
 No person better possessed the talent of infusing into the 
 soul of his auditors the profound sentiments with which 
 he himself was penetrated. When he pronounced these 
 words, " O nuit desastreuse, nuit eff'royable, ou retentit 
 tout-a-coup, comme un eclat de tonnere, cette nouvelle : 
 madame se meurt, madame est morte ! " all the court were 
 
Jean Baptiste Massillon. 121 
 
 in tears. The pathetic and the subHme shone equally in 
 this discourse. A sensibiHty more sweet, but less sublime, 
 is displayed in the last words of his funeral oration on the 
 great Conde. It was with this fine discourse that Bossuet 
 terminated his career of eloquence. He concludes by 
 thus apostrophising the hero that France mourned : 
 " Prince vous mettrez fin a tous ces discours ! Au lieu 
 de deplorer la mort de sautres, je veux desormais appren- 
 dre de vous a rendre la mienne sainte ; heureux si, averti 
 par ces cheveux blancs, du compte que je dois rendre de 
 mon administration, je re'serve au tropeau que je dois 
 nourir de la parole de vie le reste d'une voix qui tombe, 
 et d'une ardeur qui s'eteint." 
 
 When Lewis XIV. appointed Bossuet Bishop of Meaux, 
 he was anxious to know how his favourite ecclesiastic's 
 merits were appreciated by the inhabitants of that city. 
 " Tolerably," was the answer to the question. " Toler- 
 ably ?" said the king. " Is that all you have to say con- 
 cerning himT' "In truth," replied the people, "We 
 think he must be an inferior person. We should have 
 preferred a Bishop who had finished his education, but 
 whenever we wait upon our diocesan, we are told that he 
 is at his studies." This anecdote well satirises the pre- 
 tentious women who have the hardihood to tell ignorant 
 fathers and mothers that they are capable of finishing 
 the education of their daughters. 
 
 MASSILLON. 
 
 Jean Baptiste Massillon was born at Hyeres, in Pro- 
 vence, in 1663. While yet a young man he entered the 
 Congregation of the Oratory. His early discourses pro- 
 duced a lively impression. Bourdaloue, when he heard 
 
122 Ci'iticism o?i the style of Massillon. 
 
 him, said, " He must increase, but I must decrease." 
 Massillon is rarely sublime ; his renown as an orator rests 
 on the merit of his style ; his diction is always easy, 
 elegant, and pure, characterised by that noble simplicity 
 without which there is neither good taste nor true elo- 
 quence. He reminds the reader of Cicero, presenting in 
 his writings the same agreement of judgment and imagina- 
 tion. It has been complained of him that he sometimes 
 repeats his ideas in an affluence of words ; but this can 
 hardly be deemed a fault. Common minds require such 
 repetition to understand an argument ; it was the secret 
 of Dr Chalmers' force. At the same time, it is well to 
 warn young preachers that they must not let their words 
 run away with them ; every paragraph ought to be nour- 
 ished by wise and good thoughts. 
 
 When this illustrious man was asked where a man like 
 him, whose life was dedicated to retirement, could borrow 
 his admirable descriptions of real life, he answered, " From 
 the human heart : however little we may examine it, we 
 shall find in it the seeds of every passion. When I com- 
 pose a sermon, I imagine myself consulted upon some 
 doubtful piece of business. I give my whole application 
 to determine the person who has recourse to me, to act 
 the good and proper part. I exhort him, I urge him, ajid 
 J quit him not till he has yielded to 7ny persuasions T 
 
 On preaching the first Advent Sermon at Marseilles, Lewis 
 XIV. paid .the following most expressive tribute to the 
 power of his eloquence : — " Father, when I hear others 
 preach, I am very well pleased with them ; when I hear 
 you, I am dissatisfied with myself" 
 
 Massillon died in 1742. 
 
 The following account of Massillon is extracted from a 
 
The Courage of Massillon. 123 
 
 very able letter on courageous preaching, written by the 
 Paris correspondent of the Times newspaper, 20th August 
 1868:— 
 
 " The first time that Massillon appeared in the pulpit 
 of Versailles was in 1699 ; he was then a simple priest 
 of the Society of Oratorians ; he was then only thirty-six 
 years old, and all his chances of advancement, if he wasted 
 a thought on it, depended on the favour of the sovereign. 
 Lewis XIV. was then in the decline of life, and the splen- 
 dour of his long reign was already darkly clouded. The 
 great writers of his time — Corneille, Moliere, and Racine — 
 had long passed away ; and Boileau was leading the Hfe 
 of a hermit at Auteuil, near Paris. The French army had 
 lost much of its prestige ; and Luxemburg, with all his 
 great qualities as a commander, had not the success of 
 Conde or Turenne. The cold shade of Madame de Main- 
 tenon hung over the court, which was almost exclusively 
 occupied with the squabbles on Quietism and Jansenism. 
 But the pride of the old king was not tamed ; and though 
 the courtiers might in secret long for a change, their master 
 was never more formidable to them, and they never were 
 more abject in their obedience. It was at this moment 
 that Massillon came forth. Hitherto he had been only 
 known as having preached for one Lent in the Church of 
 the Oratory, Rue St Honore. His first sermon in the 
 chapel of Versailles was pronounced in presence of the 
 king and the highest nobles of the land who formed his 
 court. He opened by asking what was the real motive 
 which brought together an assembly so crowded and so 
 brilliant. He says : — 
 
 " ' It is from the desire to please their master, by imitat- 
 ing his respect for the words of the Gospel, and to attract 
 
1 24 The Courage of Massillon. 
 
 his attention rather than to implore the Divine mercy. 
 The eyes of all present in this place are turned towards 
 the prince; the prayers of all are addressed to him; and 
 his profound prostration at the foot of this altar, far from 
 teaching us to respect the Lord, before whom a great 
 King, who has, as it were, the cares of the earth upon 
 Him, bows down His head and forgets all His grandeur, 
 teaches us only to make use of religion for our personal 
 interests, and of the favours with which He honours virtue, 
 or those who assume it, and thus raise ourselves to new 
 dignities and grandeur.' 
 
 " He then turns to the ladies of the court : — 
 
 " ' You women of the world, what good do you seek 
 by displaying all this gorgeous attire — I do not say merely 
 the attire of luxury and vanity, but of immodesty and in- 
 decency, with which you show yourselves in this house, 
 which is a house of tears and of prayer % Do you wish 
 that there should not be a single spot of the earth, not 
 even the temple itself — the refuge of religion and of piety — 
 where innocence can be protected from your profane and 
 wanton display?' 
 
 " His picture of the world — that is, of the high society 
 of the time — is not less striking : — 
 
 " ' The world is a perpetual servitude, in which no one 
 lives for himself^ and in which to be happy he must kiss 
 his chains and love his slavery. The world is the daily 
 revolution of events, which awake by turns in the hearts 
 of its worshippers the most violent and the saddest pas- 
 sions, the most unrelenting hatreds, odious perplexities, 
 bitter fears, consuming jealousies, crushing sorrows. The 
 world is a land of malediction, where pleasure itself brings 
 with it its thorns and its bitterness. Play wearies by its 
 
The PrcacJiing of Massillon, 125 
 
 fury and its caprices ; conversation tires by the conflict of 
 humour and of sentiment; passion and criminal attach- 
 ments are inseparable from disgust. The world, in a 
 word, is a place where hope itself — which is regarded as a 
 passion so gentle — makes all men unhappy ; where those 
 who hope for nothing are still more miserable ; where all 
 that pleases does not please long ; and where weariness is 
 almost the mildest destiny and the most supportable that 
 most captivating aspect ; it is the world of this court ; it 
 is not the humble and obscure world, which knows neither 
 great pleasure nor the charms of prosj^erity, nor favour, 
 nor opulence ; it is the world in its most brilliant and 
 we can expect. Such is the world, my brethren ; and it 
 is you yQurselves, you who are at this moment listening 
 to me ! ' 
 
 " The following passage, suggested by recent disasters 
 abroad, and surpassing misery at home, strikes at the 
 king himself, his courtiers, and the whole nation, with a 
 boldness and majesty truly wonderful, w^hen we reflect 
 before whom it was spoken : — 
 
 " '■ I have already said it. The anger of God visits us 
 for our crimes, and the enormity of them ascends even to 
 the throne of His vengeance. He has looked down from 
 His eternal abode, says the prophet— /r^j^^jc// de excelso 
 sando suo — and He has seen the abominations which are 
 in the midst of us : the faithful without morals, the great 
 without religion, whose ministers themselves are without 
 piety. He has looked down from heaven, and He has 
 seen these abominations honoured by His people ; rapine 
 and injustice rewarded with titles and public dignities; 
 debauchery and the m.ost frightful excesses authorised by 
 the highest examples; monstrous and insane luxury in- 
 
126 His Boldness and Fidelity. 
 
 creasing with the pubhc misery. Prospexit de excelso sancto 
 siio. He has looked down from heaven and beheld a 
 pious sovereign encircled by a dissolute court ; this cour- 
 tier now among us, ever the servile imitator of his master, 
 becoming here his secret censor ; piety on the throne be- 
 come more hateful; crimes multiplied by restraint; the 
 perils of debauchery the stimulus to its excesses ; ambition 
 under the mask of piety obtaining the largesses of the 
 sovereign ; hypocrisy enriched with benefits that should 
 recompense virtue ; and religion more dishonoured by the 
 vices and the artifices of the false just than by the Hcen- 
 tiousness of the avowed sinners. And then He has poured 
 upon us the vials of His wrath. He has given up to the 
 sword of our enemies our children, our husbands, our 
 brothers, and our friends. He has breathed upon our 
 armies a spirit of terror and panic, and He has baffled all 
 our projects.' 
 
 " The king himself was not spared ; nor his vanity, his 
 sorrows, or his faults left untouched. Massillon did not, 
 however, fail in respect to the sovereign ; and the deli- 
 cately-turned compliment which he addressed to Lewis 
 XIV. in his first sermon at Versailles was followed by a 
 murmur of approbation. But he sacrificed nothing to the 
 desire of pleasing; and to the very last he proclaimed the 
 truth without fearing or caring for disgrace. He so little 
 feared disgrace that, in the presence of majesty, in his 
 third sermon, he compared the king to David, ' the violator 
 of the sanctity of the marriage tie.' Without hesitation 
 or embarrassment he reminded Lewis of RamilHes and 
 Malplaquet : — 
 
 " * Battles lost, even when victory seemed most certain ; 
 towns believed to be impregnable falling before our 
 
The Eloquence of Massillon. 127 
 
 enemies ; states and provinces wrested from us ; the most 
 flourishing kingdom of Europe visited by all the calami- 
 ties that God can pour out upon nations in His anger ; 
 the court clothed in mourning, and the whole of the royal 
 race all but extinct, — such, sire, is what the Lord in His 
 mercy has reserved to try your piety.' 
 
 " These sermons give us an idea of the liberty and in- 
 dependence which, even under the despotic rule of Lewis, 
 before whom the proudest humbled themselves, the pulpit 
 of the royal chapel of Versailles enjoyed. Its preachers 
 proclaimed what they believed to be the truth ; and the 
 king Hstened to sermons which were not mere hohday 
 discourses, meant to procure him a pleasing distraction, 
 and were still less insipid adulations to the courtiers." 
 
 The following passage is taken from his celebrated 
 sermon on the small number of the elect, which occa- 
 sioned many of the audience to rise from their seats, 
 struck with an instant terror lest they should not be of 
 the number : — 
 
 " If you know to what obligations the title of Christian, 
 which you bear, binds you ; if you understand the holiness 
 of your state — how much it prescribes to you a faithful life, 
 a continual vigilance, precautions against the temptations 
 of sensual gratification ; in a word, conformity to Jesus 
 Christ crucified , if you would comprehend it ; if you 
 would consider, that before loving God with all your heart, 
 and all your strength, a single desire which does not relate 
 to Him would defile you ; if you could comprehend this, 
 you would find yourself a monster before His eyes. What 
 would you say of obligations so holy, and manners so pro- 
 fane ; a vigilance so continual, and a life so careless and 
 dissipated % A love of God so pure, so full, so universal, 
 
128 On the Si nail Numher of the Elect, 
 
 and a heart always a prey to a thousand affections, either 
 strange or criminal % If it be thus, O my God, who then 
 can be saved % Few people, my dear audience ; it will 
 not be you, unless you are changed ! It will not be those 
 who resemble you ! It will not be the multitude ! 
 
 " Who then can be saved % Do you wish to know % It 
 will be those who work out their salvation with fear ; who 
 live amidst the world, but who live not as the world. 
 
 " Who can be saved % That Christian woman w^ho, 
 confined to the circle of her domestic affairs, educates her 
 children in faith and piety, leaving to the Almighty the 
 decision of their destiny ; who is adorned with chastity 
 and modesty \ who does not sit in the assembly of the 
 vain ; who does not make for herself a law of the foolish 
 customs of the world, but corrects those customs by the 
 law of God, and gives credit to virtue by her rank and 
 example. 
 
 " Who can be saved % That faithful man who, in these 
 degenerate days, imitates the manners of the primitive 
 Christians, whose hands are innocent and body pure ; that 
 watchful man, who has not received his soul in vain, but 
 who, even amidst the dangers of high life, continually ap- 
 plies himself to purify it ; that just man, who does not 
 use deception towards his neighbour, and who owes not to 
 doubtful means the innocent increase of his fortune j that 
 generous man, who loads with benefits the enemy who 
 wishes to destroy him, and injures not his rivals, except 
 by superior merit ; that sincere man, who does not sacri- 
 fice truth to a contemptible interest, and who knows not 
 how to please in betraying his conscience ; that charitable 
 man, who makes of his house and credit the asylum of his 
 brethren, and of his person the consolation of the afflicted j 
 
0}i {he Small Number of the Elect. 129 
 
 that man who uses his wealth for the benefit of the poor, 
 who is submissive in afflictions, a Christian in injuries, 
 penitent even in prosperity. 
 
 " Who can be saved % You, my dear hearers, if you 
 will follow these examples. Behold, these are the people 
 who will be saved ; but these certainly do not constitute 
 the greatest number. 
 
 " There is perhaps no person here, who cannot say to 
 himself, ' I live as the majority, as those of my rank, of my 
 age, and of my condition. I am lost if I die in this state ! 
 But what is more calculated to frighten a soul, to whom 
 there remains something to be done for its salvation % 
 Nevertheless, it is the multitude who tremble not. Only 
 a small number of pious persons work out their salvation 
 with fear ; all the rest are calm. One knows, in general, 
 that the majority of mankind are lost ; but he flatters him- 
 self that, after having lived with the multitude, he will be 
 distinguished from them in death. Each one puts himself 
 in the case of chimerical exception, — each augurs favourably 
 for himself; and it is on this account I address myself to 
 you, my brethren, who are here assembled. I speak no 
 more of the rest of men ; I regard you as if you alone 
 were upon the earth ; and behold the thoughts which 
 occupy and terrify me ! I suppose that this is your last 
 moment, and the end of the universe ; that the heavens 
 are going to open over your heads, Jesus Christ to appear 
 in His glory in the middle of this temple j and that you are 
 assembled here only to expect Him, and as trembling crimi- 
 nals, on whom He is going to pronounce a sentence of par- 
 don, or a decree of eternal death : because it is in vain for 
 you to flatter yourselves that you shall die better than you 
 are at this time. All those designs which amuse you now, 
 
 I 
 
130 On the Small Ntmiher of the Elect. 
 
 will amuse you even to the bed of death ; it is the expe- 
 rience of all ages : everything that you will then find new 
 in yourselves, will be perhaps an account a little greater 
 than that which you would have to render on this day ; 
 and from what you would be, if He should come to judge 
 you in the present moment, you can almost with certainty 
 decide what you will be at departing from this life. But I 
 demand of you, and I demand it of you struck with horror, 
 not separating in this point my lot from yours, and putting 
 myself in the same state in which I wish that I should be ; 
 I ask you, then, if Jesus Christ should appear in this temple, 
 in the midst of this assembly, the most august in the world, 
 for the purpose of judging us, in order to make the just 
 discrimination between the good and the bad, do you be- 
 heve that the majority of us who are here assembled would 
 be placed on the right % Do you believe that the num- 
 ber would be equal ? Do you believe that He would 
 find here ten pious men, which the Almighty could not 
 formerly find in five populous cities ? I demand it of you. 
 You are ignorant of it ; and I am ignorant of it myself. 
 Thou alone, O my God, knowest those who belong to Thee ! 
 But if we know not those who belong to Him, we know at 
 least that sinners do not belong to Him. But who are the 
 faithful ones here assembled % Titles and dignities ought 
 to be counted as nothing ; you will be deprived of them 
 before Jesus Christ. Whoarediey? Many sinners who do not 
 wish to be converted ; still more who wish it, but who de- 
 fer their conversion ; many others who are converted, only 
 to fall again into sin. In fine, a great number who believe 
 they have no need of conversion ; these are the reprobate. 
 Withdraw these four sorts of sinners from this holyassembly, 
 for they will be withdrawn from it on that great day. 
 
FatJicr Gonthier^ the Jesuit 131 
 
 " Appear now, ye just ; where are you ? Remains of 
 Israel, pass to the right. Wheat of Jesus Christ, separate 
 from this straw destined to the fire. O God ! where are 
 Thy elect?" 
 
 FATHER GONTHIER, THE JESUIT. 
 
 One of the most remarkable instances of courageous 
 preaching is recorded concerning this Jesuit. He was 
 preaching at Saint Gervais, in Paris, before King Henry 
 IV. Mademoiselle d'Entragues, one of his many mis- 
 tresses, was present, and tried to make the king laugh. 
 The preacher paused, and suddenly addressing Henry 
 with righteous indignation, exclaimed, " Sire, I trust that 
 you will never allow yourself any more to come to hear 
 the word of God surrounded by a seraglio, nor to offer so 
 awful a scandal in the house of the Lord." Notwithstand- 
 ing his prominent vices, Henry IV. was always just, 
 sensible, and tolerant. The Marchioness of Verneuil, by 
 which title the young lady was distinguished, tried every 
 art to procure the punishment of Gonthier. Henry only 
 smiled at her fury, and came the day following again to 
 hear the brave Jesuit preach. The monarch took the 
 opportunity, however, of w^hispering in his ear, " Reverend 
 Father, do not be frightened. I thank you for your re- 
 proof, only, for Heaven's sake, don't give it again in 
 public." 
 
 JULIUS MASCARON 
 
 Was born at Marseilles in 1634, and died Bishop of Agen 
 in 1703. When he preached before the French court in 
 1666 and 1667, some envious persons would have made 
 a crime of the boldness and freedom with which he pro- 
 claimed the gospel to King Lewis XIV. His Majesty 
 
13 2 Saw'ln, the Huguenot. 
 
 rebuked the detractors, saying, " Gentlemen, he has done 
 his duty ; let us do ours." Preaching again before that 
 monarch, twenty years afterwards, Lewis was so much 
 pleased that he paid him this elegant compliment : " Your 
 eloquence alone neither wears out nor grows old." The 
 name of Mascaron is now forgotten. His writings are 
 buried in the dust of oblivion. Yet there was a time when 
 all France was filled with his praises, and his funeral ora- 
 tions were considered models of eloquence. 
 
 SAURIN, THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 The celebrated Saurin, when one of the pastors to the 
 French Refugees at the Hague, was constantly attended 
 in his public ministrations by a crowded and brilHant audi- 
 ence. His style was pure, unaffected, and eloquent; some- 
 times enriched with flowery metaphor, sometimes simple ; 
 never turgid or bombastic. " In the introduction to his 
 sermons," says Mr Robinson, who translated them, " he 
 used to deliver himself in a tone modest and low. In the 
 body of the sermon, which was adapted to the understand- 
 ing, he was plain, clear, and argumentative, pausing at 
 the close of each period that he might discover by the 
 countenances and motion of his hearers whether they 
 were convinced by his reasoning. In his addresses to the 
 wicked (and it is a folly to preach as if there were 
 none in our assembhes) M. Saurin was often sonorous, 
 but oftener a weeping suppliant at their feet. In the one 
 he sustained the authoritative dignity of his office; in the 
 other he expressed his Master's and his own benevolence 
 to bad men, ' praying them, in Christ's stead, to be recon- 
 ciled to God.' In general his preaching resembled a 
 plentiful shower of dew, softly and imperceptibly insinuat- 
 
Peter dii Bosc. 133 
 
 ing itself into the minds of his numerous hearers, as the 
 dew into the pores of plants, till all the church was dis- 
 solved, and all in tears under his sermons." He was some- 
 times called the Huguenot Bossuet. He was born in 
 1677, and died in 1730. 
 
 The first time that Abbadie, the celebrated Calvinist 
 minister, heard M. Saurin preach, he exclaimed, " Is it an 
 angel or a man that speaks?" 
 
 Of another Huguenot minister it was archly said : He 
 has two wonderful attributes— he is invisible all the week, 
 that he may be incomprehensible on Sundays. 
 
 PETER DU BOSC 
 
 Was esteemed the greatest preacher of his time among the 
 French Protestants. He became so famous that a depu- 
 tation was sent from Paris to Caen, the place of his minis- 
 try, to invite him to accept of the church at Charenton ; but 
 though the application was supported by all the influence 
 of the most eminent Huguenots, nothing could induce 
 Du Bosc to leave his flock at Caen, to whom he had be- 
 come much endeared. Some years after, in consequence 
 of having denounced auricular confession in the pulpit, an 
 order was procured for his banishment to Chalons. As he 
 passed through Paris, on his way to that place, he made 
 such an adroit explanation of his offence to Monsieur le 
 TreUier, as, after the lapse of some months, led to the 
 recall of the sentence against him. The joy which his 
 return gave to the people of Caen knew no bounds. Even 
 those of opposite opinions concurred in congratulating 
 him ; among others, a cynical Roman Catholic gentleman 
 of distinction, who was pleased to celebrate the event 
 in the following extraordinary manner. Du Bosc's bio- 
 
134 Pascal. 
 
 grapher says of this person : '' His life was not very regular, 
 but he made an open profession of loving those pastors 
 who were endowed with brilliant talents. He was par- 
 ticularly enamoured with the merit of M. Du Bosc. He 
 determined to solemnise the occasion with a feast. He 
 took two Cordeliers, whom he knew to be of a convivial 
 turn, and made them drink so much wine that one of 
 them died on the spot. He visited Mons. Du Bosc the 
 next day, and told him that he thought himself obliged 
 to sacrifice a monk to the public joy ; that the oblation 
 would have been a Jesuit if he could have procured one, 
 but he hoped Du Bosc would not be displeased though it 
 was but a CordeHer." 
 
 PASCAL. 
 
 The following eloquent tribute to the great French 
 logician is extracted from the memoirs of Dr Chalmers 
 by his son-in-law the Reverend William Hanna : — 
 
 " My confinement (during sickness) has fixed on my 
 heart a very strong impression of the insignificance of 
 time — an impression which I trust will not abandon me, 
 though I again reach the heyday of health and vigour. 
 This should be the first step to another impression still 
 more salutary — the magnitude of eternity. Strip human 
 life of its connexion with a higher scene of existence, and 
 it is the illusion of an instant — an unmeaning farce — a 
 series of visions, and projects, and convulsive efforts, 
 which terminate in nothing. I have been reading Pas- 
 cal's " Thoughts on Religion." You know his history — a 
 man of the richest endowments, and whose youth was 
 signalised by his profound and original speculations in 
 mathematical science, but who could stop short in the 
 
The Abbe Beaiivais. 135 
 
 brilliant career of discovery, who could resign all the 
 splendours of Hterary reputation, who could renounce 
 without a sigh all the distinctions which are conferred 
 upon genius, and resolve to devote every talent and every 
 hour to the defence and illustration of the gospel. This, 
 my dear sir, is superior to all Greek and to all Roman 
 fame." 
 
 THE AEB^ BEAUVAIS, 
 
 Preaching before Lewis XV., is said to have resolved, 
 if possible, either to get into a bishopric or into the Bas- 
 tille. He thundered from the pulpit against the scandal- 
 ous life of the monarch, and alluded, in terms that could 
 not be misunderstood, to his connexion with Madame Du 
 Barry. This lady, knowing her portrait, entreated the 
 king to punish him ; but he observed, with his usual mild- 
 ness of disposition, that a preacher could not always be 
 answerable for the application which his auditors might 
 make. Madame Du Barry, however, the same evening 
 wrote the following letter to the abbe : — 
 
 " Sir, — You have preached a very insolent discourse 
 to-day. In the room of using charity and moderation in 
 your sermon, you had the audacity to reflect upon his 
 Majesty's way of life, in the very face of his people. You 
 made your attack on him only, though you ought to have 
 used gentleness towards him, and have excused his frail- 
 ties to his subjects. I do not think you were moved by 
 a spirit of Christian charity, but excited by a lust of ambi- 
 tion, and a fondness for grandeur; these were the mo- 
 tives of your conduct. Were I in his Majesty's place, you 
 should be banished to some obscure village, and there 
 taught to be more cautious, and not to endeavour to raise 
 the people to rebel against the ruler God has put over 
 
136 Abbe D^ Espagnac. 
 
 them. I cannot say what the king may do, but you have 
 presumed too much upon his goodness. You did not ex- 
 pect from me a lesson for your conduct, drawn from the 
 Christian doctrine and moraUty ; but I would advise you, 
 for your own good, to pay attention to it. — I am, &c. 
 " The Countess du Barry." 
 
 abb:^ d'espagnac. 
 
 Notwithstanding the almost universal servility of the 
 French clergy previous to the French Revolution, there 
 were still found men, even among the highest dignitaries 
 of the Church, who thundered from the pulpit declama- 
 tions which shook the very foundations of the court. 
 
 In the Gazette de France^ 28th March 1780, we are told 
 that " there was no sermon on Holy Thursday before the 
 king, for the Abbe d'Espagnac, who was to have preached 
 that day, found himself suddenly indisposed at the mo- 
 ment he was stepping into the pulpit, and rendered in- 
 capable of delivering his discourse." Such is the account 
 given of the failure of this sermon ; but the secret fact is, 
 that at the moment the abbe was going to ascend the 
 pulpit an officer came to him, and informed him that, as 
 the king knew that he was not well, he excused him from 
 performing his duty. The eloquent orator, who did not 
 at first understand the kind anxiety of the king, assured 
 the messenger that he was very sensible of his Majesty's 
 attention, but that he was very well. The officer perceiv- 
 ing the honest simplicity of our abbe, was obliged to ex- 
 plain himself in more direct terms ; and leading him to a 
 post-chaise, made him return to Paris. 
 
 The abbe was a young man of considerable talents, 
 who sought celebrity by the boldness of his opinions. 
 
Mahoul, the Bishop of Aeth. 137 
 
 Several days before Lent, the king had said, " We heard 
 last year a most unchristian sermon, (the Abbe Rousseau's ;) 
 but this year we shall not certainly." This hint was gently 
 given to the abbd by the courtiers ; but he was resolute, 
 and would not be intimidated. The Archbishop of Paris, 
 and the great Almoner, were appointed to examine his 
 sermon before it was preached. They found it did not at 
 all touch upon the mystery of that day, but on a matter 
 most irrelevant, on a parallel between royalty and despot- 
 ism. Fearful that this might produce a disagreeable sen- 
 sation, they informed the Count de Maurepas, who, to 
 save himself a direct refusal to the orator, fell upon the 
 expedient above related. 
 
 MABOUL, THE BISHOP OF AETH, 
 
 In France, was an eminent preacher, and justly celebrated 
 for the excellence of his funeral orations. They are dis- 
 tinguished by that sweetness of style, that nobility of sen- 
 timent, that unction and touching simplicity which are 
 the characteristics of piety and genius. " The Bishop of 
 Aeth," says a French critic, " did not possess the mascu- 
 line vigour of Bossuet ; but he is more correct, and more 
 polished. Less profound, and more brilliant than Flechier, 
 he is, at the same time, more impressive and more affec- 
 tionate. If he introduces antitheses, they are of things, 
 not of words. More equal than Mascaron, he has the 
 taste, the grace, and the ease of Father La Rue. 
 
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 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ANECDOTES AND REMINISCENCES OF ENGLISH AND SCOTTISH 
 PREACHERS, SINCE THE REFORMATION TO THE END OF 
 THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 BISHOP LATIMER 
 
 AS born about the year 1480, and on the i6th of 
 October 1555, was burned ahve at the stake, 
 by the decree of bloody Mary, uttering those 
 memorable and truly prophetic words to his 
 companion in the flames, — " Be of good comfort^ brother 
 Ridley^ and play the man ; we shall this day light such a 
 candle^ by God's grace, ift Efigla?id, as. I trust, never shall 
 be put out.''' 
 
 He was a homely and painful preacher, of a character 
 singularly fearless and intrepid. On one occasion he 
 boldly denounced from the pulpit the appointment of 
 bishops and other distinguished ecclesiastics to lay offices, 
 and more especially to places in the mint, during the 
 reign of Edward VI. In one of his sermons on the 
 number of unpreaching prelates, he said : — 
 
 " But they are otherwise occupied ; some in king's 
 matters; some are ambassadors, some of the Privy 
 Council, some to furnish the court; some are lords of 
 Parliament ; some are presidents, some controllers of 
 
140 Latimer s Poiver of Rebuke. 
 
 mints. Well, well, is this their duty % Is this their office 1 
 Is this their calling'? Should we have ministers of the 
 Church to be controllers of mints % Is this a meet office 
 for a priest that hath the cure of souls % Is this his charge % 
 I would here ask one question : I would fain know who 
 controlleth the devil at home at his parish, while he con- 
 trolleth the mint % If the apostles might not leave the 
 office of preaching to the deacons, shall one leave it for 
 minting ? I cannot tell you. But the saying is, that since 
 priests have been minters, money hath been worse than 
 it was before ! " 
 
 In another part of his discourse, the good Bishop 
 proceeds to ask : — 
 
 " Is there never a nobleman to be a Lord President 
 but he must be a prelate 1 Is there never a wise man 
 in the realm to be a controller of the mint? I speak 
 it to your shame; I speak it to your shame. If there 
 be never a wise man, make a water-bearer, a tinker, 
 a cobbler, a slave, a page, the controller of the mint. 
 Make a mean gentleman, a groom, a yeoman, make a 
 a poor beggar. Lord President. Thus I speak, not that I 
 would have it so, but to your shame, if there be never a 
 gentleman meet nor able to be Lord President. For why 
 are not the noblemen and young gentlemen of England 
 so brought up in knowledge of God and in learning that 
 they might be able to execute offices in the common- 
 weaU Yea, and there be already noblemen enough, 
 though not so many as I could wish, to be Lord Presi- 
 sidents; and wise men enough for the mint. And as 
 unmeet a thing it is for bishops to be Lord Presidents, or 
 priests to be minters, as it was for the Corinthians to 
 plead matters of variance before heathen judges. 
 
He Asks a Straiige Qiiesilon. 141 
 
 " It is also a slander to the noblemen, as though they 
 lacked wisdom and learning to be able for such offices, or 
 else were no men of conscience, or else were not meet to 
 be trusted, and able for such offices. And a prelate has 
 a charge and cure otherwise ; and therefore he cannot 
 discharge his duty and be a Lord President too. For a 
 presidentship requireth a whole man ; and a bishop cannot 
 be two men. A bishop has his office, a flock to teach, 
 to look unto ; and therefore he cannot meddle with an- 
 other office, which alone requires a whole man ; he should 
 therefore give it over to whom it is meet, and labour in 
 his own business ; as Paul writes to the Thessalonians, 
 *■ Let every man do his own business, and follow his call- 
 ing.' Let the priest preach, and the nobleman handle the 
 temporal matters. Moses was a marvellous man, a good 
 man : Moses was a wonderful man, and did his duty, 
 being a married man : we lack such as Moses was. Well, 
 I would all men would look to their duty as God hath 
 called them, and then we should have a flourishing Chris- 
 tian commonweal. 
 
 " And now I would ask a strange question : Who is the 
 most diligent bishop and prelate in all England, that passes 
 all the rest in doing his office % I can tell, for I know who 
 it is ; 1 know him well. But now I think I see you listen- 
 ing and hearkening that I should name him. There is one 
 that passes all the other, and is the most diligent prelate 
 and preacher in all England. And will ye know who it 
 is % I will tell you — it is the devil. He is the most dili- 
 gent preacher of all others; he is never out of his diocese; 
 he is never from his cure ; you shall never find him un- 
 occupied ; he is ever in his parish ; he keeps residence at 
 all times ; you shall never find him out of the way ; call 
 
142 Latimer s Denunciation of Superstition, 
 
 for him when you will he is ever at home. He is the most 
 diligent preacher in all the realm; he is ever at his plough; 
 no lording nor loitering can hinder him ; he is ever apply- 
 ing his business ; you shall never find him idle I warrant 
 you. And his ofiice is to hinder religion, to maintain 
 superstition, to set up idolatry, to teach all kinds of 
 Popery. He is ready as can be wished for to set forth 
 his- plough ; to devise as many ways as can be to deface 
 and obscure God's glory. Where the devil is resident, and 
 has his plough.going, there away with books and up with 
 candles; away with Bibles and up with beads; away with 
 the light of the Gospel and up with the light of candles, 
 yea, at noonday. Where the devil is resident, that he may 
 prevail, up with all superstition and idolatry, — censing, 
 painting of images, candles, palms, ashes, holy water, and 
 new service of men's inventing ; as though man could 
 invent a better way to honour God with than God himself 
 hath appointed. Down with Christ's cross, up with pur- 
 gatory pickpurse — up with him, the Popish purgatory I 
 mean. Away with clothing the naked, the poor, and im- 
 potent ; up with decking of images, and gay garnishing of 
 stocks and stones ; up with man's traditions and his laws, 
 down with God's traditions and His most holy Word. 
 Down with the old honour due to God, and up with the 
 new god's honour. Let all things be done in Latin : there 
 must be nothing but Latin, not so much as ' Remember, 
 man, that thou art ashes, and into ashes shaltthou return;' 
 which are the words that the minister speaketh unto the 
 ignorant people when he gives them ashes upon Ash- 
 Wednesday; but it must be spoken in Latin. God's 
 Word may in nowise be translated into English. 
 
 " Oh that our prelates would be as diligent to sow the 
 
His Advice to the Bishops. 143 
 
 corn of good doctrine as Satan is to sow cockle and 
 darnel ! And this is the devilish ploughing which worketh 
 to have things in Latin, and hinders the fruitful edifica- 
 tion. But here some man will say to me, What, sir, are 
 you so privy to the devil's counsel that you know all 
 this to be true % True ; I know him too well, and have 
 obeyed him a little too much in condescending to some 
 follies ; and I know him as other men do ; yea, that he is 
 ever occupied, and ever busy in following his plough. I 
 know by St Peter, who saith of him, ' He goeth about like 
 a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.' I would 
 have this text well viewed and examined, every word of 
 it : ' He goeth about ' in every corner of his diocese ; he 
 goeth on visitation daily, he leaves no place of his cure 
 unvisited ; he walks round about from place to place, and 
 ceases not. ' As a lion,' that is, strongly, boldly, and 
 proudly; stately and fiercely, with haughty looks, with 
 his proud countenances, with his stately braggings. 
 ' Roaring,' for he lets not any occasion slip to speak or 
 to roar out when he seeth his time. ' He goeth about 
 seeking,' and not sleeping, as our bishops do; but he; 
 seeketh diligently, he searcheth diligently all corners wherq 
 he may have his prey. He roveth abroad in every plac6 
 of his diocese ; he standeth not still, he is never at rest^ 
 but ever in hand with his plough, that it may go forward. 
 But there was never such a preacher in England as he is. 
 Who is able to tell his diligent preaching, which every 
 day, and every hour, labours to sow cockle and darnel, 
 that he may bring out of form, and out of estimation and 
 renown, the institution of the Lord's Supper and Christ's 
 cross? For there he lost his right; for Christ said, ' Now 
 is the judgment of this world, and the prince of this world 
 
144 Latb7tcr''s Rebuke of the Me?t of Londoti. 
 
 shall be cast out. And as Moses did lift up the serpent 
 in the wilderness so must the Son of man be lifted up, 
 (John iii.) And when I shall be lift up from the earth, I 
 will draw all things unto myself For the devil was dis- 
 appointed of his purpose ; for he thought all to be his 
 own ; and when he had once brought Christ to the cross, 
 he thought all was sure." 
 
 In a sermon on the plough, he addresses the men of 
 London in these homely but stirring words : — 
 
 " Now what shall we say of these rich citizens of Lon- 
 don % what shall I say of them % Shall I call them proud 
 men of London, malicious men of London, merciless men 
 of London % No, no, I may not say so ; they will be 
 offended with me then. Yet must I speak. For is there 
 not reigning in London as much pride, as much covetous- 
 ness, as much cruelty, as much oppression, and as much 
 superstition, as there was in Nebo? Yes, I think, and 
 much more too. Therefore I say. Repent, O London ! 
 repent, repent ! Thou hearest thy faults told thee ; amend 
 them, amend them. I think, if Nebo had had the preach- 
 ing that thou hast, they would have converted. And you, 
 rulers and officers, be wise and circumspect ; look to your 
 charge, and see you do your duties ; and rather be glad to 
 amend your ill living than be angry when you are warned 
 or told of your fault. What ado was there made in Lon- 
 don at a certain man, because he said — and indeed at that 
 time on a just cause — ' Burgesses,' quoth he, '■ nay, butter- 
 flies ! ' What ado there was for that word ! and yet would 
 that they were no worse than butterflies ! Butterflies do 
 but their nature ; the butterfly is not covetous, is not 
 greedy of other men's goods ; is not full of envy and 
 hatred, is not malicious, is not cruel, is not merciless. 
 
Latimer's Rebuke of the Men of London. 145 
 
 The butterfly glories not in her own deeds, nor prefers 
 the traditions of men before God's Word ; it commits not 
 idolatry, nor worships false gods. But London cannot 
 abide to be rebuked ; such is the nature of men. If they 
 are pricked, they will kick ; if they are galled, they will 
 wince ; but yet they will not amend their faults, they will 
 not be ill spoken of. But how shall I speak well of them % 
 If you would be content to receive and follow the Word of 
 God, and favour good preachers ; if you could bear to be 
 told of your faults ; if you could amend when you hear of 
 them ; if you could be glad to reform that which is amiss ; 
 if I might see any such inchnation in you, that you would 
 leave off being merciless, and begin to be charitable, I 
 would then hope well of you — I would then speak well of 
 you. But London was never so ill as it is now. In times 
 past men were full of pity and compassion, but now there 
 is no pity ; for in London their brother shall die in the 
 streets for cold — he shall lie sick at the door, and perish 
 there for hunger. Was there ever more unmercifulness in 
 Nebo % I think not. In times past, when any rich man 
 died in London, they were wont to help the poor scholars 
 of the universities with exhibitions. When any man died, 
 they would bequeath great sums of money toward the 
 relief of the poor. When I was a scholar in Cambridge 
 myself, I heard very good report of London, and knew 
 many that had rehef from the rich men of London ; but 
 now I hear no such good report, and yet I inquire of it, 
 and hearken for it j but now charity is waxen cold — none 
 helps the scholar nor yet the poor. And in those days 
 what did they when they helped the scholars ? They 
 maintained and gave them livings who were very Papists 
 and professed the Pope's doctrine ; and now that the 
 
 K 
 
146 Holy Maid of Kenzs Conspiracy, 
 
 knowledge of God's Word is brought to light, and many 
 earnestly study and labour to set it forth, now hardly any 
 man helps to maintain them. 
 
 " O London, London ! repent, repent ; for I think God 
 is more displeased with London than ever he was with 
 the city of Nebo. Repent, therefore ; repent, London, 
 and remember that the same God liveth now that punished 
 Nebo — even the same God, and none other ; and He will 
 punish sin as well now as He did then : and He will 
 punish the iniquity of London as well as He did them of 
 .Nebo. Amend, therefore." 
 
 Holy Maid of Ken fs Conspiracy, 
 At the time of the noted imposture of the " Holy Maid 
 of Kent," who pretended that God had revealed to her, 
 that in case Henry VIII. should divorce Queen Katherine 
 of Arragon, and take another wife during her life, his 
 royalty would not be of a month's duration, but he should 
 die the death of a villain ; one Peto, who appears to have 
 been an accomphce in the imposture, was preaching be- 
 fore Henry at Greenwich, and, in the same strain with the 
 nun, did not scruple to tell his Majesty to his face that 
 he had been deceived by m.any lying prophets, while him- 
 self, as a true Micaiah, warned him that the dogs should 
 lick his blood, as they had Hckc-d the blood of Ahab. 
 Henry bore this outrageous insult with a moderation not 
 very usual with him; but to undeceive the people, he 
 appointed Dr Curwin to preach before him on the Sun- 
 day following ; who justified the king's proceedings, and 
 branded Peto with the epithets of " rebel, slanderer, dog, 
 and traitor." Curwin, however, was interrupted by a friar, 
 who called him a lying prophet, who sought to "alter the 
 
John Knox — Tavernier. . 147 
 
 succession to the crown ;" and proceeded so virulently to 
 abuse him, that the king was obliged to interpose, and 
 command him to be silent. Peto and the friar were after- 
 wards summoned before the king and council, but were 
 only reprimanded for their insolence. 
 
 JOHN KNOX. 
 
 On one occasion when that intrepid reformer, John 
 Knox, took the liberty of lecturing Queen Mary from the 
 pulpit, her Majesty indignantly exclaimed, " What have 
 ye to do with my marriage % or what are you in this com- 
 monwealth ?" "A subject born within the same, madam,^' 
 replied the reformer, piqued by the last question, and the 
 contemptuous tone in which it was proposed. ''And 
 albeit I be neither earl, lord, nor baron in it, yet has God 
 made me (how abject that ever I be in your eyes) a profit- 
 able member within the same. Yea, madam, to me it 
 appertains no less to forewarn of such things as may hurt 
 it, if I foresee them, than it doth to any of the nobility; 
 for both my vocation and conscience require plainness of 
 me. And therefore, madam, to yourself I say that which 
 I speak in public place : whensoever the nobility of this 
 realm shall consent, that ye be subject to an unfaithful 
 husband, they do as much as in them lieth to renounce 
 Christ, to banish His truth from them, to betray the free- 
 dom of this realm, and perchance it shall in the end do 
 small comfort to yourself." 
 
 Lay F?'eacher. 
 In the year 1555, a Mr Tavernier, of Bresley, in Nor- 
 folk, had a special licence, signed by King Edward VI., 
 authorising him to preach in any place of his Majesty's 
 
14^ Queen Elizabeth. 
 
 dominions, though he was a layman \ and he is said 
 to have preached before the King at Court, wearing a 
 velvet bonnet or round cap, a damask gown, and a gold 
 chain about his neck. In the reign of Mary he appeared 
 in the pulpit of St Mary's, Oxford, with a sword by his 
 side, and a gold chain about his neck, and preached to 
 the scholars, beginning his sermon in these words : — 
 " Arriving at the Mount of St Mary's, in the Stony Stage 
 v/here I now stand, I have brought you some fine biscuits 
 baked in the oven of charity, carefully conserved for the 
 chickens of the Church." This sort of style — especially 
 the alliterative part of it — was much admired in those 
 days, even by the most accomplished of scholars, and was 
 long after in great favour both with speakers and hearers. 
 At the time that Mr Tavernier first received commis- 
 sion as a preacher, good preaching was so very rare, that 
 not only the king's chaplains were obliged to make cir- 
 cuits round the country to instruct the people, and to 
 fortify them against Popery, but even laymen, who were 
 scholars, were employed for that purpose. 
 
 QUEEN ELIZABETH. 
 
 With all the strength of mind which Queen Elizabeth 
 possessed, she had the weakness of her sex as far as 
 related to her age and her personal attractions. " The 
 majesty and gravity of a sceptre," says a contemporary of 
 this great princess, "could not alter that nature of a 
 woman in her. When Bishop Rudd was appointed to 
 preach before her, he wishing, in a godly zeal, as well be- 
 came him, that she should think sometime of immortality, 
 being then sixty-three years of age, took his text for that 
 purpose out of the Psalms (xc. 12), ' Oh teach us to num- 
 
Archbishop Usher. 149 
 
 ber our days, that we may incline our hearts unto wisdom!' 
 which text he handled very learnedly ; but when he spoke 
 of some sacred and mystical numbers, as three for the 
 Trinity, three times three for the heavenly hierarchy, 
 seven for the Sabbath, and seven times seven for a 
 jubilee ; and, lastly, nine times seven for the grand 
 cUmacterical year, (her age,) she, perceiving whereto it 
 tended, began to be troubled with it. The bishop, dis- 
 covering all was not well — for the pulpit stood opposite 
 to her Majesty — fell to treat of some more plausible 
 numbers, as of the number 666, making Latinus, with 
 which, he said, he could prove Pope to be Antichrist, &c. 
 He still, however, interlarded his sermon with Scripture 
 passages, touching the infirmities of age, as that in Eccle- 
 siastes, ' When the grinders shall be few in number, and 
 they wax dark that look out of the windows, &c., and the 
 daughters of singing shall be abased,' and more to that 
 purpose. The Queen, as her manner was, opened the 
 window, but she was so far from giving him thanks or 
 good countenance, that she said plainly, ' He might have 
 kept his arithmetic to himself; but I see the greatest 
 clerks are not the wisest men ;' and so she went away 
 discontented." 
 
 ARCHBISHOP USHER. 
 
 This eminent divine, afterwards Archbishop of Armagh, 
 preached, when young, before the State at Christ Church 
 Cathedral, Dublin. He selected for his text Ezekiel, 
 chapter iv., verse 6 : " And thou shalt bear the iniquity of 
 Judah forty days. I have appointed thee each day for a 
 year." He then made this conjecture in reference to 
 Ireland — " Count from this year and then those whom you 
 
150 Presbyterian Eloquence Displayed. 
 
 now embrace shall be your ruin, and you shall bear their 
 iniquity." This remark, uttered by him in his sermon, 
 seemed only to be the rhapsody of a young man, who was 
 no friend to Popery ; but afterwards, when it came to pass 
 at the expiration of forty years, that is, from 1601 to 1641, 
 when the Irish rebellion broke out, and after the papists 
 had murdered and slain so many thousands of Protestants, 
 and harassed the whole nation by a sanguinary war, then 
 those who lived to see that day began to think that Usher 
 was a prophet. 
 
 Presbyterian Eloquence Displayed^ 
 An old book, thus describes the method of preaching, 
 popular among the Presbyterians of the seventeenth 
 century : — 
 
 " One John Simple, a very zealous preacher among them, 
 used to personate and act sermons in the old monkish 
 style. At a certain time he preached upon that de- 
 bate, Whether a man be justified by faith or by works, 
 and acted it after this manner : ' Sirs, this is a very 
 great debate; but who is that looking in at the door 
 with his red cap % It is very ill manners to be looking 
 in : but what 's your name % Robert Bellarmine. Bellar- 
 mine, saith he, whether is a man justified by faith or by 
 works? He is justified by works. Stand thou there, 
 man. But what is he, that honest-Hke man standing in 
 the floor with a long beard and Geneva cowl? Avery 
 honest-like man ! draw near ; what 's your name, sir % My 
 name is John Calvin. Calvin, honest Calvin, whether is a 
 man justified by faith or by works ? He is justified by 
 faith. Very well, John, thy leg to my leg, and we shall 
 hough \trip'\ down Bellarmine even now.' 
 
Thomas Playfcf-e. 151 
 
 " Another time, preaching on the day of judgment, he 
 toid them, ' Sirs, this will be a terrible day ; we '11 all be 
 there, and, in the throng, I, John Simple, will be, and all of 
 you will stand at my back. Christ will look to me, and 
 he will say, Who is that standing there % I '11 say again, 
 Yea, even as ye ken'd not, Lord. He '11 say, I know thou 's 
 honest John Simple ; draw near, John. Now John, what 
 good service have you done to me on earth % I have 
 brought hither a company of blue bonnets for you, Lord. 
 Blue bonnets, John ! What is become of the brave hats, 
 the silks, and the satins, John % I '11 tell, I know not, 
 Lord ; they went a gait of their own. Well, honest John, 
 thou and thy blue bonnets are welcome to me : come to 
 my right hand, and let the devil take the hats, the silks, 
 and the satins.'" 
 
 THOMAS PLAYFERE, 
 
 Once Professor of Divinity in the University of Cambridge, 
 is now forgotten. This worthy had all the faults of his 
 time yet there was in him an affluence 01 imagery which 
 rendered his discourses wonderfully effective. Take the 
 following : — 
 
 Thai the Preacher must say well and doe well. . 
 " Both pastor an people must doe that themselves 
 v/hich they teach others to doe. That must be. First for 
 the pastor he hath two kind 01 garments,— a breastplate, 
 and an Ephod : the breastplate shows that he must have 
 science to teach ; the Ephod shows txiat he must have 
 conscience to doe that which he teacheth. And in the 
 very breastplate itself is written, not onely Urim, but also 
 Thummim. Urim signifies light. Thummim signifies 
 
152 John St ought on. 
 
 perfection. To proove that the pastor must not onely be 
 the light of the world, but also the salt of the earth : not 
 only a light of direction in his teaching, but also a patterne 
 of perfection in his doing. For even as the snuffers of the 
 tabernacle were made of pure golde, so preachers, which 
 should purge and dresse, and cleare others that they may 
 burne-out brightly, must be made of pure gold." * * * 
 
 JOHN STOUGHTON 
 
 Was another quaint and vigorous Puritan. He was one of 
 the chaplains to King James I., and occasionally preached 
 at St Paul's Cross. He wrote a book called " Baruch's 
 Sore gently opened," which to a modern reader sounds 
 very queer. To the pious minds of the seventeenth cen- 
 tury such talk was abundantly edifying. So do times and 
 fashions pass away. The following passages ought not to 
 be buried for ever beneath the dust of old libraries : — 
 
 Peace with Conscience. 
 
 "The Bride that hath good cheere within, and good 
 musicke, and a good Bridegroome with her, may be 
 merrie, though the hail chance to rattle upon the tiles 
 without upon her wedding day : though the world should 
 rattle about his eares, a man may sit merrie that sits at 
 the feast of a good conscience : nay, the child of God, by 
 vertue of this, in the midst of the waves of affliction, is as 
 secure as that child, which in a shipwracke was upon a 
 planke with his mother, till shee awaked him securely 
 sleeping, and then with his prettie countenance sweetly 
 smiling, and by-and-by sportingly asking a stroake to beat 
 the naughtie waves, and at last when they continued 
 boisterous for all that, sharply chiding them, as though 
 
John Flavel. 153 
 
 they had been but his playfellowes. O the innocencie ! 
 O the comfort of peace ! O the tranquillitie of a spotless 
 mind! There is no heaven so cleere as a good con- 
 
 JOHN FLAVEL. 
 
 About the middle of the seventeenth century, the vener- 
 able John Flavel, whose practical writings are well known, 
 was settled at Dartmouth. 
 
 Mr Flavel's manner was remarkably affectionate and 
 serious, often exciting powerful emotions in his hearers. 
 On one occasion he preached from these words, " If any 
 man love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be anathema, 
 maranatha." The discourse was unusually solemn, parti- 
 cularly the explanation of the words a?iathana maranatha: 
 " Cursed with a curse, cursed of God with a bitter and 
 grievous curse." At the conclusion of the service, when 
 Mr Flavel arose to pronounce the blessing, he paused and 
 said, " How shall I bless this whole assembly, when every 
 person in it who loveth not the Lord Jesus Christ is ana- 
 thema maranatha ? " This address deeply affected the 
 audience, and one gentleman, a person of rank, was so 
 overcome by his feelings, that he fell senseless to the floor. 
 
 In the congregation was a lad named Luke Short, then 
 about fifteen years old, and a native of Dartmouth. 
 Shortly after the event just narrated he sailed to America, 
 where he passed the rest of his life. Mr Short's days 
 were lengthened much beyond the usual term. When a 
 a hundred years old, he had sufficient strength to work on 
 his farm, and his mental faculties were very little impaired. 
 Hitherto he had lived in carelessness ; he was now " a 
 sinner a hundred years old," and apparently ready to " die 
 
54 Robert WilJziiison. 
 
 accursed/' But one day, as he sat in in his fields, he 
 busied himself in reflecting on his past lite. Recurring to 
 the events of his youth, his memory fixed upon Mr Flavel's 
 discourse above alluded to, a considerable part of which 
 he was able to recollect. The earnestness of the preacher's 
 manner, the truths which he delivered, and the effects pro- 
 duced on the congregation, were brought fresh to his mind. 
 The blessing of God accompanied his meditations j he felt 
 that he had not "loved the Lord Jesus Christ ;" he feared 
 the dreadful "anathema;" conviction was followed by re- 
 pentance. To the day of his death, which took place 
 in his 1 1 6th year, he gave pleasing evidence of piety. 
 
 ROBERT WILKINSON, 
 
 Of Cambridge, preached a sermon entitled. The Royal 
 Merchant, preached at Whitehall, before the King's Ma- 
 jesty^ at the Nuptials of an Honourable Lord and his Lady, 
 The argument is one long laudation of the bride, and the 
 text is, " She is like a 7nerehant ship, she bringeth her goods 
 Jroni afar.'' Mark his description of a wise and prudent 
 wife : — 
 
 " But what saith the Scriptures ? ' The King's daughter 
 is all glorious within^ Ps. xlv., and as ships which are the 
 fairest in show, yet are not always the fittest for use ; so 
 neither are women the more to be esteemed, but the more 
 to be suspected for their fair trappings ; yet we condemn 
 not in greater personages the use of ornaments ; yea, we 
 teach that silver, silks, and gold were created, not only for 
 the necessity, but also for ornament of the saints. In the 
 practice whereof, Rebeccah, a holy woman, is noted to 
 have received from Isaac, a holy man, even ear-rings, habi- 
 liments, and bracelets of gold, (Gen. xxiv.,) therefore this 
 
His Sermon on a MatTiage. 155 
 
 is it we teach for rules of Christian sobriety, that if a woman 
 exceed neither decency in fashion, nor the Hmits of her 
 state and degree, and that she be proud of nothing, we 
 see no reason but she may wear anything. 
 
 " It followeth she is hke a ship, but what a ship % A ship 
 of merchants — no doubt a great commendation ; for the 
 kingdom of heaven is Hke a merchant, (Matt, xiii.,) and 
 merchants have been princes, (Isa. xxiii.,) and princes are 
 gods, (Ps. Ixxxii.) The merchant is of all men most la- 
 borious for his life, the most adventurous in his labour, 
 the most peaceable upon the sea, the most profitable to 
 the land ; yea, the merchant is the combination and union 
 of lands and countries. She is like a ship of merchants, 
 therefore first to be reckoned, as ye see, among the laity ; 
 not like a fisherman's boat, not like St Peter's ship ; for 
 Christ did call no she apostles. Indeed it is commend- 
 able in a woman, when she is able by her wisdom to in- 
 struct her children, and to give at opportunities good 
 counsel to her husband ; but when women shall take upon 
 them, as many have done, to build churches, and to chalk 
 out disciphne for the church ; this is neither commend- 
 able, nor tolerable ; for ' her hands,' saith Solomon, ' imisf 
 handle the spindle^ (ver. 1 9,) the spindle or the cradle, but 
 neither the altar nor the temple ; for St John commendeth 
 even to the elect lady, not so much her talking, as her 
 walking in the commandments, (2 John v. 6 ;) therefore 
 to such preaching women, it may be answered, as St Ber- 
 nard sometimes answered the image of the blessed Virgin 
 at the great church at Spire, in Germany. Bernard was no 
 sooner come into the church, but the image straight saluted 
 him, and bade him. Good morrozv, Bernard^ whereat Ber- 
 nard, well knowing the juggling of the friars, made ans'A'ei 
 
156 Richard Bernard. 
 
 again, out of St Paul. Oh, saith he, your ladyship hath 
 forgot yourself^ it is not lawful for women to speak iji the 
 chu?rh" 
 
 RICHARD BERNARD 
 
 Was not less whimsical, e.g. : — " Sin is the Thief and Rob- 
 ber ; he stealeth our graces, spoileth us of every blessing, 
 utterly undoeth us, and maketh miserable both body and 
 soul. He is a murderer : spares no person, sex, or age ; 
 a strong thief: no human power can bind him; a 
 subtle thief: he beguiled Adam, David, yea, even Paul. 
 The only watchman to spy him out is Godly-Jealousy. 
 His resort is in Soul's Town, lodging in the heart. Sin 
 is to be sought in the by-lanes, and in Sense, Thought, 
 Word, and Deed Streets. The hue and cry is after 
 fellows called Outside, who nod or sleep at Church, and, 
 if awake, have their mind wandering : Sir Wordly Wise, a 
 self-conceited earthworm : Sir Lukewarm, a Jack-on-both 
 sides j Sir Plausible Civil ; Master Machiavel ; a licentious 
 fellow named Libertine j a snappish fellow, one Scrupulo- 
 sity; and one babbling Babylonian; these conceal the 
 villain sin. To escape, he pretends to be an honest man ; 
 calls vices by virtuous names; his relations, Ignorance, 
 Error, Opinion, Idolatry, Subtility, Custom, Forefathers, 
 Sir Power, Sir Sampler, Sir Must-do, Sir Silly, Vain-Hope, 
 Presumption, Wilful, and Saint-like, all shelter and hide 
 him. The Justice, Lord Jesus, issues His warrant — God's 
 Word — to the Constable, Mr Illuminated Understanding, 
 dwelling in Regeneration, aided by his wife, Grace ; his 
 sons, Will and Obedience, and his daughters, Faith, Hope, 
 and Charity ; with his men. Humility and Self-denial, and 
 his maids, Temperance and Patience. Having got his 
 
His Quaint Method. 157 
 
 warrant, he calls to aid his next neighbour, Godly Sorrow, 
 with his seven sons, Care, Clearing, Indignation, Fear, 
 Vehement Desire, Zeal, and Revenge : these are capable 
 of apprehending the sturdiest thief. He goes to the com- 
 mon inn, an harlot's house called Mistress Heart, a recept- 
 acle for all villains and thieves, no dishonest person being 
 denied house-room. Mistress Heart married her own 
 father, an Old-man, keeping rest night and day, to pre- 
 vent any godly motion from lodging there. The house 
 has five doors, Hearing, Seeing, Tasting, Smelling, and 
 Feeling. Eleven maids, impudent harlots, wait upon the 
 guests, Love, Hatred, Desire, Detestation, Vain-hope, 
 Despair, Fear, Audacity, Joy, Sorrow, and Anger, and a 
 man-servant Will. The Dishes are the lusts of the flesh, 
 served in the platter of pleasure ; the lust of the eyes, in 
 the plate of profit ; and the pride of life. The drink is the 
 pleasures of sin : their bedroom is natural corruption. ' In 
 this room lieth Mistress Heart, all her maids, her man, 
 and all her guests together, like wild Irish.' The bed is 
 impenitency, and the coverings, Carnal Security; when 
 the Constable enters, he attacks them all with ' apprehen- 
 sions of God's wrath,' and carries them before the Judge, 
 who examines the prisoners, and imprisons them until the 
 assizes, in the custody of the jailer. New Man. ' If any 
 prisoner breaks out, the sheriff — Religion — must bear the 
 blame ; saying. This is your religion is it ?' The keepers 
 and fetters, as vows, fasting, prayer, &c., are described 
 with the prison.' " 
 
 " The commission is Conscience ; the circuit the Soul ; 
 the council for the king are Divine Reason and Quick-sight- 
 edness; the clerk, Memory; the witness. Godly Sorrow; the 
 grand jury, Holy Men, the inspired authors ; the traverse 
 
158 Dr John Evei-ard. 
 
 jury, Faith, Love of God, Fear of God, Charity, Sincerity, 
 Unity, Patience, Innocency, Chastity, Equity, Verity, and 
 Contentation ; all these are challenges by the prisoners 
 who would be tried by Nature, Doubting, Careless, &c., all 
 freeholders of great means. This the Judge overrules ; 
 Old-man is put on his trial first, and David, Job, Isaiah, 
 and Paul are witnesses against him. He pleads, * There 
 is no such thing as original corruption. Pelagius, a learned 
 man, and all those now that are called Anabaptists, have 
 hitherto, and yet do maintain that sin cometh by imitation, 
 and not by inbred pravity. Good my lord, cast not away 
 so old a man, for I am at this day 5569 years old.' He 
 is found guilty, and his sentence is : ' Thou shalt be car- 
 ried back to the place of execution, and there be cast off, 
 with all thy deeds, and all thy members daily mortified 
 and crucified, with all thy lusts, of every one that hath 
 truly put on Christ.' Mistress Heart is then tried, Moses 
 (Gen. viii. 21), Jeremiah (xvii. 9), Ezekiel (xi. 19), Mat- 
 thew (xii. 34), and others give evidence, and she is con- 
 victed, and sentenced to perpetual imprisonment under 
 the jailer, New Man. All the rest of the prisoners are 
 tried. 
 
 DR JOHN EVERARD, 
 
 Of Kensington, wrote a volume, entitled, " Some Gospel 
 Treasuries Opened, or the HoHest of all Unveiled," &c. 
 1653. Observe his singular method of illustrating and 
 expounding Joshua xv. 15-17 : 
 
 The smiting of Kiriath-sepher. 
 '' But to all this I reduce only this part of this chapter 
 now read, to unfold and interpret all this : And for the 
 present I have made choice of these two verses, to give light 
 
His S'ui'iular Method. 
 
 159 
 
 to that whole chapter; and that chapter is the exposition 
 of this, as I before said : Oh, how hke is my text, and every 
 part thereof, to those new washed sheep ! Cant. iv. 2, 
 ' Every word beareth tiuins^ and there is none barreji amo7ig 
 them: 
 
 " Of which two verses, I shall say, as Abigail said of 
 Nabal, when David came to destroy him, 
 
 " ' Regard not this son of Belial^ and let not my Lord be 
 angry ^ Nabal is his name., and so is he: So I may say of 
 this text, as their names are, so a7'e they. 
 
 " Here is Kiriath-sepher, and Caleb, and Othniel, and 
 Achsah. We will see what secrets and mysteries the Holy 
 Spirit hath couched under these vails : for, as they are in 
 Hebrew, they express nothing to us ; but read them in 
 English, and take off their vail, and you may see what 
 honey will co7ne out of the month of the eater, and out of the 
 strong sweetness. 
 
 " What, then, is Kiriath-sepher ! In Hebrew it signifies 
 the City of the Booh, or the City of the Letter. 
 
 " We will first interpret them to you into English, and 
 then we shall come to show you what they are to every 
 one of us ; for it is the office of the ministers of the New 
 Testament, to strive to take off the vail, that every one may 
 see his own face in the Scriptures. 
 
 " In the next place, what is Achsah % In Hebrew, it 
 signifies the rendijig of the vail, 
 
 " And then what signifies Caleb % In the Hebrew it is 
 as much as to say, My heart, or a perfect heart, or a good 
 heart. 
 
 " And what, then, is Othniel % In the Hebrew it is, 
 Gods good tifne, or the Lord's ft opportunity. 
 
 " I have, beloved, as yet read it to you but in Hebrew : 
 
i6o Thomas Adams. 
 
 and then it runs as it is written, and Caleb said, ' Who- 
 soever smiteth the city Kiriath-sepher and taketh it, to him 
 will I give Achsah my daughter to wife; and Othniel, the 
 son of Kenaz, the brother of Caleb, took it, a?id he gave unto 
 him Achsah his daughter to wife,' and so on. But in Eng- 
 lish it is to be read thus : And my heart said, or a good 
 heart said, that whosoever smiteth and taketh the City of 
 the Letter, to him will I give the tearing or rending of the 
 vail ; and Othniel took it, as being God's fit time or oppor- 
 tunity, and he married Achsah ; that is, enjoyed the rend- 
 ing of the vail, and thereby had the blessing possessed by 
 Achsah, by the vail being rent, both the upper springs, and 
 the nether springs. To him that obtains this rendi?tg of 
 the vail, to him shall be given the mysteries of the king- 
 dom of God ; he possesses///// content, heaven and all hap- 
 piness, and whatever his heart can wish for, as we shall 
 show hereafter, if God permit. 
 
 THOMAS ADAMS 
 
 Is a foremost name among the Puritan orators of the 
 seventeenth century. His collected works were pubHshed 
 in 1629. He is known to have been alive in the year 
 1658. But the place of his death and burial knoweth no 
 man. Probably the record perished in the fire of London 
 with the invaluable registers and muniments of the Cathed- 
 ral of St Paul's and the parish churches of the city. His 
 "Commentary on the Second Epistle of St Peter" has 
 been lately republished. His sermons were like those of 
 no other preacher. They have a rugged, yet forceful 
 character thoroughly their own. His sententious aphor- 
 isms were innumerable. Of the Gunpowder Plot he says, 
 
His Maxims and Quaint Sayings. i6i 
 
 " The Papists formerly loved faggots, now powder." " If 
 these are Catholics, there are no cannibals." 
 
 " To want the eyes of angels is far worse than to want the 
 eyes of beasts. 
 
 " Riches are called bona fortuna^ the goods of fortune ; 
 not that they come by chance, but that it is a chance if 
 they ever be good. 
 
 " Philip was wont to say that an ass laden with gold would 
 enter the gates of any city ; but the golden load of bribes 
 and extortions shall bar a man out of the city of God. 
 All that is to follow is like quick-silver ; it will be running. 
 
 " Not seldom a russet coat shrouds as high a heart as a 
 silken garment. You shall have a paltry cottage send up 
 more black smoke than a goodly manor. It is not, there- 
 fore, wealth, but vice, that excludes men out of heaven. 
 
 " There are some that ' kiss their own hands,' (Job xxxi. 
 27,) for every good turn that befals them. God giveth 
 them blessings, and their own wit or strength hath the 
 praise. 
 
 " It is usual with God, when He hath done beating His 
 children, to throw the rod into the fire. Babylon a long 
 time shall be the Lord's hammer to bruise the nations, at 
 last itself shall be bruised. Judas did an act that redounds 
 to God's eternal honour and our blessed salvation, yet was 
 his wages the gallows. All these hammers, axes, rods, 
 saws, swords, instruments, when they have done those 
 offices they never meant, shall, for those they have meant, 
 be thrown to confusion. 
 
 " The five senses are the Cinque Ports where all the great 
 traffic of the devil is taken in. 
 
 "When the heart is a good secretary, the tongue is a good 
 pen ; but when the heart is a hollow bell, the tongue is a 
 
 L 
 
1 62 TJie Style of Thomas Adams. 
 
 loud and lewd clapper. Those undefiled virgins admitted 
 to follow the Lamb have this praise, ' In their mouth was 
 found no guile.' 
 
 "Ask the woman that hath conceived a child in her 
 womb, will it be a son % Peradventure so ! Will it be 
 well formed and featured? Peradventure so ! Will it be 
 wise ? Peradventure so ! Will it be rich % Peradventure 
 so ! Will it be long-lived % Peradventure so ! Will it be 
 mortal? Yes, this is without peradventure; it will die ! 
 
 " Such a voice."— 2 Peter, i. 17. 
 " Tully commends voices : Socrates' for sweetness ; 
 Lysias' for subtlety; Hyperides' for sharpness; ^schines' 
 for shrillness ; Demosthenes' for powerfulness ; gravity 
 in Africanus ; smoothness in Lcelius — rare voices ! In 
 holy writ, we admire a sanctified boldness in Peter ; pro- 
 foundness in Paul ; loftiness in John ; vehemency in him 
 and his brother James, those two sons of thunder ; fer- 
 vency in Simon, the zealous. Among ecclesiastical writers, 
 we admire weight in Tertullian ; a gracious composure of 
 well-mattered words in Lactantius; a flowing speech in 
 C)^rian ; a familiar statehness in Chrysostom ; a con- 
 scionable delight in Bernard ; and all these graces in good 
 Saint Augustine. Some construed the Scriptures allegori- 
 cally, as Origen ; some literally, as Jerome ; some morally, 
 as Gregory; others pathetically, as Chrysostom; others 
 dogmatically, as Augustine. The new writers have their 
 several voices : Peter Martyr, copiously judicious ; Zan- 
 chius, judiciously copious. Luther wrote with a coal on 
 the walls of his chamber : Res et verba Philippus; res, sine 
 verbis Luther us ; verba, sine re Erasmus : nee res nee verba 
 Carlostadius, Melancthon had both style and matter; 
 
Adams' LtgenuUy. 163 
 
 Luther, matter without style j Erasmus, style without 
 matter ; Carlstadt, neither the one nor the other. Calvin 
 was behind none, not the best of them, for a sweet diluci- 
 dation of the Scriptures, and urging of solid arguments 
 against the anti-Christians. One is happy in expounding 
 the words ; another, in delivering the matter ; a third, for 
 cases of conscience ; a fourth, to determine the school 
 doubts. But now put all these together : a hundred 
 Peters and Pauls ; a thousand Bernards and Augustines ; 
 a million of Calvins and Melancthons. Let not their 
 voices be once named with this voice : they all spake 
 as children. This is the voice of the Anciejit of Days T 
 
 The ingenuity with which he describes the making of 
 the tongue has never been surpassed : — 
 
 " To create so little a piece of flesh, and to put such 
 vigour into it ; to give it neither bones nor nerves, yet to 
 make it stronger than arms and legs, and those most able 
 and serviceable parts of the body. 
 
 "Because it is so forcible, therefore hath the most wise 
 God ordained that it shall be but little ; that it shall be 
 but one. That so the parvity and singularity may abate 
 the vigour of it. If it were paired, as the arms, legs, 
 hands, feet, it would be much more unruly. For he that 
 cannot tame one tongue, how would he be troubled with 
 twain. 
 
 " Because it is so unruly, the Lord hath hedged it in, as 
 a man will not trust a wild horse in an open pasture, but 
 prison him in a close pound. A double fence hath the 
 Creator given to confine it— the lips and the teeth— that 
 through those bounds it might not break." 
 
164 Archbishop Lei^hton. 
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON 
 
 sometimes reminds one of Adams. Witness the follow- 
 ing:— 
 
 Afflictions of the Godly, 
 
 " The more the children of God walk like their Father 
 and their home, the more unUke must they, of necessity, 
 become to the world about them, and, therefore, become 
 the very mark of all their enmities and malice. And thus, 
 indeed, the godly, though the sojis of peace, are the im- 
 proper causes, the occasion of much noise and disturbance 
 in the world ; as their Lord, the Prince of Peace, avows 
 it openly of Himself in that sense, ' I came not to se?id peace, 
 hit a sword, to seta mafi at vai'iajice with his father, and the 
 daughter against the mother ' 6^^. (Matt. x. 34.) If a son 
 in a family begin to inquire after God, and withdraw from 
 their profane or dead way, oh what a clamour rises pre- 
 sently ! ' Oh, my son, or daughter, or wife, is become a 
 plain fool,' &c. And then all is done that may be to quell 
 and vex them, and make their life grievous to them. The 
 exact holy walking of a Christian really condemns the 
 v/orld about him ; shows the disorder and foulness of their 
 profane ways. The life of religion, set by the side of dead 
 formality, discovers it to be a carcase, a lifeless appear- 
 ance ; and for this, neither grossly wicked, nor decent, 
 formal persons can well digest it. There is in the life of 
 a Christian a convincing light, that shows the deformity of 
 the works of darkness, and a piercing heart, that scorches 
 the ungodly, and stirs and troubles their consciences. This 
 they cannot endure, and hence rises in them a contrary fire 
 of wicked hatred, and hence the trials, the fiery trials, of 
 the godly." 
 
 When this great and pious prelate was minister of a 
 
Laiuicclot Andreiucs. 165 
 
 parish in Scotland, this question was asked of the ministers 
 at their provincial meeting : " If they preached on the 
 duties of the times'?" When it was found that Mr Leighton 
 did not, and he was blamed for the omission, he answered: 
 *' If all the brethren have preached on the times, may not 
 one poor brother be suffered to preach on eternity ? May 
 ministers preach on the subject of eternity, and hearers 
 hear, in the view of that great and momentous concern ! " 
 The following is the character of Archbishop Leighton, 
 given by Bishop Burnet : — " He had the greatest elevation 
 of soul, the largest compass of knowledge, the most mor- 
 tified and heavenly disposition that I ever yet saw in 
 mortal. He had the greatest parts as well as virtue, with 
 the most perfect humility that I ever saw in man j and 
 had a sublime strain in preaching, with as grave a gesture, 
 and such a majesty, both of thought, of language, and 
 pronunciation, that I never once saw a wandering eye 
 where he preached, and I have seen whole assemblies 
 often melt in tears before him ; and of whom I can say, 
 with great truth, that in a free and frequent conversation 
 with him for above two-and-twenty years, I never saw 
 him say an idle word, or a word that had not a direct 
 tendency to edification j and I never once saw him in 
 any other temper but that I wished to be in the last 
 moment of my life." 
 
 LAUNCELOT ANDREWES, 
 
 Afterwards the renowned and saintly bishop of Win- 
 chester, whose remains were interred in the Lady Chapel 
 of St Saviour's Church, Southwark, was some time Fellow 
 of Pembroke Hall, Cambridge. " There was then at that 
 town," says old Aubrey, in his gossipping MSS,, " a good 
 
1 66 The Alderman luJio Slept at Church. 
 
 fat alderman, that was wont to sleep at church, which he 
 endeavoured to prevent, but could not. Well, this was 
 preached against, as a mark of reprobation. The good 
 man was exceedingly troubled at it, and went to Mr 
 Andrewes' chamber to be satisfied in point of conscience. 
 Mr Andrewes told him it was an ill habit of body, not of 
 mind, and advised him, on Sundays, to make a sparing 
 meal at dinner, and to make up at supper. The alder- 
 man did so ; but sleep came on him again, for all that, 
 and he was preached against. He comes again to Mr 
 Andrewes, with tears in his eyes, to be resolved, who then 
 told him that he would have him then make a full hearty 
 meal, as he was used to do, and presently after take out 
 his full sleep. The alderman followed his advice, and 
 came to St Mary's Church the Sunday afterwards, when 
 the preacher was provided with a sermon to condemn all 
 those who slept at that godly exercise, as a mark of 
 reprobation. The good alderman, having taken Mr An- 
 drewes' advice, looks at the preacher all the sermon 
 time, and spoils his design. Mr Andrewes was extremely 
 spoken of, and preached against, for refusing to excuse 
 a sleeper in sermon- time j but he had learning and wit to 
 defend himself" 
 
 Aubrey's narrative is valuable, as illustrating the person- 
 ality with which the preachers of the seventeenth century 
 attacked the vices and frailties of their congregations. 
 
 Dean Swift has a sermon addressed to persons of this 
 character. He takes for his text Acts xx. 9, the account 
 of Eutychus falling asleep in a window during the preach- 
 ing of St Paul. *' I have chosen," says he, " these words 
 with design, if possible, to disturb some part in this audi- 
 ence of half an hour's sleep, for the convenience and 
 
Hoiv to Rouse the Sleepers in Chiireh, 167 
 
 exercise thereof this place, at this season of the day, is 
 very much celebrated. 
 
 " The preachers now in the world, however they may 
 exceed St Paul in the art of setting men to sleep, do ex- 
 tremely fall short of him in the power of working miracles; 
 therefore hearers are become more cautious, so as to 
 choose more safe and convenient stations and postures 
 for their repose, without hazard of their persons, and upon 
 the whole matter choose rather to trust their destruction 
 to a miracle than their safety." 
 
 John Aylmer, bishop of London in the time of Queen 
 Elizabeth, having a congregation not so attentive as they 
 ought to have been to what he was teaching, began to 
 read out of the Hebrew Bible. This immediately aroused 
 his hearers, who looked up to him as amazed that he 
 should entertain them to so little purpose in an unknown 
 language. But when he perceived them all thoroughly 
 awake and attentive, he proceeded in his sermon, after he 
 had admonished them how much it reflected on their 
 good sense that, in matters of mere novelty, and when 
 they understood not a word, they should so carefully 
 attend, and yet be so very negligent in regarding those 
 points which were of the most real importance to them 
 imaginable. 
 
 A Methodist preacher once observing that several of 
 his congregation had fallen asleep, suddenly exclaimed, 
 with a loud voice, "A fire, a fire ! " " Where, where ?" cried 
 his auditors, whom he had roused from their slumber; 
 " in the place of punishment," added the preacher, " for 
 those who sleep under the ministry of the holy gospel." 
 
 Another preacher, of a different persuasion, more 
 remarkable for drowsy preachers, finding himself in the 
 
1 68 Thomas a Kcmpis. 
 
 same situation with his auditory, or, more Uterally speak- 
 ing, dor77tifory, suddenly stopped in his discourse, and 
 addressing himself in a whispering tone to a number of 
 noisy children in the gallery, * Silence, silence, children,' 
 said he, ' if you keep up such a noise, you will wake all 
 the old folks below.' " 
 
 Sydney Smith is reported to have said : — " Some men 
 preach as if they thought that sin is to be taken out of 
 man, as Eve was taken out of Adam, by casting him into 
 a profound slumber." 
 
 Thomas a Kempis narrates the following anecdote : — 
 
 "A certain brother once began to sleep a little at 
 matins, which the brother next to him observing, whis- 
 pered in his ear this one word. Hell, which, when he had 
 heard, terrified and aroused, he cast off all his desire of 
 slumber. Think, therefore, thou that art idle, of hell ; 
 and thou wilt not sleep in the choir through slothfulness." 
 
 Bishop Andrewes' sermons are rich in suggestive mate- 
 rials for the young and unaccustomed preacher. But 
 they must be used for this purpose with rare caution. A 
 youthful clergyman once found the state of his health to 
 be such, that he could not sit down to compose a homily 
 for the Sunday following. " Who am I ?" at last exclaimed 
 he, "that I should rack my reluctant brain to produce 
 futilities, when I have upon my shelves the discourses of 
 the sainted Andrewes?" He took down a volume, and 
 began to transcribe such passages as the following charac- 
 teristic specimens of the method of the grand old pre- 
 late : — 
 
 On the Birth of Christ at Ephrata. 
 " Even so, Lord; saith our Saviour, for so is thy plea- 
 
Style of Bishop Andrewes. 
 
 sure. And since it is His pleasure so to deal, it is His 
 further pleasure (and it is our lesson out of this Bethkheni 
 minima.) Even this, lie minima minimi.^ that we set not 
 little by that which is little, unless we will so set by Beth- 
 lehem and by Christ, and all. He will not have little 
 places viUified ; little Zoar will save the body, little Beth- 
 lehem, the soul ; nor have, saith Zacherie, dies parvus — 
 little times — despised, unless we despise this day, the feast 
 of humility. Nor have one of these httle ones offended. 
 Why? for Ephrata may make amends for, parvula, ex te 
 
 for tu, 
 
 ^ % % ^ ■^ ^ 
 
 " Will ye now to this inglorious Signe heare a glorious 
 Song; to this cratch of humilitie, a hymne of caelestiall 
 harmonic % If the Signe mislike you, ye cannot but like 
 the Song, and the Queer that sing it. The song I shall 
 not be able to reach to, will ye but see the Queer ? and 
 that shall serve for this time : for, by all meanes, before I 
 end, I would deal with somewhat that might ballance 
 this SigJie of His low estate. This the Evangelists never 
 faile to doe. Ever, they look to this point carefully. If 
 they mention ought that may offend, to wipe it away 
 streight, and the scandall of it, by some other high regard. 
 See you a sort of poore Shepherds ? Stay, and ye shall 
 see a troope of God's Angels. Heare ye one say, layd in 
 the cratch below ? Abide, and ye shall heare many sing, 
 Glorie on high., in honour of Him that lyeth in it." 
 
 " Vidisti vilia, (saith St Ambrose) audi mirifica : Were 
 the things meane you have seen T 
 
 " Wonderful shall they be, ye now shall heare and see 
 both. Vilescit prcEsepe, ecce Angelicis cantibus honoratur. 
 Is the Cratch meane 1 Meane as it is, it is honoured with 
 
lyo Style of BisJiop Andrnves. 
 
 the musike oi Angels ; it hath the whole Queer oi Heaven 
 to sing about it. This also will prove a signe, if it be well 
 looked into ; a counter-signe to the other : that of His 
 humilities ; this of His gloried 
 
 " There was then a new begetting, this day. And if a 
 new begetting, a new Paternitie and Fraternitie, both. By 
 the hodie genuite of Christfnas, how soone Hee was borne 
 of the Virgifh wombe. Hee became our brother (sinne, 
 except) subject to all our infirmities ; so to mortalitie and 
 even to death it selfe. And by death that brotherhood had 
 beene dissolved, but for this dayes rising. By the hodie 
 ge?mite of Easter, as soon as Hee was borne again of the 
 zvombe of the grave, Hee begins a new brotherhood, founds 
 a nQ\N fratei-nitie straight ; adopts us (wee see) anew againe, 
 by His fratres nieos ; and thereby, Hee that was primo- 
 genitiis a mortuis, hQcoxnts priniogenitus inter multos fratres : 
 when theyfrj-/ begotten froiit the dead, then the first begotten 
 in this respect among many brethren. Before Hee was 
 onrs : now wee are His. That was by the mother's side; 
 so Hee ours. This is by Fatre?n vestnim, the Fathers 
 side; so wee His. But halfe-brothers before ; never of 
 whole bloud, till now. Now, by Father and Mother both, 
 Fratres gei'viani, Fratres frater^-imi, we cannot be more." 
 
 The young man wrote on and on, saying to himself, 
 " who am I that I should dare to abridge or modernise 
 ' the giant of those days T' So he wrote out a whole 
 sermon, and preached it at the parish church. He kept 
 the people an hour beyond the usual time of dismissal. 
 One respectable citizen, whose dinner was sj^oiled in con- 
 sequence, said to another on leaving church : " Is this 
 Tractarianismr' " Awful, my dear sir, awful!" was the 
 immediate and vehement reply. 
 
Richard Hooker. 171 
 
 RICHARD HOOKER 
 
 Was one of three most celebrated preachers of the seven- 
 teenth century : Hooker, Jeremy Taylor, Barrow. Bishop 
 Heber, in his Ufe of Bishop Taylor, thus describes them : — 
 
 " Of such a triumvirate, who shall settle the precedence ? 
 Yet it may, perhaps, be not far from the truth to observe 
 that Hooker claims the foremost rank in sustained and 
 classic dignity of style, in political and pragmatical wisdom ; 
 that to Barrow the praise must be assigned of the closest 
 and clearest views, and of a taste the most controlled and 
 chastened ; but that in imagination, in interest, in that 
 which more properly and exclusively deserves the name of 
 genius, Taylor is to be placed before either. The first 
 awes most, the second convinces most, the third persuades 
 and delights most ; and (according to the decision of one 
 whose own rank among the ornaments of English literature 
 yet remains to be determined by posterity — Dr Parr) 
 Hooker is the object of our reverence, Barrow of our 
 admiration, and Jeremy Taylor of our love." 
 
 Take the following as a specimen of Richard Hooker's 
 majestic and sonorous periods : — 
 
 Music. 
 " Touching musical harmony, whether by instrument or 
 by voice, it being but of high and low in sounds a due 
 proportionable disposition, such, notwithstanding, is the 
 force thereof, and so pleasing effects it hath in that very 
 part of man which is most divine, that some have been 
 thereby induced to think that the soul itself by nature is, 
 or hath in it, harmony — a thing which delighteth all ages, 
 and beseemeth all states ; a thing as seasonable in grief 
 as in joy ; as decent being added into actions of greatest 
 
172 The Style of Hooker. 
 
 weight and solemnity, as being used when men most 
 sequester themselves from action. The reason hereof is 
 an admirable facility which music hath to express and 
 represent to the mind, more inwardly than any other 
 sensible mean, the very standing, rising and falling, the very 
 steps and inflections every way, the turns and varieties of 
 all passions whereunto the mind is subject, yea, so to 
 imitate them, that, whether it resemble unto us the same 
 state wherein our minds already are, or a clean contrary, 
 we are not more contentedly by the one confirmed than 
 changed and led away by the other. In harmony the very 
 image and character even of virtue and vice is perceived, 
 the mind delighted with their resemblances, and brought, 
 by having them often iterated, into a love of the things 
 themselves. For which cause there is nothing more con- 
 tagious and pestilent than some kinds of harmony, than 
 some nothing more strong and potent unto good. And that 
 there is such a difference of one kind from another, we 
 need no proof but our own experience, inasmuch as we 
 are at the hearing of some more inclined unto sorrow and 
 heaviness, of some more mollified and softened in mind ; 
 one kind apter to stay and settle us, another to move and 
 stir our affections. There is that draweth to a marvellous 
 grave and sober mediocrity ; there is also that carrieth as 
 it were into ecstacies, filling the mind with an heavenly joy, 
 and, for the time, in a manner severing it from the body ; 
 so that, although we lay altogether aside the consideration 
 of ditty or matter, the very harmony of sounds being 
 framed in due sort, and carried from the ear to the spiritual 
 faculties of our souls, is by a native puissance and efficacy 
 greatly available to bring to a perfect temper whatsoever 
 is there troubled ; apt as well to quicken the spirits as to 
 
The Style of Hooker. 1 7 3 
 
 allay that which is too eager, sovereign against melancholy 
 and despair, forcible to draw forth tears of devotion if the 
 mind be such as can yield them, able both to move and 
 to moderate all affections. The Prophet David having 
 therefore singular knowledge, not in poetry alone, but in 
 music also, judged them both to be things most necessary 
 for the House of God, [and] left behind him to that purpose 
 a number of divinely indited poems ] and was further the 
 author of adding unto poetry melody in public prayer, 
 melody both vocal and instrumental, for the raising up of 
 men's hearts, and the sweetening of their affections towards 
 God— in which considerations the Church of Christ doth 
 likewise at this present day retain it as an ornament to 
 God's service, and an help to our own devotion. They 
 which, under pretence of the law ceremonial abrogated, 
 require the abrogation of instrumental music, approving, 
 nevertheless, the use of vocal melody to remain, must 
 show some reason wherefore the one should be thought a 
 legal ceremony, and not the other. In church music, 
 curiosity and ostentation of art, wanton or light, or unsuit- 
 able harmony, such as only pleaseth the ear, and doth not 
 naturally serve to the very kind and degree of those 
 im.pressions which the m.atter that goeth with it leaveth, or is 
 apt to leave, in men's minds, doth rather blemish and dis- 
 grace that we do, than add either beauty or furtherance 
 unto it. On the other side, these faults prevented the 
 force and efficacy of the thing itself, w^hen it drowneth not 
 utterly, but fitly suiteth with matter altogether sounding to 
 the praise of God, is in truth most admirable, and doth 
 much edify, if not the understanding, because it teacheth 
 not, yet surely the affection, because therein it worketh 
 much. They must have hearts very dry and very tough, 
 
174 Specime?is from Jeremy Taylor. 
 
 from whom the melody of Psalms doth not sometime draw 
 that wherein a mind religiously affected delighteth. Be it 
 as Rabanus Maurus observeth, that at the first the Church 
 in this exercise was more simple and plain than we are ; 
 that their singing was Httle more than only a melodious kind 
 of pronunciation ; that the custom which we now use was 
 not instituted so much for their cause, which are spiritual, 
 as to the end that into grosser and heavier minds, whom 
 bare words do not easily move, the sweetness of melody 
 might make some entrance for good things. St Bain him- 
 self, acknowledging as much, did not think that from such 
 inventions the least jot of estimation and credit thereby 
 should be derogated : ' For (saith he) whereas the Holy 
 Spirit saw that mankind is unto virtue hardly drawn, and 
 that righteousness is the less accompted of by reason of 
 the proneness of our affections to that which delighteth, it 
 pleased the wisdom of the same spirit to borrow from 
 melody that pleasure which, mingled with heavenly 
 mysteries, cau.seth the smoothness and softness of that 
 which toucheth the ear, to convey, as it were by stealth, 
 the treasure of good things into man's mind. To this 
 purpose w^ere those harmonious tunes of the Psalms devised 
 for us, that they which are either in years but young, or 
 touching perfection of virtue, as yet not grown to ripeness, 
 might, when they think they sing, learn. Oh the wise con- 
 ceit of that heavenly Teacher, which hath by His skill 
 found out a way, that doing those things wherein we 
 delight we may also learn that whereby we profit." 
 
 Let the following extracts from Bishop Jeremy Taylor 
 suffice : 
 
 Patience, 
 
 ** It is but reasonable to bear that accident patiently 
 
His Fidy aiid Eloquence. 175 
 
 which God sends, since impatience does but entangle us, 
 hke the fluttering of a bird in a net, but cannot at all ease 
 our trouble, or prevent the accident; it must be run 
 through, and therefore it were better we compose ourselves 
 to a patient than to a troubled and miserable suffering." 
 
 P)'ayer. 
 " Prayer is the peace of our spirit ; the stillness of our 
 thoughts ; the evenness of recollection ; the seat of medi- 
 tation ; the rest of cares, and the calm of our tempest. 
 Prayer is the issue of a great mind, of untroubled 
 thoughts ; it is the daughter of charity, and the sister of 
 meekness." 
 
 Perfection. 
 
 " There is a sort of God's dear servants who walk in per- 
 fectness ; and they have a degree of charity and divine- 
 knowledge more than we can discourse of, and more cer 
 tain than the demonstrations of geometry, brighter than 
 the sun, and in deficient as the light of heaven. As a 
 flame touches a flame and combines into splendour and 
 to glory ; so is the spirit of a man united unto Christ by 
 the Spirit of God." 
 
 Afiger, 
 " Humility is the most excellent natural cure for anger in 
 the world ; for he that by daily considering his own in- 
 firmities and failings makes the error of his neighbour or 
 servant to be his own case, and remembers that he daily 
 needs God's pardon, and his brother's charity, will not be 
 apt to rage at the levities, or misfortunes, or indiscretions 
 of another greater than those which he considers that he 
 is very frequently and more inexcusably guilty." 
 
176 G7'eat P7'eachers love Prova'hs. 
 
 Theology — Charjcferisfics of. 
 
 " Theology is rather a divine life than a divine know- 
 ledge." 
 
 Meditation^ the Tongue of the Soul. 
 
 " Meditation is the tongue of the soul and the language 
 of our spirit ; and our wandering thoughts in prayer are 
 but the neglects of meditation and recessions from that 
 duty ; and according as we neglect meditation, so are our 
 prayers imperfect, meditation being the soul of prayer and 
 the intention of our spirit." 
 
 Coi7ipany — Choice of. 
 
 " No man can be provident of his time, who is not 
 prudent in the choice of his company." 
 
 All great preachers have abounded in proverbs. St 
 Bernard once said, " Love me, love my dog." Dr San- 
 derson, urging on his hearers the way in which a man 
 sinks in iniquity, exclaimed, " Over shoes, over boots." 
 Jeremy Taylor has the following passage : — " The crime 
 of backbiting is the poison of charity ; and yet so common 
 that it is passed into a proverb, ' After a good dinner let 
 us sit down and backbite our neighbours,' " Archbishop 
 Trench quotes many proverbs, which have been utilised 
 by Yorkshire and other northern preachers. For instance : 
 " The devil's com grinds all to bran ; " " God's mill grinds 
 slow, but it grinds to powder;" " What we weave in time 
 we must wear in eternity ;" " When every one sweeps be- 
 fore his own door, the street is soon clean." St Augustine 
 says, " There is one case of deathbed repentance re- 
 corded," — alluding of course to the thief on the cross, — 
 "that no one should despair; and OJily one, that no one 
 slionld presume." 
 
The Practice of Reading S£rmons. 177 
 
 Reading Sermons, 
 *' Behold the picture ! is it like % Like whom ? 
 The things that mount the rostrum with a skip, 
 And then skip down again : pronounce a text ; 
 Cry, Hem ! and reading what they never wrote, 
 Just fifteen minutes, huddle up their work, 
 And with a well-bred whisper, close the scene !" 
 
 COWPER. 
 
 " The practice of writing and reading sermons from the 
 pulpit, now so prevalent, and which is thought to act as a 
 check on the inane fluency and mere word-stringing of 
 some popular orators, was publicly and authoritatively 
 denounced in the time of Charles II., who issued to the 
 University of Cambridge the following ordinance on the 
 subject : — 
 
 " ' Vice-Chancellor and Gentlemen, — Whereas His 
 Majesty is informed that the practice of reading ser- 
 mons is generally taken up by the preachers before the 
 University, and therefore continues even before himself; 
 His Majesty hath commanded me to signify to you 
 his pleasure, that the said practice, which took its begin- 
 ning from the disorders of the times, be wholly laid 
 aside ; and that the said preachers deliver their sermons, 
 both in Latin and English, by memory, without book ; 
 as being a way of preaching which His Majesty judgeth 
 most agreeable to the use of foreign churches, to the cus- 
 tom of the University heretofore, and to the nature of that 
 holy exercise. And that His Majesty's command in these 
 premises, may be duly regarded and observed, his further 
 pleasure is. That the names of all such ecclesiastical per- 
 sons as shall continue the present supine and slothful 
 WAY OF preaching, be, from time to time, signified to me 
 
 M 
 
178 Dr Sanderson's Nervousness. 
 
 by the Vice- Chancellor for the time being, on pain of His 
 Majesty's displeasure. Oct. 8, 1674. — Monmouth/ 
 
 " To condemn, however, without reserve, the practice of 
 reading sermons, is neither wise nor expedient. The 
 danger of a pastoral ministry, which continues to preach 
 extempore in the same pulpit, for, perhaps, twenty or thirty 
 years, is desultoriness, sameness, and insipidity. Intellec- 
 tual idleness is generally the result of the practice. It 
 must also be remembered that the reading of sermons is 
 often a matter of necessity rather than choice. Dr San- 
 derson, so well known for his ' Cases of Conscience,' 
 had an extraordinary memory, but was so bashful and 
 timorous, that it was of no use in the delivery of his ser- 
 mons, which he was in a manner compelled to read. Dr 
 Hammond being once on a visit to him, laboured long to 
 persuade him to trust to his excellent memory, and to give 
 up the habit of reading. Dr Sanderson promised to make 
 the experiment ; and as he went to church on the Sunday 
 following, he placed in Dr Hammond's hands the manuscript 
 of the sermon he intended to dehver. The sermon was a 
 very short one ; but before the doctor had gone through 
 a third part of it, he became disordered, incoherent, and 
 almost incapable of finishing. On his return he said with 
 much earnestness to Dr Hammond, ' Good Doctor, give 
 me my sermon and know, that neither you, nor any man 
 living, shall ever persuade me to preach again without 
 book.' Dr Hammond replied, 'Good Doctor, be not 
 angry; for if ever I persuade you to preach again without 
 book, I will give you leave to burn all those that I am 
 master of' 
 
 " Old Aubrey says, that when he was a freshman at the 
 university, and ' heard Dr Sanderson read his first lecture, 
 
Dr Sander S071S Sermons. 179 
 
 he was out in the Lord's Prayer.' Many divines always 
 have the words of it written in large characters before 
 them, when they go into the pulpit, for fear of making a 
 sUp. One eminent bishop always blundered in the final 
 benediction, unless he had his prayer-book open on the 
 cushion of the pulpit. 
 
 "When Dr Sanderson's sermons were printed in 1632, it 
 was remarked that the best sermons which were ever read, 
 had never been preached. 
 
 " Charles II. asked Dr Stillingfleet, why he read his 
 sermons before him, and preached without book else- 
 where. The doctor said, preaching before so great an 
 audience made him distrust his own abilities. But in 
 return, how is it that your Majesty reads your speeches in 
 Parliament, having no such reason ? * Why (said the 
 king) the truth is, I have asked my subjects so often for so 
 much money, that I am really ashamed to look them in 
 the face.' 
 
 " It is recorded of the great Massillon that he once 
 stopped short in the middle of a sermon, from defect of 
 memory, and that the same thing happened, through 
 access of apprehension, to two other preachers, whom 
 Massillon went in different parts of the same day to hear. 
 
 " When another distinguished French orator fell into a 
 similar difficulty, he adroitly requested the immediate 
 prayers of the congregation for a person supposed to be 
 near death. To this solemn task the people addressed 
 themselves in silence, and the preacher had time to collect 
 his thoughts. 
 
 " An anecdote is told of a Gascon preacher who, after 
 ascending the pulpit, stood scratching his head for a 
 minute or two endeavouring to collect his thoughts, and 
 
i8o Dr Field. 
 
 then quietly said to the congregation, * Ah ! my friends, 
 you have lost a capital sermon/ and quitted the pulpit." 
 
 DR FIELD, 
 
 Dean of Gloucester, was a learned divine of the seven- 
 teenth century, whom Fuller has enrolled among his 
 worthies. He says of the Dean, " whose memory dwelleth 
 like a field, whom the Lord hath blessed." He often 
 preached before James I., especially in his progress through 
 Hampshire in 1609. The first time his Majesty heard 
 him, he observed in the same punning spirit with Fuller, 
 and which was the prevalent characteristic of the age, 
 " This is a field for the Lord to dwell in." The king 
 gave him the promise of a bishopric, but never fulfilled it. 
 When he heard of the dean's death, his conscience appears 
 to have smitten him. He expressed some regret, and said, 
 " I should have done more for that man." 
 
 JOHN KING 
 
 Was another eminent divine, whom James L used to style 
 the KING of preachers. He became bishop of London in 
 161 1. After his elevation to the mitre, he never missed 
 delivering a sermon on Sunday, when his health permitted. 
 Lord Chief-Justice Coke used to say of this eloquent pre- 
 late, " that he was the best preacher in the Star Chamber 
 in his time." 
 
 ANDREW CANT. 
 
 In the churchyard of Aberdeen lies one Andrew Cant, 
 minister of Aberdeen, from whom the Spectator derives 
 the word to cant : but, in all probability, Andrew canted 
 no more than the rest of his brethren, for he lived in a 
 
Aiidreiv Cant. i8i 
 
 cantmg2igQ^ Charles I.'s time. Still Andrew did not cant a 
 little, for it appears that when a certain Castle was be- 
 sieged by the Marquis of Montrose, it was defended by 
 the Earl Marechal, by the persuasion of Andrew Cant. 
 The Marquis, according to the barbarous custom of the 
 time, set fire to the country around, which when Andrew 
 saw, he told the noble owner, that the flames of his houses 
 were a siveet-snielling savour in the sight of the Lord — sup- 
 posing that his Lordship suffered for righteousness' sake. 
 
 DR THOMAS, 
 
 Some time Bishop of Worcester, was, before his elevation 
 to that see, vicar of Laugharn. In the year 1645 ^ party 
 of the Parliamentarian cavalry came to the village, and 
 inquired whether its Popish vicar was still there, and 
 whether he continued reading the Hturgy, and praying for 
 the queen % One of them added that he would go to 
 church next Sunday, and if Mr Thomas dared to pray for 
 
 that , he would certainly pistol him. Information of 
 
 the threat having been conveyed to the vicar, his friends 
 earnestly besought him to absent himself; but thinking 
 that this would be a cowardly deviation from his duty, he 
 resolutely refused. He had no sooner begun the service 
 than the soldiers came, and placed themselves in the pew 
 next to him ; and when he prayed for the queen one of 
 them snatched the book out of his hand, and threw it at 
 his head, exclaiming, with a coarse expression : " What 
 
 do you mean by praying for that % " The preacher 
 
 bore the insult with so much Christian meekness and com- 
 posure, that the soldier who had been guilty of it, imme- 
 diately slunk away ashamed and confused. Mr Thomas 
 continued the service, and delivered an excellent discourse 
 
1 82 Dr Isaac Barrow. 
 
 with great spirit and animation. On his return home, he 
 found the soldiers waiting to beg his pardon, and desire 
 his prayers to God on their behalf. The Parliamentary 
 Committee soon afterwards deprived this resolute pastor 
 of his living ; but on the Restoration of Charles II., he 
 was rewarded for his brave loyalty. He was appointed 
 Bishop of Worcester. He faithfully served the Church 
 and State in this see until the Revolution of 1688, when 
 refusing to take the oath of allegiance to King William 
 III., he would have been turned out of his see, had not 
 death intervened to spare him this indignity. His objec- 
 tions to the oath were conscientious, and could not be 
 overcome. In a letter to a friend, he says : " If my 
 heart do not deceive me, and God's grace do not fail 
 me, I think I could suffer at a stake rather than take this 
 oath!" 
 
 A curious letter is extant, addressed by Archbishop 
 Bancroft to this prelate in 1683, in which the former com- 
 plains of a custom which prevailed at that time, and was 
 long afterwards continued, of having a sermon preached 
 in the nave of the cathedral, while the prayers were read 
 in the choir. The origin of the custom was, that, as there 
 used to be no sermon in the parish churches, the in- 
 habitants of the various parishes might, after their own 
 prayers were concluded, attend the sermon of some emi- 
 nent preacher in the cathedral. 
 
 DR ISAAC BARROW 
 
 Was remarkable not only for the excellence, but the ex- 
 traordinary length of his sermons. In preaching the 
 annual Spital sermon before the Lord Mayor and the 
 corporation, he spent upwards of three hours and a half. 
 
The Length of his Sermons. 183 
 
 Being asked, after he came down from the pulpit, if he 
 was not tired, he rephed, " Yes, indeed, I began to grow 
 weary of standing so long." 
 
 He was once requested by Atterbury, the Bishop of 
 Rochester, then Dean of Westminster, to preach at the 
 Abbey, but not to make too long a sermon, for that the 
 congregation preferred short ones, and wxre accustomed 
 to them. The doctor replied, " My lord, I will show 
 you my sermon," and immediately gave it to the bishop. 
 The sermon was divided into two parts, one treating on 
 slander, and the other on lies. The dean earnestly desired 
 him to preach the first part of it only; and to this he 
 consented, though not without some reluctance. This 
 portion of his discourse occupied in the delivery an hour 
 and a half. 
 
 On another occasion, Dr Barrow preached in the Abbey 
 on a holiday. It was then customary for the servants of 
 tlie church on all festivals, except Sundays, between the 
 sermon and the evening prayer, to show the tombs and 
 monuments in the Abbey to such strangers as would pur- 
 chase the privilege for twopence. Perceiving Dr Barrow 
 in the pulpit after the hour was past, and fearing to lose 
 that time in heariftg, which they thought they could more 
 profitably employ in 7'eceivi7tg, the servants of the church 
 became impatient, and most indecently caused the organ 
 to be struck up against him ; nor would they cease playing 
 until the doctor was silenced, which was not until he 
 despaired of being heard, or of exhausting the organ 
 blower. 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to observe that the length of 
 Dr Barrow's sermons was their only fault. "In him," 
 says that excellent critic, Dr Blair, *'one admires more 
 
184 Barrow's Prodigious Invention. 
 
 the prodigious fecundity of his invention, and the uncom- 
 mon strength of his conceptions, than the felicity of his 
 execution, or his talent in composition. We see a genius 
 far surpassing the common, peculiar, indeed, almost to 
 himself; but that genius often shooting wild, and un- 
 chastised by any discipline or study of eloquence. On 
 every subject he multiplies words with an overflowing 
 copiousness ; but it is always a torrent of strong ideas and 
 significant expressions which he pours forth. Of the truth 
 of the last observation, the following definition of wit in a 
 sermon against foolish talking and jesting will furnish a 
 pleasing specimen : — ' Wit,' says he, ' is a thing so versa- 
 tile and multiform, appearing in so many shapes, so many 
 postures, so many garbs, so variously apprehended by 
 several eyes and judgments, that it seemeth no less hard 
 to settle a clear and certain notion thereof, than to make 
 a portrait of Proteus, or to define the figure of the fleeting 
 air. Sometimes it lieth in pert allusions to a known story, 
 or in seasonable application of a trivial saying, or in forg- 
 ing an apposite tale. Sometimes it playeth on words and 
 phrases, taking advantage from the ambiguity of their 
 sense, or the aflinity of their sound. Sometimes it is 
 wrapped up in a dress of humorous expression. Some- 
 times it lurketh under an odd similitude. Sometimes it is 
 lodged in a sly question ; in a smart answer; in a quirkish 
 reason ; in a shrewd intimation ; in cunningly diverting, 
 or smartly retorting, an objection. Sometimes it is couched 
 in a bold scheme of speech ; in a tart irony, or in a lusty 
 hyperbole ; in a startling metaphor, in a plausible recon- 
 ciUng of contradictions, or in acute nonsense. Sometimes 
 a scenical representation of persons or things, a counter- 
 feit speech, a mimical look or gesture, passeth for it. 
 
Dr Harris of HanwelL 185 
 
 Sometimes an affected simplicity, sometimes a presump- 
 tuous bluntness, gives it being. Sometimes it riseth only 
 from a lucky hitting of what is strange ; sometimes from 
 a crafty wresting obvious matter to the purpose. Often it 
 consisteth in one knows not what, and springeth up, one 
 can hardly tell how. Its ways are unaccountable and inex- 
 plicable, being answerable to the numberless ravings of 
 fancy and windings of language. It raiseth admiration, as 
 signifying a nimble sagacity of apprehension, a special 
 felicity of invention, a vivacity of spirit, a reach of wit 
 more than vulgar ; it seemeth to argue a rare quickness of 
 parts, that one can fetch in remote conceits applicable ; 
 a notable skill, that can dexterously accommodate them to 
 the purpose before him, together with a lively briskness of 
 humour, not apt to damp those sportful flashes of imagina- 
 tion. It also procureth delight by gratifying curiosity with 
 its rareness, or semblance of difficulty ; by diverting the 
 mind from its road of serious thoughts ; by instilling gaiety 
 and airiness of spirits ; by provoking to such dispositions 
 of gaiety, in way of emulation or complaisance ; and by 
 seasoning matters otherwise distasteful or insipid with an 
 unusual and strong grateful savour." 
 
 DR HARRIS, 
 
 The minister of Hanwell during the civil wars, frequently 
 had mihtary officers quartered at his house. A party of 
 them, being sadly unmindful of the respect due to the 
 presence of a Christian minister, if not to Christianity 
 itself, indulged in the vulgar habit of profane swearing. 
 The doctor noticed this, and on the following Sunday 
 preached from these words : " Above all things, my 
 brethren, swear not." The soldiers were greatly enraged. 
 
i86 Dr Lyons, Bishop of Cork. 
 
 They considered that the sermon was directly aimed at 
 them, and they swore that they would shoot Dr Harris, if 
 he ever discoursed on the subject again. He was not, 
 however, to be intimidated. On the following Sunday he 
 not only preached from the same text, but inveighed in 
 still stronger terms against the odious vice of taking pro- 
 fane oaths. As he was preaching, a soldier levelled his 
 carbine at him ; but he went on to the conclusion of his 
 sermon without the slightest apparent hesitation or fear. 
 His courage was not unrewarded, for they afterwards 
 treated him with the profoundest reverence. 
 
 DR LYONS, 
 
 Who was preferred to the bishopric of Cork, Cloyne, and 
 Ross, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, held the benefice 
 for twenty years, though he never preached but one 
 sermon, and that was on the death of her Majesty. He 
 then thought it his duty to pay the last honours to his 
 royal mistress, and, accordingly, he ascended the pulpit of 
 Christ-Church, Cork, where he delivered an able discourse 
 on the sad uncertainty of life, and the great and amiable 
 qualities of the Queen. He is said to have concluded in 
 the following warm but whimsical manner : — " Let those 
 that feel this loss deplore with me on this melancholy 
 occasion ; but if there be any that hear me that have 
 secretly wished for this event, (as, perhaps, there may be,) 
 they have now got their wish, and may it do them all the 
 good they deserve ! " 
 
 The bishop's aversion to preaching is said to have arisen 
 from his not having been originally intended for the Chris- 
 tian ministry. His promotion was altogether singular. The 
 tradition concerning it is, that he was captain of a ship of 
 
Dr Robert South. 187 
 
 war, and distinguished himself so gallantly in several 
 actions against the Spaniards, that on being introduced to 
 the Queen, she told him he should have the first vacancy 
 that offered. The honest captain, who understood the 
 Queen literally^ soon after hearing of a vacancy in 
 the See of Cork, immediately set out for Court, and 
 claimed the royal promise. The Queen, astonished at 
 the request, for a time remonstrated against the impro- 
 priety of it, and said that she could never confer a mitre 
 on a naval captain. In answer, he pleaded the royal pro- 
 mise, and relied on it. The Queen then said that she 
 would take a few days to consider the matter. She found 
 that he was a devout man, of high moral character, as 
 well as a commander of brilliant intrepidity. So she sent 
 for him, and conferred on him the bishopric, saying, 
 " She hoped he would take as good care of the Church as 
 he had done of the State." But the question arises, AVas 
 he ordained deacon and priest by accumulation, and after- 
 wards consecrated bishop % 
 
 DR ROBERT SOUTH 
 
 Was one of the most celebrated preachers of the seven- 
 teenth century. Many interesting anecdotes are told 
 concerning him. On one occasion he preached, as chap- 
 lain to Charles II., before the Court, which, at that 
 disastrous period, was composed of the most profligate 
 men of the nation. He soon perceived that his reluctant 
 hearers were fast asleep. He stopped short in his har- 
 angue, and changing his tone of voice into one of solemn 
 remonstrance, he called out to Lord Lauderdale three 
 times. His Lordship stood up. " My Lord," said South, 
 within imitable dignity, "I am sorry to interrupt your 
 
Dr Robert South, 
 
 repose, but I must beg of you that you will not snore 
 quite so loudly, lest you awaken his Majesty." 
 
 On another occasion, when preaching before the King, 
 he chose for his text these words : " The lot is cast into 
 the lap, but the disposing of it is of the Lord." In this 
 sermon he introduced three remarkable instances of unex- 
 pected advancement : — 
 
 " Who that looked upon Agathocles first handling the 
 clay, and making pots under his father, and afterwards 
 turning robber, could have thought that from such a con- 
 dition he should have come to be King of Sicily ? 
 
 "Who that had seen Massaniello, a poor fisherman 
 with his red cap and his angle, would have reckoned it 
 possible to see such a pitiful thing, within a week after, 
 shining in his cloth of gold, and with a word or nod 
 absolutely commanding the whole city of Naples % 
 
 " And who that beheld such a bankrupt, beggarly fellow 
 as Cromwell, first entering the Parliament House with a 
 threadbare torn cloak, greasy hat, (perhaps neither of them 
 paid for,) could have suspected that in the space of so few 
 years, he should, by the murder of one king, and the 
 banishment of another, ascend the throne f At which 
 the king fell into a fit of laughter; and turning to Dr 
 South's patron, Mr Lawrence Hyde, afterwards Lord 
 Rochester, said, " Odds fish. Lory, your chaplain must be 
 a bishop, therefore put me in mind of him at the next 
 death." 
 
 Bishop Kennet says of South, that he " laboured very 
 much to compose his sermons ; and, in the pulpit, worked 
 up his body when he came to a piece of wit, or any 
 notable saying." 
 
 His wit was certainly the least of his recommendations, 
 
His Style. 189 
 
 though it was sometimes fearfully pungent and sarcastic. 
 He sometimes indulged in it to excess, and violated the 
 awful sanctity of the pulpit. Sherlock is said to have 
 accused him of employing the doubtful weapon of wit in 
 a controversy on the Holy Trinity. South made but a 
 sorry and unsatisfactory reply : " Had it pleased Provi- 
 dence to have made you a lock, what would you have 
 done ?" 
 
 In the year 1680, when Dr South was rector of Islip 
 in Oxfordshire, a small chapel in the gift of the rector 
 became vacant. Dr South's curate, who, like too many 
 curates at present, performed the whole duty of the parish 
 without an adequate remuneration, applied for the vacant 
 situation. This was refused. The following Sunday being 
 the fifteenth day of the month, he devoutly expressed his 
 feelings in the regular course of the service by thus read- 
 ing the seventh verse of the seventy-fifth psalm, " Promo- 
 tion cometh neither from the east, nor from the west, nor 
 from thee (the). South." The doctor conceded to wit what 
 merit had failed to obtain, and the curate found himself 
 in possession of the wished-for dignity — " passing rich, 
 with forty pounds a year." 
 
 The following passages are specimens of his nobler and 
 better method : — 
 
 Man formed in the image of God. 
 " Such was his understandings his noblest faculty. It was 
 then sublime, clear, aspiring, and, as it were, the soul's 
 upper region, lofty and serene, free from the vapours and 
 disturbances of the inferior affections. It was the leading, 
 controlling faculty ; all the passions wore the colours of 
 reason ; it was not consul, but dictator. 
 
190 Dr SoiitUs Style. 
 
 " Discourse was then almost as quick as intuition ; it 
 was nimble in proposing, firm in concluding; it could 
 sooner determine than now it can dispute. Like the sun, 
 it had both light and agility; it knew no rest, but in 
 motion ; no quiet, but in activity ; it did not so properly 
 apprehend as irradiate the object ; not so much find 
 as make things intelligible : it did arbitrate upon the 
 several reports of sense, and all the varieties of imagina- 
 tion ; not like the drowsy judge, only hearing, but also 
 directing their verdict. In fine, it was vegete, quick, and 
 lively; open as the day, untainted as the morning, full 
 of the innocence and sprightliness of youth : it gave the 
 soul a bright and full view into all things, and was not 
 only a window, but itself a prospect. Briefly, there is as 
 much difference between the clear representation of the 
 understanding then, and the obscure discoveries that it 
 makes now, as there is between the prospect of a case- 
 ment and of a keyhole." 
 
 Adam a Philosophej'. 
 
 " Adam came into the world a philosopher, which suffi- 
 ciently appeared by his writing the nature of things upon 
 their names. He could view essences in themselves, and 
 read forms without the comment of their respective pro- 
 perties ; he could see consequents yet dormant in their 
 principles, and effects yet unborn, and in the womb of 
 their causes ; his understanding could almost pierce into 
 future contingents, his conjectures improving even to pro- 
 l^hecy or the certainties of prediction ; till his fall, it was 
 ignorant of nothing but of sin ; or at least it rested in the 
 notion, without the smart of the experiment. Could any 
 difficulty have been proposed, the resolution would have 
 
His Description of Adam before the Fall. 191 
 
 been as early as the proposal ; it could not have had time 
 to settle into doubt. Like a better Archimedes, the 
 issue of all his inquiries was an eU^^jxa, an su^^?ca, the off- 
 spring of his brain without the sweat of his brow. Study 
 was not then a duty — night watchings were needless ; the 
 light of reason wanted not the assistance of a candle. 
 This is the doom of fallen man ; to labour in the fire ; to 
 seek truth in profunda; to exhaust his time and impair his 
 health, and perhaps to spin out his days and himself into 
 one pitiful, controverted conclusion. There was then no 
 poring, no struggling with memory — no straining for in- 
 vention ; his faculties were quick and expedite ; they 
 answered without knocking ; they were ready upon the 
 first summons ; there was freedom and firmness in all 
 their operations. I confess it is difficult for us, who date 
 our ignorance from our first being, and were still bred up 
 with the same infirmities about us with which we were 
 born, to raise our thoughts and imagination to those 
 intellectual perfections that attended our nature in the 
 time of innocence, as it is for a peasant, bred up in the 
 obscurities of a cottage, to fancy in his mind the unseen 
 splendours of a court. But by rating positives by their 
 privatives and other arts of reason, by v/hich discourse 
 supphes the want of the reports of sense, we may collect 
 the excellency of the understanding then, by the glorious 
 remainders of it now, and guess at the stateliness of the 
 building by the magnificence of its ruins. All these arts, 
 rarities, and inventions, which vulgar minds gaze at, the 
 ingenious pursue, and all admire, are but the reliques of 
 an intellect defaced with sin and time. We admire it 
 now, only a.s antiquaries do a piece of old coin, for the 
 stamp it once bore, and not for those vanishing linea- 
 
192 Charles II. and Dr South. 
 
 ments and disappearing draughts that remain upon it at 
 present. And certainly that must needs have been very- 
 glorious, the decays of which are so admirable. He that 
 is comely when old and decrepid, surely was very beau- 
 tiful when he was young. An Aristotle was but the 
 rubbish of an Adam, and Athens but the rudiments of 
 paradise." 
 
 An anecdote is related of South which illustrates the 
 condensation of his style. On one occasion Charles II., 
 complimenting him on his sermon, said, *'I wish you 
 had had time to make it longer." The epigrammatic 
 South replied, " I wish, sire, I had had time to make it 
 shorter." 
 
 The witty and caustic Dean Swift found a party once 
 indifferent to his observations. He exclaimed with con- 
 siderable petulance, " My remarks could not be less 
 attended to if they were delivered from the pulpit." 
 
 The following pithy lines were especially appHcable to 
 the sermons of the seventeenth century : — 
 
 " Some take a text sublime and fraught with sense. 
 But quickly fall into impertinence. 
 On trifles eloquent with great delight 
 They flourish out on some strange mystic rite ; 
 But to subdue the passions, or direct, 
 And all Ufe's moral duties, they neglect. 
 Most preachers err, except the wiser i^^N, 
 Thinking estabhshed doctrines, therefore, true. 
 Others, too fond of novelty and schemes, 
 Amuse the world with airy, idle dreams. 
 Thus too much faith or too presuming wit 
 Are rocks where bigots or freethinkers split. 
 
Quaint Titles of Sermons. 193 
 
 'Tis not enough that what you say is true, 
 
 To make us feel it you must feel it too, 
 
 Show yourself warm, and that will warmth impart 
 
 To every hearer's sympathising heart." 
 
 The Titles 
 Of some seventeenth and eighteenth century sermons 
 were strange, and to modern apprehension comical and 
 irreverent : — " Baruch's Sore Gently Opened, and the 
 Salve Skilfully Applied." " The Church's Bowel Com- 
 plaint." '' The Snuffers of Divine Love." " The Spiritual 
 Mustard Pot to Make the Soul Sneeze with Devotion." " A 
 Pack of Cards to Win Christ," &c. " A Spiritual Spicerie ; 
 containing sundrie sweet Tractates of Devotion and Piety," 
 written by Richard Brathwaithe, pubHshed in 1638; with an 
 odd quotation from Canticles, c. i. 12, andc. v. 13. "The 
 White Wolfe, a sermon," 1627. "The Nail Hit on the 
 Head," 1644. " The Wheel Turned/' 1647. " Love and 
 Fear, a marriage sermon," 1668. "Two Sticks made 
 One," sermon, 1691. "The Divine Lanthorne," 1686. 
 " The Best Fee Simple," 1657. And a religious book by 
 one Homer, called Cuckoldom's Glory, or the Horns of 
 the Righteous exalted, with an emblematical engraved 
 frontispiece. " Crumbs of Comfort for Chickens of 
 Grace." And again "Deep things of God, or milk and 
 strong meat containing spiritual and experimental re- 
 marks, and meditations, suited to the cases of babes, 
 young men, and fathers," &c , i2mo. 2s. boards, Matthews, 
 1788. "A box of precious ointment for souls' sores." 
 " A Subpoena of the Star Chamber of Heaven," 1623. "A 
 Funeral Handkerchief, to which are added, &c., 1691." 
 "A Divine Balance to weigh religious Fasts in, 1643." 
 
 N 
 
194 Lmvrence Stei^ne. 
 
 " Leap Year Lectures : a collection of Discourses de- 
 livered on the 29th of February to a select society; 
 committed to the press, because improper for the Pulpit." 
 London: Bladon, 4to, 1777. "The Lancashire Levite 
 Rebuked, a discourse/' &c., 1699. '' A Cluster of Grapes 
 taken out of the Basket of the Canaanitish woman," 1660. 
 " Matches lighted at the Divine Fire." " The Gun of 
 Penitence." A volume containing extracts, among others, 
 from the sermons of the fathers, is called, " The Shop of 
 the Spiritual Apothecary." Another is called, " Sixpenny- 
 worth of the Divine Spirit." But what shall we say to the 
 following % " Some fine Biscuits baked in the oven of 
 Charity, carefully conserved for the Chickens of the 
 Church, the Sparrows of the Spirit, and the sweet Swallows 
 of Salvation." 
 
 LAWRENCE STERNE 
 
 Being once in company with three or four clergymen, 
 related a circumstance which happened to him in the 
 city of York. After preaching at the cathedral, an old 
 woman, whom he observed sitting on the stairs of the 
 pulpit, stopped him as he came down and begged to 
 know where she should have the honour of hearing him 
 preach on the next Sunday. Sterne having mentioned 
 the name of the church, found her seated in exactly the 
 same manner on that day, when she put the same ques- 
 tion to him as before. The following Sunday he was to 
 preach four miles out of York, which he told her \ and to 
 his great surprise he found her there too, and that the 
 same question was put to him as he came down from the 
 pulpit. "On which," he added, "I took for my text 
 these words, expecting to find my old woman as before, 
 
Sterne's Sermon on Time and Chance. 195 
 
 *I will grant the request of this poor widow, lest by 
 her often coming, she weary me/ " One of the company 
 immediately replied ; " Why, Sterne, you omitted the most 
 remarkable part of the passage, which is, ' though I 
 neither fear God nor regard man ! ' " 
 
 A lady once attending York races, met with the strange 
 and eccentric humorist. He rode up to the side of her 
 coach, and accosted her with the words, " Well, Madam, 
 on which horse do you bet % " " Sir," she replied, " if you 
 can tell me which is the worst horse, I will bet upon 
 that ! " " But why. Madam," asked Sterne, " do you 
 make so altogether strange a choice % " " Because," 
 replied the gentlewoman, "you know that the race is not 
 always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong ! " Sterne 
 was so much pleased with this reply, that he went home 
 and wrote from that text his well known sermon on time 
 
 AND CHANCE. 
 
 Sterne's sermons abound in curious surprises and start- 
 ling antitheses : for instance, that one in Eccles. vii. 2, 3 : — 
 
 " // is better to go to the house of mourning than to the house 
 of f easting r 
 " That I de7ty ; — but let us hear the wise man's reasoning 
 upon it, — ' for that is the end of all men, and the living 
 loill lay it to his heart : sorrow is better than laughter : ' — 
 for a crack-brain' d order of Carthusian monks, I grant, but 
 not for men of the world. For what purpose, do you im- 
 agine, has God made usl for the social sweets of the well- 
 watered valleys, where He has planted us, or for the dry 
 and dismal desert of a Sierra Morena ? Are the sad acci- 
 dents of life, and the uncheery hours which perpetually 
 overtake us, are they not enough, but we must sally forth 
 
196 Sterne s Character of Shimei. 
 
 in quest of them, — belie our own hearts, and say, as your 
 text would have us, that they are better than those of joy % 
 Did the Best of Beings send us into the world for this end, 
 — to go weeping through it, — to vex and shorten a life 
 short and vexations enough already ? Do you think, my 
 good preacher, that He who is infinitely happy, can envy 
 us our enjoyments'? or that a Being, so infinitely kind, 
 would grudge a mournful traveller the short rest and re- 
 freshments necessary to support his spirits through the 
 stages of a weary pilgrimage ? or that he would call him to 
 a severe reckoning, because in his way he had hastily 
 snatched at some little fugacious pleasures, merely to 
 sweeten this uneasy journey of life, and reconcile him to 
 the ruggedness of the road, and the many hard jostlings 
 he is sure to meet with % 
 
 The following passage is equally characteristic. It is 
 extracted from his sermon on Shimei : — 
 
 " There is not a character in the world which has so 
 had an influence upon the affairs of it, as this of Shimei. 
 Whilst power meets with honest checks, and the evils of 
 life with honest refuge, the world will never be undone : 
 but thou, Shimei, has sapp'd it at both extremes ; for thou 
 corruptest prosperity, — and 'tis thou who hast broken the 
 heart of poverty; and, so long as worthless spirits can be 
 ambitious ones, 'tis a character we shall never want. O ! 
 it infects the court, the camp, the cabinet ! — it infects 
 the church ! — go where you will, — in every quarter, in 
 every profession, you see a Shimei following the wheels of 
 the fortunate through thick mire and clay ! — 
 
 ** — Haste Shimei ! — haste or thou wilt be undone for 
 ever. — Shimei girdeth up his loins and speedeth after him. 
 — Behold the hand which governs everything, — takes the 
 
William ChiUingworth. 197 
 
 wheels from off his chariot, so that he who driveth, driveth 
 on heavily. — Shimei doubles his speed, — but 'tis the con- 
 trary way; he flies like the wind over a sandy desert, and 
 the place thereof shall know it no more : — stay, Shimei ! 
 'tis your patron, — your friend, — your benefactor ; 'tis the 
 man who has raised you from the dunghill ! — 'Tis all one 
 to Shimei : Shimei is' a barometer of every man's fortune ; 
 marks the rise and fall of it, with all the variations from 
 scorching hot to freezing cold upon his countenance, that 
 the smile will admit of — Is a cloud upon thy affairs ? — 
 see, — it hangs over Shimei's brow. — Hast thou been 
 spoken for to the king or the captain of the host without 
 success ? — Look not into the court-calendar ; — the vacancy 
 is filled up in Shimei's face. — Art thou in debt? — though 
 not to Shimei, — no matter ; — the worst officer of the law 
 shall not be more insolent.'* 
 
 WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH 
 
 Was born in 1602, and died in 1644. The fame of 
 ChiUingworth, as an author and controversialist, is world- 
 wide. His excellence, says Barlow, consisted in " his 
 logic, both natural and acquired." Lord Mansfield pro- 
 nounced him to be a perfect model of argumentation. 
 Tillotson calls him " incomparable, the glory of his age 
 and nation." Locke proposes for the attainment in right 
 reasoning, the constant reading of ChiUingworth, who, by 
 his example, " will teach both perspicuity and the way of 
 right reasoning better than any book that I know." His 
 sermons are nine in number, of which that on the follow- 
 ing text is, by common consent, admitted to be the 
 masterpiece : — 
 
198 ChillingwortJi s Masterpiece. 
 
 The fon7i of Godliness without its power. 
 
 ** This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come. 
 For men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, 
 blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, without 
 natural affection, truce-breakers, false accusers, incontinent, fierce, 
 despisers of those that are good, traitors, heady, high-minded, lovers 
 of pleasures more than lovers of God ; having a form of godliness, 
 but denying the power thereof." — 2 TiM. iii. I-5. 
 
 " To a discourse upon these words," says Chillingworth, 
 " I cannot think of any fitter introduction than that where- 
 with our Saviour sometime began a sermon of his, ' This 
 day is the Scripture fulfilled.' And I would to God there 
 were not great occasion to fear that a great part of it may 
 be fulfilled in this place. 
 
 "Two things are contained in it : first, The real wicked- 
 ness of the generality of the men of the latter times, in 
 the first four verses. For by ^ men shall be lovers of 
 themselves, covetous, boasters, proud,' &c., I conceive is 
 meant, men generally shall be so ; otherwise this were 
 nothing peculiar to the last, but common to all times ; for 
 in all times, some, nay many, have been ' lovers of them- 
 selves, covetous, boasters, proud,' &c. Secondly, We have 
 here the formal and hypocritical godliness of the same 
 times, in the last verse : ' Having a form of godUness, but 
 denying the power thereof; ' which latter ordinarily and 
 naturally accompanies the former. For as the shadows 
 are longest when the sun is lowest, and as vines and other 
 fruit-trees bear the less fruit when they are suffered to 
 luxuriate and spend their sap upon superfluous suckers, and 
 abundance of leaves ; so, commonly, we may observe, 
 both in civil conversation, where there is great store of 
 formality, there is little sincerity ; and in religion, where 
 
John Bunyan. 199 
 
 there is a decay of true cordial piety, there men entertain 
 and please themselves, and vainly hope to please God, 
 with external formalities and performances, and great store 
 of that righteousness for which Christ shall judge the 
 world." 
 
 JOHN BUNYAN, 
 
 The " Shakspeare among divines," as he has been often 
 termed, was born in the year 1628, at Elstow, in Bedford- 
 shire, the son of a travelling tinker. In his youth he led 
 a wandering and dissipated life ; and it was not till 
 twenty-five years of age, that he joined a dissenting 
 Baptist community in Bedford. Three years subsequent, 
 he became a preacher ; and after the Restoration, in 
 common with many others, he suffered much under the 
 reign of Charles II., and was finally thrown into Bedford 
 jail, where he was immured for nearly thirteen years, and 
 where he wrote, among other works, " The Pilgrim's Pro- 
 gress." Upon his release he became a very popular preacher, 
 attracting immense congregations, whether in his own 
 meeting-house at Bedford or on his visits to London and 
 other places. After sixty years of unwearied toil, he 
 ended his labours Aug. 31, 1688, and went up to sit down 
 with the shining ones of the celestial city. 
 
 " The excellent and learned Dr Owen," says a Non- 
 conformist writer, " sometimes heard John Bunyan preach, 
 and never exhibited both piety and tenderness more truly 
 than when he made answer to king Charles's reproof for 
 going to hear an illiterate tinker prate, * Please your 
 majesty, could I possess that tinker's abilities for preaching, 
 1 7vould most gladly relinquish all my learfiing.'' Owen was 
 right, and the anecdote is exceedingly to his credit, for 
 
200 Good Advice to the Pulpits. 
 
 Bunyan's abilities for preaching, Owen well knew, resulted 
 from the teachings and influences of the Holy Spirit, with- 
 out which all human learning, even in God's Word, would 
 be vain ; and, moreover, Bunyan's abilities for preaching 
 were precisely the same gifts of incomparable genius and 
 piety that produced ' The Pilgrim's Progress.' " 
 
 Good Advice to the Pulpits. 
 
 A quaint and curious volume, entitled " Good advice 
 to the Pulpits, deUvered in a few cautions for keeping up 
 the reputation of those chairs, and preserving the nation 
 in peace. Pubhshed with allowance. London, 1687," — 
 was intended as a caution to the preachers of that age, 
 who, considering the political dangers of the times, were 
 sorely tempted to preach nothing but discourses upon 
 State affairs. The writer exhorts them to beware equally 
 of giving currency to the gossip of the coffee-house and 
 other clubs. He quotes, among many others, the follow- 
 ing passage, as proof that his caution was needed. Thus, 
 the Rev. William Orme, preaching at Guildhall, March 
 27, 1681, said — 
 
 " A Jesuit being once asked, What ways and means the 
 Papists designed to take for the introducing their religion 
 into England ? gave this reply — ' We intended at first 
 to do it by persuading and convincing the people with 
 strength of reason and argument ; but because these 
 have proved so often vain, therefore of late years we have 
 pitched upon two new methods and resolutions. The 
 one is to debauch and vitiate the nobility and gentry, and 
 to bring them off by degrees from all sense and care and 
 kindness for religion ; which is easily to be done, by re- 
 presenting to them a sinful, pleasurable Hfe, both lawful 
 
Robert Robinson of Cambridge, 201 
 
 and safe. The other is to divide the commons into 
 several sects.' Now, how far the Papists have thriven in 
 these designs I shall leave to the judgment and determina- 
 tion of every sober and unprejudiced hearer." 
 
 ROBERT ROBINSON, 
 
 Of Cambridge — the predecessor of Robert Hall — of whom 
 the latter said "that he had a musical voice, and was 
 master of all its intonations ; he had wonderful self-posses- 
 sion, and could say what he pleased, ivhen he pleased, 
 and how he pleased " — was born at Swaffham, in Norfolk, 
 October 8, 1735. He was unsound in the faith, but re- 
 markable for his clearness and strength as a preacher. 
 His varied and chequered career was full of interest, and 
 the story of his life will well repay perusal. The follow- 
 ing are fair samples of his preaching : — 
 
 " Skin for skiji, yea, all that a man hath will he give 
 
 for his life." 
 " Imagine one of these primitive fairs. A multitude of 
 people, from all parts, of different tribes and languages, in 
 a broad field, all overspread with various comm>odities to 
 be exchanged. Imagine this fair to be held after a good 
 hunting season, and a bad harvest. The skinners are 
 numerous, and clothing cheap. Wheat, the staff of life, 
 is scarce, and the whole fair dread a famine. How many 
 skins this year will a man give for this necessary article, 
 without which he and his family must inevitably die % 
 Why, each would add to the heap, and put skin upon ski?i, 
 for all the skins that a man hath will he give for his life. 
 Imagine the wheat-growers, of which Job was one, carry- 
 ing home the skins which they had taken for wheat. 
 
202 Anecdote of RoUnson. 
 
 Imagine the party engaged to protect them raising the 
 tribute, and threatening if it were not paid to put them to 
 death. What proportion of skins would these merchants 
 give in this case of necessity] Ski7i upon skin, all the 
 skins that they have will they give for their lives. The 
 proverb then means, that we should save our lives at any 
 price. Let us apply it to ourselves." 
 
 The following anecdote is characteristic of the satirical 
 humour of the man, and the temper of the University 
 students at the time when he preached at Cambridge : — 
 
 " One hot summer's day, when he was nearly in the 
 middle of his sermon, a clergyman fifty or sixty years of 
 age entered. Pew doors were thrown open in vain. He 
 walked to the table-pew, took his seat, and began quizzing, 
 and so disturbing the congregation, to the great annoyance 
 of the ladies. Robinson's spirit was stirred within him. 
 Having paused long enough to regain thoroughly the 
 diverted attention of the audience, he proceeded thus : 
 ' I was speaking about complex and simple ideas, but as 
 few are acquainted with logical terms, I will give an illus- 
 tration or two. If, walking in the vicinity of the India 
 House, I were to meet a person wearing powder, and 
 silver buckles, and carrying a gold-headed cane, I should 
 have the complex idea of a wealthy merchant. This 
 would be made up of a number of simple ideas ;' and the 
 peculiarities of a successful merchant were enumerated. 
 * Again, suppose I walk in Pall Mall, I might there meet 
 some one wearing a cocked hat, a red coat, gold epau- 
 lettes, &c., and I should have the complex idea of an 
 officer of high rank in the army. This, as in the former 
 case, includes a number of simple ideas. Once more : If 
 I were walking near St Paul's, I might see a portly gentle- 
 
His Power of Rebuke. 203 
 
 man, in a shovel hat, full-bottomed wig, black coat, black 
 silk stockings, silver biickes,' — describing the dress before 
 him, — 'and I should have the complex idea of a venerable 
 dignitary of the Church of England. As in the former 
 cases, this complex idea would include many simple ideas, 
 the gentleman, the scholar, the divine ;' and then followed 
 an eloquent description of the good minister of Jesus 
 Christ. ' But, my friends, you may have forgotten the 
 text. I will repeat it. ** Judge not according to outward 
 appearance, but judge righteous judgment." ' Fixing his 
 keen eye on the stranger in the table-pew, he began to 
 reverse the picture, and describe impertinence and folly in 
 a black dress. The intruder vanished in haste." 
 
 Robinson had a singular aptitude both in the adminis- 
 tration of reproof and the conveyance of instruction. His 
 congregation in Cambridge having been frequently dis- 
 turbed by junior members of the University, he observed 
 one day, when officiating in his chapel, some of these 
 young gentlemen present, and, as usual, bent upon mis- 
 chief; and stated in his sermon that it had long been a 
 disputed question among philosophers, " whether there is 
 such a thing as a vacuum in nature;" but that the diffi- 
 culty is now solved, it having been ascertained that there 
 is a vacuum in the head of every undergraduate who dis- 
 turbs a worshipping assembly in a Dissenting meeting- 
 house. 
 
 Addressing a congregation of labourers in a country- 
 village, and observing that a word sometimes has several 
 meanings, he gave them the following illustration : — 
 " A sharp man, with a sharp scythe, on a sharp morn- 
 ing, mowed an acre of grass before breakfast, which was 
 sharp work;" calling upon them to ascertain the meaning 
 
204 Robhison's Suppose t 
 
 of the word sharp in every instance of its application in 
 this sentence. 
 
 Suppose ! 
 
 " Before I read my text, give me leave to open my heart 
 to you. As I was coming hither this evening, and medi- 
 tating on my text, I thought, suppose — instead of going 
 alone into the assembly this evening, as I shall — suppose 
 it were possible for me to have the honour of leading by 
 the hand, through this numerous congregation, up to the 
 place of speaking, the Lord Jesus Christ in His own per- 
 son, ' the first-born of every creature ; the image of the 
 invisible God.' Suppose I should then open the twenty- 
 second chapter of Matthew, and, with a clear and distinct 
 voice, summon each of my hearers to give an answer to 
 the questions in the forty-second verse : ' What think ye 
 of Christ .? whose Son is He 1 ' Affection for you set me 
 a-thinking further on such answers as the most strict 
 attention to truth would compel you to give. I thought, 
 suppose one should say, ' I have never thought about 
 Christ ; I never intend to think about Him.' Suppose a 
 second should say, ' I have never thought of Him, and I 
 despise Him, because He is not a minister of si?i.'' And 
 suppose a third should say, ^ I hate Him ; and as it is not 
 in my power to persecute Him, I express my hatred of 
 Him by ridicuHng and tormenting all who respect and 
 resemble Him.' 
 
 " My brethren, it is not for me to pretend to know your 
 hearts, or to pronounce anything uncertain ; but the bare 
 apprehension of such dispositions excited in me, as it must 
 in every one that loves his neighbour as himself, a thou- 
 sand suspicions and fears. 
 
 *' Dreading such answers as these, I thought again, What 
 
Hem-y Venn. 205 
 
 if I should bend my knee to the insulted Friend of sinners, 
 and humbly ask, ' O, Son of David ! what think you of 
 this people % whose children are they ? ' Alas ! I thought 
 I saw Him ^ look round about on you with anger, being 
 grieved for the hardness of your hearts;' then turning 
 about, melting with compassion, going down the steps, 
 walking slowly out of the assembly, and all the way weep- 
 ing and saying, ' O that thou hadst known, even thou,' 
 the most inveterate of this congregation, 'at least in this 
 thy day, the things which belong to thy peace ! but now 
 they are hid from thine eyes.' " — R. Robinson. 
 
 THE REVEREND HENRY VENN, 
 
 An eminent Evangelical minister of the Church of Eng- 
 land, the contemporary of Cecil, Newton, and Simeon, 
 has the following suggestive remarks on the choice of a 
 text : — " I am persuaded," he observes, " that we are very 
 negligent in respect of our texts. Some of the most 
 weighty and striking are never brought before the people ; 
 yet these are the texts which speak for themselves. You 
 no sooner repeat them, than you appear in your high and 
 holy character, as a messenger of the Lord of hosts. 
 Within these few weeks I have found it so. In London 
 I preached on, ' Thus saith the Lord : Cursed be the 
 man that trusteth in man, and maketh flesh his arm, and 
 whose heart departeth from the Lord. For he shall be like 
 the heath In the desert, and shall not see when good 
 cometh, but shall inhabit the parched places in the wilder- 
 ness, in a salt land and not inhabited. Blessed is the 
 man that trusteth in the Lord, and whose hope the Lord 
 is. For he shall be as a tree planted by the waters, and 
 that spreadeth out her roots by the river, and shall not 
 
2o6 Religious Indifference Rebuked. 
 
 see when heat cometh, but her leaf shall be green ; and 
 shall not be careful in the year of drought, neither shall 
 cease from yielding fruit/ (Jer. xvii. 5-8.) I con- 
 trasted the character described in the first verse, with the 
 child of God in the latter. The very reading of my text 
 fixed the attention, and raised, as I could see, the expecta- 
 tion of the hearers ; and much affected they seemed to be. 
 Last Sunday I saw the same impression from, ' And the 
 Lord descended in the cloud, and stood with him there, 
 and proclaimed the name of the Lord. And the Lord 
 passed by before him, and proclaimed the name of the 
 Lord. And the Lord passed by before him, and pro- 
 claimed. The Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, 
 long-suffering, and abundant in goodness and truth,' 
 (Exod. xxxiv. 5, 6,) on which I am to preach again, God 
 willing, next Lord's day. I feel the good of selecting 
 these passages to my own soul. I have to lament and 
 bewail my ignorance and great defects for so many years, 
 one-thousandth part of which I do not yet perceive. I 
 wish you may attend to this point, and be led to make 
 the chief and vital parts, as they may be called, of Scrip- 
 ture, your subjects of discourses." 
 
 Religious Indiffei'ence Rebuked. 
 A celebrated preacher of the seventeenth century, in a 
 sermon to a crowded audience, described the terrors of 
 the last judgment with such eloquence, pathos, and force 
 of action, that some of his audience not only burst into 
 tears, but sent forth piercing cries, as if the Judge himself 
 had been present, and was about to pass upon them their 
 final sentence. In the height of this commotion, the 
 preacher called upon them to dry their tears and cease 
 
Anthony Farindon, 207 
 
 their cries, as he was about to add something still more 
 awful and astonishing than anything he had yet brought 
 before them. Silence being obtained, he, with an agitated 
 and solemn countenance, addressed them thus : " In one 
 quarter of an hour from this time, the emotions which you 
 have just now exhibited will be stifled ; the remembrance 
 of the fearful truths which excited them will vanish ; you 
 will return to your carnal occupations, or sinful pleasures, 
 with your usual avidity, and you will treat all you have 
 heard ' as a tale that is told ! ' " 
 
 ANTHONY FARINDON, 
 
 One of the most accompHshed divines and eloquent 
 preachers of the seventeenth century — an age, not of in- 
 tellectual indolence and stupor, but of profound genius 
 and industry — was born at Sonning, in Berkshire, in 1596. 
 Early in life he became conspicuous as an orator. He 
 suffered much from the troubles of the great rebellion. 
 An excellent hfe of him has been lately prefixed to a new 
 edition of his sermons, by the Rev. Thomas Jackson. He 
 died October 9, 1658. All his contemporaries speak of 
 him as a most famous preacher. The following brief ex- 
 tracts exhibit the philanthropic views which he enter- 
 tained concerning the welfare of the whole human family, 
 and the paramount duties which one Christian man owes 
 to another, and to the sinners with whom he is sur- 
 rounded : — 
 
 " As therefore every bishop in the former ages called 
 himself ^^V<r^///'//^ catholiccB eccksi(E, ' a bishop of the Catho- 
 lic Church,' although he had jurisdiction but over one 
 diocese, so the care and piety of every particular Chris- 
 tian, in respect of its diffusive operation, is as catholic as 
 
2o8 Style of Anthony Farindon. 
 
 the church. Every soul he meeteth with is under his 
 charge, and he is the care of every soul. ' In saving a 
 soul from death/ every man is a priest and a bishop, 
 although he may neither invade the pulpit nor ascend the 
 chair, (James v. 20.) ' I may be eyes unto him,' as it was 
 said of Hobab, (Num. x. 31.) I may take him from his 
 error, and put him into the way of truth. If he fear, I 
 may scatter his fear ; if he grieve, I may wipe off his tears ; 
 if he presume, I may teach him to fear ; and if he despair, 
 I may lift him up to a hvely hope, that neither fear nor 
 grief, neither presumption nor despair, swallow him up. 
 Thus may I raise a dead man from the grave, a sinner 
 from his sin ; and by that example many may rise with 
 him who are dead as he ; and so by this friendly com- 
 munication we may transfuse ourselves into others, and 
 receive others into ourselves, and so run hand in hand from 
 the chambers of death." 
 
 " ' For as the grace which bringeth salvation hath ap- 
 peared to all men,' (Titus ii. 11, 12,) so must our charity 
 enlarge itself, and, like the sun, non uni aut alter i, sed statim 
 omnibus in commune prof err i, ' display its beams universally 
 on all, on every man that is a brother and a neighbour j * 
 and now under the gospel every man is so. He is my 
 neighbour and brother ivho loveth me, and he is my neigh- 
 bour and brother who hateth me. He is my neighbour 
 who bindeth up my wounds, and he is my neighbour who 
 gave me those wounds. He is my neighbour who taketh 
 care of me, and he is my nighbour who passeth by me on 
 the other side, (Luke x. 30-37.) And my goodness must 
 open and manifest itself to all men : must be as catholic 
 as the church, nay, as the world itself Whosoever maketh 
 himself our debtor, maketh himself also the object of our 
 
Style of Anthony larmdon. 209 
 
 mercy ; and whatsoever the debt is, forgiveness must wipe 
 it out and cancel it." 
 
 *' In Christ they are called to the same faith, baptized 
 in the same laver, led by the same rule, filled with the 
 same grace, sealed with the same seal, ransomed with the 
 same price, comforted with the same glorious promises, 
 and shall be crowned with the same glory. And being 
 one in these, they are to be as one in all duties and offices 
 which are required to the perfect accomplishment of these. 
 They must join hand in hand to uphold one another on 
 earth, and to advance one another to that glory which is 
 prepared for one as well as for another in heaven. Now 
 this union, though the eye of flesh cannot behold it, yet 
 it must appear and shine and be resplendent in those 
 duties and offices which must attend it. As the head in- 
 fuseth life and vigour into the whole body, so must the 
 members also anoint each other with this oil of gladness. 
 Each member must be busy and industrious to express 
 that virtue without which it cannot be so. Thy charity 
 must be active in thy hands, in casting thy bread upon the 
 waters, (Eccles. xi. i ;) vocal in thy tongue, in ministering 
 a word of comfort in due season ; compassionate in thy 
 heart, leading thee to the house of mourning, and making 
 thee mourn with them that mourn, and lament with them 
 that lament. It must be like the sun which casts its beams 
 and influence on every man. 
 
 " Each member is lame and imperfect by itself, and 
 stands in need of this uniting. What the hand is, that is 
 the foot j and what the eye is, that is the hand, in that re- 
 spect it is a member : for all are members. St Paul in 
 the pulpit was no more a member than the Thessalonians 
 to whom he writ. He that is a perfect man is no more a 
 
 o 
 
2IO Farindon^s Character. 
 
 member than he that is a new-born babe in Christ : and 
 he that is least holds his relation as well as he that is 
 greatest in the kingdom of Christ. Now, if all be members 
 of the same body, each must concur to cherish each 
 other, that the whole may be preserved. Take but an 
 arm from the body, but a hand from that arm, but a finger 
 from that hand, and the blemish is of the whole. In the 
 church of Christ, communis metus^ gandhun, timor : Here 
 we are all one, and 'all men's joys and sorrows and fears 
 are one and the same.^ As each man, (as I told you be- 
 fore,) so each Christian, is as a glass to another ; and they 
 are mutually so. I see my sorrow in my brother's tears, 
 and he sees his tears in my sorrow : he sees my charity in 
 my alms, and I see his devotion in his prayers : I fcast a 
 beam of comfort upon him, and he reflects a blessing upon 
 
 The Introduction of Greek and Latiit Quotations into Ser- 
 mons, a practice co?idemned by the Westminster Asseinl)ly 
 — Fai'indon^s Theological and Personal Character* 
 During the reign of James I., a sort of learned pedantry 
 was introduced into the English pulpit, and soon became 
 fashionable. Men who aspired to eminence as preachers, 
 and to the reputation of learning, brought into their ser- 
 mons not only a multiplicity of divisions and terms of art, 
 but also a profusion of Greek and Latin quotations, partly 
 from the Heathen moralists, and partly from the fathers 
 of the Church. A few of them were doubtless able to do 
 this from memory; but the probability is, that others 
 accustomed themselves to the reading of those ancient 
 authors for the express purpose of selecting from them 
 pithy sentences and half-sentences, as the ornaments of 
 
Afithony Farindon. 211 
 
 their public discourses. To such an extent was this prac- 
 tice carried, that some of the sermons which were preached 
 at that period may be almost said to be written in three 
 languages — English, Greek, and Latin ; devout and sen- 
 sible men conforming to the custom, simply because it had 
 become the law of the caste to which they belonged : just 
 as many otherwise upright men have violated their con- 
 sciences and good sense by submitting to what are popu- 
 larly called " the laws of honour." 
 
 Anthony Farindon, of course, fell into this practice, 
 which was not generally abandoned by the Episcopal 
 clergy till the following age, when Tillotson, Barrow, 
 South, Scott, and Sharpe superseded it by their own 
 example. Yet it may be fairly doubted whether any 
 man, from the reign of James I., when the custom was 
 generally introduced, to that of Charles II., when it was 
 as generally discontinued, ever succeeded in it better than 
 Anthony Farindon. The learned quotations which he 
 has embodied in his sermons are often so beautiful in 
 themselves, and are so appropriately introduced, that few 
 modern readers, it is presumed, would wish to see them 
 expunged. His method of citing ancient authors will 
 teach theological students " the right use of the fathers " 
 as well as of the classics. Unlike a great portion of our 
 old divines, he employs them only as his servants, not as 
 his masters. Whenever he is wishful to use a stronger 
 expression than usual in the enunciation of his sentiments, 
 if a phrase from one of those master-minds, which may 
 answer his purpose, be brought to his recollection, he 
 instantly enlists it into his service, and gives it in the 
 emphatic language of the original, with a forcible English 
 translation as its accompaniment. Among the fathers, 
 
212 Anthony Fanndon. 
 
 Tertullian was his chief favourite, on account of his frank- 
 ness and terseness ; and Nazianzen, Hilary, and Augustine 
 held the next place in his affections. But his reading was 
 vastly excursive, embracing the entire range of human 
 knowledge ; and his discourses display the result — in the 
 immense compass of varied erudition which they embody, 
 and which he had the rare art of rendering perfectly easy 
 of comprehension to men of ordinary capacities. 
 
 But though Farindon avoided the chief blemishes of this 
 practice, yet such a mode of addressing mixed assemblies 
 in the name of God, and on subjects which affect their 
 everlasting destiny, is not to be commended. It is not in 
 good taste : for a Christian preacher is supposed to be so 
 impressed with the truth and importance of his message, 
 and so concerned for the salvation of his hearers, as to 
 have no time to tax his memory, for the purpose of recall- 
 ing corresponding thoughts and expressions in languages 
 with which his hearers are not familiar. Nor has the 
 practice any tendency to the use of edifying; for what 
 possible benefit can a popular assembly derive from sen- 
 tences which they do not understand % Many of our old 
 English divines, in the true spirit of their own Articles and 
 incomparable Liturgy, vehemently censured the Church of 
 Rome for praying in an unknown tongue ; and yet it never 
 seems to have occurred to them, that in the delivery of 
 God's word they violated their own principles by a partial 
 use of languages of which only a few favoured persons 
 among their hearers had any knowledge. 
 
 It is worthy of observation, that the Westminster As- 
 sembly of Divines, who acted under the sanction of the 
 Long Parliament, in their " Directory for Public Worship," 
 which they published in the year 1644, condemned this 
 
Ani/iony Farindon. 
 
 vicious pedantry, as being incompatible with that sim- 
 plicity of purpose which the evangelical ministry requires. 
 They suggest that the preacher of Christ's gospel should 
 "perform his whole ministry plainly, that the meanest 
 man may understand ; delivering the truth not in entic- 
 ing words of man's wisdom, but in demonstration of the 
 Spirit and of power, lest the cross of Christ should be 
 made of none effect ; abstaining also from an unprofitable 
 use of unknown tongues, strange phrases, and cadences of 
 sounds and words ; sparing citing sentences of ecclesias- 
 tical and other human writers, ancient or modern, be they 
 never so elegant." Considering the spirit of party which 
 then prevailed, and the quarter from which this advice 
 came, it might be expected that the Episcopal clergy would 
 not immediately change this learned mode of addressing 
 their congregations. Nor was it quickly adopted by their 
 own brethren, the English Presbyterians, as may be seen 
 in the " Morning Exercises ; " some of the sermons in 
 which have as many Greek and Latin quotations as those 
 of their Episcopal contemporaries. Yet the recommenda- 
 tion of the " Directory," being dictated by sound sense and 
 Christian piety, after having been long neglected, is now 
 generally acknowledged to be the more excellent way, even 
 by the most learned preachers, when they address audi- 
 tories as learned as themselves. The most accomplished 
 college and university preacher in these times would be 
 unable to preserve his own gravity, either in the composi- 
 tion or the delivery of his sermon, if, after selecting a text 
 from St Paul, he were required to support both his doc- 
 trine and phraseology by citations from the whole train of 
 Greek and Roman moralists, poets, and historians, and 
 from the principal fathers, both of the Greek and Latin 
 
214 A?itho7iy Farifidon. 
 
 churches. Yet in certain quarters, two hundred years ago, 
 unless something of this kind were attempted, a pulpit 
 orator would have felt that he had scarcely maintained the 
 proper dignity of his order, or presented a sufficient dis- 
 play of his own acquirements. 
 
 Farindon had many requisites of a good preacher ; and 
 when we read his discourses, recollecting at the same time 
 that two-thirds of them are posthumous, not having been 
 written for the press, but published just as they were de- 
 livered, we can easily account for the esteem in which he 
 was held by his congregation. His mind was richly stored 
 with the treasures of both ancient and modern learning ; 
 and his correct judgment quahfied him so to apply it as to 
 insure the full benefit of it to his readers. He had a 
 readiness and force of expression, in which few men have 
 excelled him ; and great richness and power of imagination, 
 enabling him to embelhsh any subject, and represent it to 
 the best advantage. He was a man of ready wit ; and 
 possessed an admirable insight into the vast variety of 
 human character, — a faculty of incomparable service to a 
 Christian philosopher engaged in the momentous duty of 
 instructing mankind respecting the divine method of sal- 
 vation devised by Infinite Wisdom, which, when accepted 
 by the penitent, alters the natural tendencies of their spirits, 
 and exerts the most benign influence on the final destiny 
 of themselves and others. He had a manly firmness of 
 mind, attempered by gentleness, kindness, and generosity ; 
 so that he did not shrink from the task of exposing mis- 
 chievous error, by whomsoever it was advanced and 
 patronised, yet with a just decorum both of spirit and 
 manner. He was famiUar with his Bible, and understood 
 theology as a science ; and was evidently addicted to 
 
AntJiony Far in don. 215 
 
 prayer, which sanctified his studies, and gave a holy unction 
 to his expostulations and appeals to the conscience ; his 
 spirit having been disciplined and softened by disappoint- 
 ment, persecution, and sorrow. His sermons are free from 
 that multiplicity of artificial divisions which disfigured the 
 pulpit discourses of many of his contemporaries, and per- 
 plexed their hearers and readers. In this respect they are 
 models of simplicity, and of the manner in which popular 
 instruction should be imparted. In regard of their general 
 tone and cast of thought, they reflect as in a mirror a per- 
 fect image of Christianity as it was tauglu and practised 
 in the early Church, but without the errors which many 
 even of the most eminent fathers mixed with evangelical 
 truth. To the leading dogmas of Popery he was decidedly 
 opposed ; and in the course of his ministry he bore a 
 strong and persevering testimony against them, as a sinful 
 and dangerous departure from the doctrine of Christ, and 
 of His inspired apostles. On this subject his testimony is 
 the more valuable, because of his intimate acquaintance 
 with ecclesiastical antiquity, which enabled him from his 
 own knowledge to denounce the peculiarities of Rome as 
 pernicious novelties and errors. 
 
 The imagery of Farindon's sermons is eminently beauti- 
 ful, original, and varied, equal to that which characterises 
 the compositions of any writer who was his contemporary, 
 except, perhaps, those of Milton and Jeremy Taylor. He 
 had, however, no sympathy with the bitter sarcasm of 
 Milton's prose writings ; and if his sermons do not rival 
 the occasional gorgeousness and splendour of Taylor, they 
 excel them in their general elevation of thought and uni- 
 form clearness of diction, as well as in their superior doc- 
 trinal purity. In these qualities they very far surpass the 
 
2i6 Bernard Gilpin. 
 
 unimaginative discourses of his contemporaries, — An- 
 drewes, Brownrigg, and Sanderson. Numberless passages 
 occur in the sermons of Farindon which might be cited 
 as specimens of a true, powerful, and well-sustained elo- 
 quence j the sentiments being impressive, the illustrations 
 elegant and appropriate, and the phraseology terse, ner- 
 vous, and stirring. 
 
 BERNARD GILPIN. 
 
 The great northern apostle, Bernard Gilpin, who refused 
 a bishopric, did not confine his Christian labours to the 
 church of Houghton, of which he was minister, but at 
 his own expense visited the then desolate churches of 
 Northumberland once every year to preach the gospel. 
 Once when he was setting out on his annual visitation, 
 Barnes, Bishop of Durham, summoned him to preach be- 
 fore him ; but he excused himself, and went on his mis- 
 sion. On his return he found himself suspended from all 
 ecclesiastical employments for contempt. The Bishop 
 afterwards sent for him suddenly, and commanded him to 
 preach ; but he pleaded his suspension, which, however, 
 the Bishop immediately took off. Gilpin then went into 
 the pulpit, and selected for his subject the important 
 charge of a Christian bishop. Having exposed the cor- 
 ruption of the clergy, he boldly addressed himself to his 
 lordship, who was present. " Let not your lordship," said 
 he, " say these crimes have been committed without your 
 knowledge ; for whatsoever you yourself do in person, or 
 suffer through your connivance to be done by others, is 
 wholly your own ; therefore, in the presence of God, 
 angels, and men, I pronounce your fatherhood to be the 
 author of all these evils ; and I, and this whole congrega-- 
 
Bernard Gilpin, 217 
 
 tion, will be a witness in the day of judgment that these 
 things have come to your ears." It was expected that the 
 Bishop would have resented this boldness ; but, on the 
 contrary, he thanked Mr Gilpin for his faithful reproof, 
 and suffered him to go his annual visitations in future 
 without molestation. 
 
 About this period the Northumbrians retained so much 
 of the custom of our Saxon ancestors as to decide every 
 dispute by the sword : they even went beyond them ; and 
 not content with a duel, each contending party used to 
 muster what adherents he could, and commenced a kind 
 of petty war, so that a private grudge would often occa- 
 sion much bloodshed. 
 
 In one of Mr Gilpin's annual visitations there was a 
 quarrel of this kind at Rothbury. During the first two or 
 three days of his preaching the contending parties ob- 
 served some decorum, and never appeared at church to- 
 gether. At length, however, they met. One party had 
 been early to church, and just as Mr Gilpin began his 
 sermon, the other entered. They did not stand long 
 quiet, but, mutually inflamed at the sight of each other, 
 began to clash their weapons. Awed, however, by the 
 sacredness of the place, the tumult in some degree ceased, 
 and Mr Gilpin proceeded with his sermon. In a short 
 time the combatants again brandished their weapons, and 
 approached each other. Mr Gilpin then descended from 
 the pulpit, went between the combatants, and addressing 
 their leaders, put an end to their quarrels for the time, 
 although he could not effect an entire reconciUation. 
 They promised, however, that until the sermon was over 
 they would not disturb the congregation. He then re- 
 turned to the pulpit, and devoted the rest of his time to 
 
2i8 Bernard Gilpin. 
 
 endeavouring to make the combatants ashamed of their 
 conduct. His behaviour and discourse affected them so 
 much, that at his further entreaty they agreed to abstain 
 from all further acts of hostihty while he continued in the 
 county. 
 
 On another occasion, Mr Gilpin, going into the church, 
 observed a glove hanging up, which he was told was a 
 challenge to any one that should take it down. He 
 ordered the sexton to give it to him, but he refused. Mr 
 Gilpin then reached it himself, and put it in his breast. 
 When the congregation was assembled, he went into the 
 pulpit, and in the course of his sermon severely censured 
 these inhuman challenges. " I hear," said he, " that one 
 among you has hung up a glove even in this sacred 
 place, threatening to fight any one who should take it 
 down. See, I have done this," holding up the glove to 
 the congregation, and again inveighing in strong terms 
 against such unchristian practices. 
 
 " I hate," said Gilpin one day, " to see a thing done 
 by halves. If it is right, do it boldly and completely ; if 
 it is wrong, leave it altogether undone 1" 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 REMINISCENCES OF PREACHERS AND PREACHING DURING 
 
 THE EIGHTEENTH AND NINETEENTH CENTURIES 
 
 QUAINT AMERICAN PREACHERS WHITEFIELD AND 
 
 THE TWO WESLEYS. 
 
 CHRISTMAS EVANS. 
 
 !HE Style of this celebrated Welsh Nonconfor- 
 mist orator is thus sketched by a competent 
 American writer : — 
 
 *' Christmas Evans was born at Ysgarwen, 
 Cardiganshire, South Wales, on the 25th of December 
 1766. On the 1 6th of July 1838, he preached at Swan- 
 sea, and said, as he sat down, 'This is my last sermon;' 
 and so it proved ; for that night he was taken violently 
 ill, and died three days afterwards, in his seventy-third 
 year, and the fifty-fourth of his ministry. 
 
 "Evans's descriptive powers were perhaps never ex- 
 celled. His imagination was of the imperial order, and 
 absolutely knew no bounds ; and his facility in the ready 
 use of language altogether wonderful. Besides this, he was 
 a man of the liveliest sensibilities, and always spoke out of 
 a full heart, sometimes storming his hearers with his im- 
 passioned earnestness, and sometimes himself overwhelmed 
 with the magnitude and grandeur of his theme. Add to 
 this his pre-eminent faith and hoHness of life, and we dis- 
 
220 Christmas Evans. 
 
 cover the secret of his astonishing pulpit eloquence — 
 which, according to Robert Hall, entitles him to be 
 ranked among the first men of his age. Of course no 
 translator can do him full justice, but the wide popularity 
 of these discourses is the best evidence of their real merit, 
 though in a foreign dress. Perhaps there is no one, upon 
 the whole, superior to that, a portion of which is here 
 given. It contains one or two passages, which, for origin- 
 ahty and brilliancy of conception, and for force of utter- 
 ance, are absolutely unrivalled." 
 
 The Fall and Recovery of Man. 
 
 ' ' For if through the offence of one many be dead ; much more 
 the grace of God, and the gift by grace, which is by one man, Jesus 
 Christ, hath abounded unto many." — Romans v. 15. 
 
 " Man was created in the image of God. Knowledge 
 and perfect holiness were impressed upon the very nature 
 and faculties of his soul. He had constant access to his 
 Maker, and enjoyed free communion with Him, on the 
 ground of his spotless moral rectitude. But, alas ! the 
 glorious diadem is broken ; the crown of righteousness is 
 fallen. Man's purity is gone, and his happiness is forfeited. 
 ' There is none righteous; no, not one.' ' All have sinned, 
 and come short of the glory of God.' But the ruin is not 
 hopeless. What was lost in Adam is restored in Christ. 
 His blood redeems us from bondage, and His gospel 
 gives us back the forfeited inheritance. ' For if through 
 the offence of one many be dead ; much more the grace of 
 God, and the gift by grace, which is by one man, Jesus 
 Christ, hath abounded unto many.' Let us consider : Jtrsf^ 
 the corruption and condemnation of man ; and, secondly, 
 his gracious restoration to the favour of his offended God. 
 
Christmas Evans. 221 
 
 " I. To find the cause of man's corruption and condem- 
 nation we must go back to Eden. The eating of the 
 'forbidden tree' was 'the offence of one,' in consequence 
 of which * many are dead.' This was the ' sin,' the act 
 of 'disobedience,' which 'brought death into the world, 
 and all our woe.' It was the greatest ingratitude to the 
 divine bounty, and the boldest rebellion against the divine 
 sovereignty. The royalty of God was contemned ; the 
 riches of His goodness slighted ; and His most desperate 
 enemy preferred before Him, as if he were a wiser coun- 
 sellor than Infinite Wisdom. 
 
 ******* 
 
 •'Verily, ' the misery of man is great upon him !' Be- 
 hold the wretched fallen creature ! The pestilence pursues 
 him. The leprosy cleaves to him. Consumption is wasting 
 him. Inflammation is devouring his vitals. Burning fever 
 has seized upon the very springs of fife. The destroying 
 angel has overtaken the sinner in his sins. The hand of 
 God is upon him. The fires of wrath are kindling about 
 him, drying up every well of comfort, and scorching all his 
 hopes to ashes. Conscience is chastising him with scor- 
 pions. See how he writhes ! Hear how he shrieks for 
 help ! Mark what agony and terror are in his soul, and 
 on his brow ! Death stares him in the face, and shakes 
 at him his iron spear. He trembles, he turns pale, as a 
 culprit at the bar, as a convict on the scaffold. He is 
 condemned already. Conscience has pronounced the 
 sentence. Anguish has taken hold upon him. Terrors 
 gather in battle array about him. He looks back, and the 
 storms of Sinai pursue him j forward, and hell is moved to 
 meet him ; above, and the heavens are on fire ; beneath, 
 and the world is burning. He listens, and the judgment 
 
222 Christmas Eva?is. 
 
 trump is calling ; again, and the brazen chariots of 
 vengeance are thundering from afar; yet again, and the 
 sentence pierces his soul with anguish unspeakable — 
 '■ Depart ! ye accursed ! into everlasting fire, prepared for 
 the devil and his angels !' 
 
 " Thus, ' by one man, sin entered into the world, and 
 death by sin ; and so death passed upon all men, for that 
 all have sinned.' They are ' dead in trespasses and sins / 
 spiritually dead, and legally dead; dead by the mortal 
 power of sin, and dead by the condemnatory sentence of 
 the law ; and helpless as sheep to the slaughter, they are 
 driven fiercely on by the ministers of wrath to the all- 
 devouring grave, and the lake of fire ! 
 
 "But is there no mercy ? Is there no means of salvation % 
 Hark ! amidst all the prelude of wrath and ruin, comes a 
 still small voice, saying : ' Much more the grace of God, 
 and the gift by grace, which is by one man, Jesus Christ, 
 hath abounded unto many.' 
 
 " 2. This brings us to our second topic, man's gracious 
 recovery to the favour of his offended God. 
 
 " I know not how to represent to you this glorious work 
 better than by the following figure : — Suppose a vast grave- 
 yard, surrounded by a lofty wall, with only one entrance, 
 which is by a massive iron gate, and that is fast bolted. 
 Within are thousands and millions of human beings, of all 
 ages and classes, by one epidemic disease bending to the 
 grave. The graves yawn to swallow them, and they must 
 all perish. There is no balm to relieve, no physician 
 there. Such is the condition of man as a sinner. All 
 have sinned ; and it is written, * The soul that sinneth 
 shall die.' But while the unhappy race lay in that dismal 
 prison, Mercy came and stood at the gate, and wept over 
 
Christmas Evans. 223 
 
 the melancholy scene, exclaiming, * O that I might enter ! 
 I would bind up their wounds ; I would relieve their sor- 
 rows ; I would save their souls !' An embassy of angels, 
 commissioned from the court of heaven to some other 
 world, paused at the sight, and heaven forgave that pause. 
 Seeing Mercy standing there, they cried : ' Mercy ! canst 
 thou not enter? Canst thou look upon that scene and not 
 pity % Canst thou pity, and not relieve V Mercy replied : 
 ' I can see !' and in her tears she added, ' I can pity, but 
 I cannot reUeve !' '■ Why canst thou not enter?' inquired 
 the heavenly host. ' O ! ' said Mercy, ' Justice has barred 
 the gate against me, and I must not — cannot unbar it.' 
 At this moment Justice appeared, as if to watch the gate. 
 The angels asked, 'Why wilt thou not suffer Mercy to 
 enter?' He sternly replied : 'The law is broken, and it 
 must be honoured! Die they or Justice must!' Then 
 appeared a form among the angelic band like unto the 
 Son of God. Addressing himself to Justice, he said : 
 ' What are thy demands ?' Justice replied : ' My de- 
 mands are rigid ; I must have ignominy for their honour, 
 sickness for their health, death for their life. Without the 
 shedding of blood there is no remission !' 'Justice,' said 
 the Son of God, ' I accept thy terms ! On me be this 
 wrong ! Let Mercy enter, and stay the carnival of death ! ' " 
 
 The Journey for the Young Child. 
 " Herod said to the wise men, 'Go and search diligently 
 for the young child.' The Magi immediately commenced 
 their inquiries, according to the instructions they received. 
 I see them approaching some village, and when they come 
 to the gate they inquire, ' Do you know anything of the 
 young child?' The gateman comes to the door, and. 
 
224 The Journey for the Young Child. 
 
 supposing them to have asked the amount of the toll, 
 says, ' O, three-halfpence an ass is to pay.' ' We do not 
 ask what is to pay,' reply they, ' but do you know anything 
 of the young child % ' ' No ; I know nothing in the world,' 
 answers he ; ' but there is a blacksmith's shop a httle 
 farther on ; inquire there, and you will be very likely to 
 obtain some intelligence concerning him.' 
 
 " The wise men proceed, and when they come to the 
 blacksmith's shop, they ask, ' Do you know anything of 
 the young child ] ' A harsh voice answers, 'There is no 
 such thing possible for you as having the asses shod now ; 
 you shall in two hours hence.' ' We do not ask you to 
 shoe the asses,' say they ; ' but inquire for the young 
 child, if you know anything of him?' * Nothing in the 
 world,' says the blacksmith ; ' but inquire at the tavern 
 that is on your road, and probably you may hear some- 
 thing of him there.' 
 
 ''On they go, and stand opposite the door of the tavern, 
 and cry, ' Do you know anything of the young child % ' 
 The landlord, thinking they call for porter, bids the 
 servant attend, saying, ' Go, girl ; go with a quart of 
 porter to the strangers.' ' We do not ask for either 
 porter or ale,' say the wise men j ' but something about 
 the young child that is born.' ' I know nothing in the 
 world of him,' says the landlord j ' but turn to the shop on 
 the left hand ; the shopkeeper reads all the papers, and 
 you will be likely to hear something respecting him 
 there.' 
 
 "They proceed accordingly towards the shop, and re- 
 peat their inquiry, ' Do you know anything of the young 
 child here % ' The shopkeeper says to his apprentice, 
 ' Reach half a quarter of tobacco to the strangers.' 'We 
 
The Bemn. 225 
 
 do not ask for tobacco/ say the wise men, ' but for some 
 intelligence of the young child.' * I do not know anything 
 of him,' replies the shopkeeper ; ' but there is an old rabbi 
 living in the upper end of the village ; call on him, and 
 very probably he will give you all the information you 
 desire respecting the object of your nearch.' 
 
 " They immediately directed their course towards the 
 house of the rabbi ; and having reached it, they knock at 
 the door, and being admitted into his presence, they ask 
 him if he knows anything of the young child. ' Come in,' 
 says he ; and when they have entered and are seated, the 
 rabbi refers to his books and chronicles, and says he to 
 the wise men, ' There is something wonderful about to 
 take place ; some remarkable person has been or is to be 
 born ; but the best thing is for you to go down yonder 
 street; there is living there, by the river side, the son of 
 an old priest ; you will be sure to know all of him.' 
 
 " Having bid the old rabbi a respectful farewell, on they 
 go ; and reaching the river's side, they inquire of the by- 
 standers for the son of the old priest. Immediately he is 
 pointed out to them. There is a ' raiment of camel's hair 
 about him, and a leathern girdle a*bout his loins.' They 
 ask him if he knows anything of the young child. ' Yes,' 
 says he, * There He is: behold the Lamb of God, that 
 taketh away the sin of the world ! There He is ; He 
 will bruise the dragon's head, and bring in everlasting 
 righteousness to every one that beUeveth in His name.' " 
 
 The Bea7n. 
 
 " Then I saw the beam of a great scale ; one end 
 descending to the abyss, borne down by the power of the 
 atonement ; the other ascending to the heaven of heavens, 
 
 p 
 
226 Last Words of Christmas Evans. 
 
 and lifting up the prisoners of the tomb. Wonderful 
 scheme ! Christ condemned for our justification ; for- 
 saken of His Father, that we might enjoy His fellowship; 
 passing under the curse of the law, to bear it away from 
 the believer for ever ! This is the great scale of redemp- 
 tion. As one end of the beam falls under the load of our 
 sins which were laid on Christ, the other rises, bearing 
 the basket of mercy, full of pardons, and blessings, and 
 Hopes. * He who knew no sin was made sin for us ' — that 
 is His end of the beam \ * that we might be made the 
 righteousness of God in Him ' — this is ours. ' Though He 
 was rich, yet for our sakes He became poor ' — there goes 
 His end down ; ' that we, through His poverty, might be 
 rich' — here comes ours up." 
 
 Christmas Evans was kind and tender to dumb animals. 
 The following account of his death is so characteristic of 
 the man, that it ought to be had in remembrance. To 
 several persons standing round his bed, he said :'^ 
 
 " Look at me in myself, I am nothing but ruin ; but look 
 at me in Christ, I am heaven and salvation." He added 
 in a joyous strain four lines of a Welsh hymn; then waving 
 his hand, he said in English, " Good-bye, drive o ft /" Was 
 it another instance of the labour of life pervading by its 
 master-idea the hour of death 1 For upwards of twenty 
 years, " the one-eyed man of Anglesea " — (" an eye, sir," 
 said Robert Hall of that one eye, " that might light an 
 army through a wilderness") — for upwards of twenty 
 years, as he had gone to and fro, his friends had given to 
 him a gig, that he might go at his ease his own way, with 
 a horse, called Jack, which became very old in his master's 
 service. Jack knew from a distance the very tones of his 
 * Paxton Hood's *' Lamps, Pitchers, &c." 
 
American Preaching. 227 
 
 master's voice ; with him Christmas Evans in long jour- 
 neys held many a conversation j the horse opened his 
 ears the moment his master began to speak, and made a 
 kind of neighing reply ; then the rider said, as he often 
 did, ''Jack bach, we have only to cross one low mountain 
 again, and there will be capital oats, excellent water, and 
 a warm stable." Thus, while he was dying, old mountain 
 days came over his memory. " Good-bye," said he, 
 " drive on ! " They were his last words ; he sank into 
 a calm sleep, and awoke no more. 
 
 John Wesley's last words were, '• Bless the Church 
 AND King ! The best of all is, God is with us." 
 Napoleon expired amidst the roar of a thunderstorm, 
 muttering, " T"ete d'Arm^e, Tete d'Arm^e." Dr Adam, 
 the celebrated Scottish schoolmaster, said, " It is grow- 
 ing dark, boys; you may dismiss!" Lord Tenterden 
 arose suddenly in his bed and said, " Gentlemen of the 
 Jury, you may now retire and consider your verdict ! " 
 Goethe, the poet, said, " More light !" By the side of 
 these let the last words of the indefatigable itinerant of 
 Anglesea not be forgotten, " Good-bye ; Jack bach, 
 drive on ! " 
 
 A Voting American Preacher, 
 
 Whose aspirations for celebrity as a preacher were only 
 equalled by his want of all the essential elements except 
 confidence, and w4io was finally discontinued from the 
 work, was once discoursing on the expansive character of 
 the human mind, and said, " Yes, my friends, the mind of 
 man is so expansive that it can soar from star to star, and 
 from satchelite to satchelite, and from seraphene to sera- 
 
228 Modes of Arresting AUetition. 
 
 phene, and from cherrybeam to cherrybeam, and from 
 thence to the center of the doom of heaven." 
 
 All attempts at soaring above a man's natural capacity 
 John Wesley used to call "grasping at the stars and stick- 
 ing in the mud." 
 
 An Irish orator once said, in his sermon, " Could I 
 place one foot upon the sea, and the other upon the 
 Georgiumsidus, dip my tongue into the livid lightnings, 
 and throw my voice into the bellowing thunder, I would 
 wake the world with the command, " Repent, turn to God, 
 and seek salvation." 
 
 It is said that a young American divine, thinking that 
 very sublime, once tried in the pulpit to take the same 
 flight, saying, " Could I place one foot on the sea, and 
 the other on — ahem — on the Georgiumsidus — ahem, ahem 
 — I 'd howl round this little world." He choked on the 
 big word, forgot the rest, and down he came a howHng. 
 
 Quaint Ajnerican Modes of Arresting Attention, 
 
 Some instances of quaint methods have been quoted 
 from the lives of eminent French preachers, showing how 
 they endeavoured to arrest attention. The following, 
 drawn from American sources, have at least the merit of 
 originality : — 
 
 An old preacher, while holding forth on one occasion, 
 finding that his hearers were listless and sleepy, stopped in 
 the midst of his discourse, and, after a pause of sufficient 
 length to cause them all to look up, pointing upward, he 
 said, "The fork of that tree would make a good pack- 
 saddle." He thus arrested their attention, and then pro- 
 ceeded with his sermon. 
 
 Another, on one occasion, preached on the subject of 
 
Lorenzo Dow, 229 
 
 hell. When he was about reaching the climax of his 
 descriptions of the infernal regions, language seemed to 
 fail under the weight of some wonderful forthcoming 
 thought, when, after a little pause, he pulled a match out 
 of his pocket, and, striking it, held it up, saying, " Do 
 you see that % See its blue blazes and curling smoke ; 
 and, oh, what a smell ! and yet this is a very small matter 
 compared with the dreadful hell to which sinners are 
 hastening." That was a silly trifling with the subject and 
 the occasion. 
 
 Another, a man of considerable power, was preaching 
 one night to a large audience, but failed to arrest their 
 attention. In the midst of his sermon three young men 
 came into church, to whom he addressed himself as they 
 were entering, saying, " If I had known you were coming 
 in with that dagger to arrest these men, I could have had 
 the whole matter amicably adjusted, and avoided all this 
 trouble." The people were so startled that many sprang 
 to their feet, and he had to assure them that there was no 
 danger, and that he had only adopted that plan to wake 
 them up, before he could get them quiet. He succeeded 
 in arresting attention, but " paid too dear for the whistle." 
 It was an uncertain sound of the trumpet. His hearers 
 felt that he had been trifling with them, and the reaction 
 was very unfavourable. 
 
 LORENZO DOW. 
 
 It is said that, at one time, when Lorenzo Dow preached 
 under a large spruce pine, in South Carolina, he announced 
 another appointment for preaching in the same place on 
 that day twelve months. The year passed, and as Lorenzo 
 was entering the neighbourhood the evening preceding his 
 
§30 Lorenzo Dow. 
 
 appointment, he overtook a coloured boy who was blow- 
 ing a long tin horn, and could send forth a blast with rise, 
 and swell, and cadence, which waked the echoes of the 
 distant hills. 
 
 Calling aside the blower, Dow said to him: "What's 
 your name, sir % " 
 
 " My name — Gabriel, sir," replied the brother in ebony. 
 
 "Well, Gabriel, have you been to Church HilH" 
 
 " Yes, massa, I 'se been dar many a time." 
 
 " Do you remember a big spruce pine tree on that 
 hilir* 
 
 " O yes, massa, I knows dat pine." 
 
 "Did you know that Lorenzo Dow had an appointment 
 to preach under that tree to-morrow % " 
 
 " O yes, massa, everybody knows dat." 
 
 " Well, Gabriel, I am Lorenzo Dow, and if you '11 take 
 your horn and go, to-morrow morning, and climb up into 
 that pine-tree and hide yourself among the branches before 
 the people begin to gather, and wait there till I call your 
 name, and then blow such a blast with your horn as I 
 heard you blow a minute ago, I '11 give you a dollar. Will 
 you do it, Gabriel % " 
 
 " Yes, massa, I takes dat dollar." 
 
 Gabriel, like Zaccheus, was hid away in the tree-top in 
 due time. An immense concourse of persons, of all sizes 
 and colours, assembled at the appointed hour, and Dow 
 preached on the judgment of the last day. By his power 
 of description he wrought the multitude up to the opening 
 of the scenes of the resurrection and grand assize, at the 
 call of the trumpet peals which were to wake the sleeping 
 nations. "Then," said he, "suppose, my dying friends, that 
 this should be the hour. Suppose you should hear, at this 
 
Gabriel in the Spruce Pine. 23 1 
 
 moment, the sound of Gabriel's trumpet." Sure enough 
 at that moment the trump of Gabriel sounded. The 
 women shrieked, and many fainted ; the men sprang up 
 and stood aghast \ some ran ; others fell and cried for 
 mercy ; and all felt, for a time, that the judgment was set, 
 and the books were opened. Dow stood and watched 
 the driving storm till the fright abated, and some one dis- 
 covered the coloured angel who had caused the alarm, 
 quietly perched on a limb of the old spruce, and wanted 
 to get him down to whip him, and then resumed his 
 theme, saying, " I forbid all persons from touching that 
 boy up there. If a coloured boy, with a tin horn, can 
 frighten you almost out of your wits, what will ye do when 
 you shall hear the trumpet thunder of the archangel? 
 How will ye be able to stand in the great day of the 
 wrath of God % " He made a very effective application. 
 That was better than a long, dry sermon, conveying no 
 impression, except that the tidings of gospel mercy were 
 of no moment, at all, and sinners in no danger, or in dan- 
 ger so trifling as not to wake up the souls of either the 
 preacher or his hearers. The deception involved in the 
 latter case is quite as great, and much more fatal than the 
 temporary deception of Dow's stratagem. But still, while 
 that may have been admissible for Lorenzo Dow, such a 
 thing, with all kindred stratagems, is not necessary to 
 effective gospel preaching, and should not be resorted to. 
 
 An American preacher of considerable power and great 
 celebrity, among other fanciful pictures drawn, on one 
 occasion, for the entertainment of his audience, repre- 
 sented an " angel running on a rainbow with a basket of 
 stars in each hand." 
 
 Another, speaking of a conveyance to the better world, 
 
232 - Lorenzo Dow. 
 
 said, " I will jump astride a streak of lightning, put spurs 
 to it, and dash off to glory." Such fancies may arrest 
 the attention, but represent no reality in this world or the 
 next, illustrate no truth, convey no definite instruction, 
 and are hence inappropriate. 
 
 Another once arose and said to his audience, " I have 
 got up here to display my ignorance before you all." He 
 did all that he proposed to do. 
 
 A man once went to Vincennes, in the United States, 
 to hear Lorenzo Dow preach on backsliding. He said, 
 " An immense concourse of people assembled in the 
 woods, and waited for Dow's arrival. Finally he made 
 his appearance, and at the time all expected the sermon, 
 he arose, climbed up a smooth sapling, and cried out, 
 * Hold on there, Dow ; hold on.' Then he began to slide 
 down, now and then stopping, and repeating, ' Hold on 
 there, Dow ; hold on.' He soon slid down to the ground, 
 and put on his hat and left. That was all the sermon we 
 heard that day." 
 
 " In these allusions to Lorenzo," says an American writer, 
 " it is not meant to cast any reflections on his character 
 or precious memory. When I was stationed in George- 
 town, D. C, a number of years ago, I took * Reformation 
 John Adams,' of new Hampshire, to see Lorenzo's grave, 
 in a cemetery in the northern suburbs of Washington City. 
 Adams wept over it and said, ' Precious man of God, he 
 was my spiritual father, and I have no doubt that I will 
 meet him in heaven.' Many, I have no doubt, will in 
 heaven record sweet memories of that eccentric servant 
 of God \ but we should not imitate his oddities." 
 
 An American minister, of fine descriptive power, was, 
 on one occasion, preaching about heaven ; and, to show 
 
Laughing and Crying in Church, 233 
 
 the absurdity of Emanuel Swedenborg's ideas on the sub- 
 ject, drew a graphic picture of the Swedenborgian heaven, 
 with its beautiful fields, fine horses, cows, and pretty 
 women ; and, in the midst of his glowing description, a 
 good old sister, carried away with the scene, went into 
 raptures, and shouted, " Glory, glory, glory ! " 
 
 The preacher was so disconcerted that he paused, 
 seeming hardly to know what next to do, till the presiding 
 elder in the stand behind him cried out to the shouter, 
 '' Hold on, there, sister; you are shouting over the wrong 
 heaven." 
 
 On this incident another American, Mr Taylor, in the 
 " Model Preacher," remarks, with much practical wisdom 
 and acuteness : — 
 
 " The degree of excitement which you wish to produce 
 by an illustration should be graduated by the character of 
 the subject to be illustrated. The background of a pic- 
 ture may be so clearly drawn, and so highly coloured, as 
 to weaken or destroy the effect of the principal figure. So 
 the exciting character of a mere incident may be such as 
 to carry the feelings of the hearer away from the subject, 
 instead of carrying them to it." 
 
 Laughing and Crying in Church. 
 A good old American doctor of divinity went to hear a 
 preacher who always woke up the people. The doctor, 
 determined to maintain his standard of ministerial dig- 
 nity, would neither laugh nor cry, not he. He listened 
 for a time with his face in his hands, looking as if he was 
 asleep. By and by he ventured to raise his dignified 
 head, and cast his eyes over the audience, but before he 
 knew it he caught the prevaiUng sympathy, and both 
 
234 Smiling and Weeping in Church. 
 
 laughed and cried; for which he became so displeased 
 with himself that he would not go to hear that preacher 
 again. 
 
 The doctor was a very good man, and a good friend of 
 the said preacher ; but such were his ideas of the solemn 
 decorum befitting the house of the Lord, that he could 
 hardly forgive himself for giving way to his feelings, and 
 would not again risk his ministerial dignity under the 
 preaching of that man. 
 
 A minister who had led the van to many a battle, in 
 which hundreds of souls were rescued from the power ol 
 the prince of darkness, preached on one occasion to a 
 very large audience with good effect ; but, because some 
 of the auditors smiled during the sermon, one of the 
 church members accosted the preacher, as he was passing 
 down the aisle, thus, " I '11 never go to hear you preach 
 again, sir. You make the people laugh, and I can't stand 
 such a thing in the house of God. I hope you will never 
 preach here any more ;" and on he went abusing the 
 strange minister in the presence of the dispersing mul- 
 titude, in a loud, angry tone, till some of his brethren 
 commanded him to be quiet. 
 
 " Smiles and tears," says Mr Taylor, " are both alike 
 liable to misuse and abuse. Many persons waste their 
 tears over a novel or a farce, just as many laugh at things 
 trifling and silly. Many, too, on occasions worthy these 
 spontaneous expressions of the soul, laugh or cry to excess. 
 Levity in the house of God is execrable, but the risible 
 emotions excited by the appositeness of a happy illustra 
 tion of truth, and serving to swell the sails that bear the 
 soul heavenward, or that arise from religious joy in the 
 soul, are just as appropriate in divine worship as tears. 
 
Personality in the American Pulpit, 235 
 
 This last is an assertion so questionable with many per- 
 sons, that I will stop a moment to examine the law and 
 the testimony on the subject." 
 
 Crying in the wrong place. 
 
 I remember, (says Foster, in speaking of Robert Hall,) 
 at the distance of many years, with what vividness of the 
 ludicrous he related an anecdote of a preacher, long since 
 deceased, of some account in his day and connexion. He 
 would, in preaching, sometimes weep, or seem to weep, 
 when the people wondered why, as not perceiving in what 
 he was saying any cause for such emotion, in the exact 
 places where it occurred. After his death, one of his hearers 
 happening to inspect some of his manuscript sermons, ex- 
 claimed, " I have found the explanation ; we used to won- 
 der at the good doctor's weeping with so little reason 
 sometimes, as it seemed. In his sermons, there is written 
 here and there on the margins, ' cry here.' Now, I really 
 believe the doctor sometimes mistook the place, and that 
 was the cause of what appeared so unaccountable." 
 
 Directness and Perso?iaHiy in the American Pulpit. 
 
 " During a revival of religion in Greenbrier county, 
 Virginia, a man by the name of Armstrong was converted, 
 and in relating his experience said : — ' Having heard of 
 this revival, and that so many of my neighbours had 
 obtained religion, I came, one night, to see how it was 
 done. 
 
 " The preacher, that night, instead of preaching to the 
 people, as I expected, got up and talked to me, and told 
 me how I had been living, and what I had come for, and 
 what I was thinking about, and exposed me publicly 
 
236 Felix Neff. 
 
 right there before all my neighbours. I never felt so 
 much ashamed in my life before, but was mad to think 
 that anybody should be so mean as to go and tell the 
 preacher all about me. I was sure somebody had done 
 it j for I knew the preacher was an entire stranger to me. 
 " The next night I came in early, and hid behind the 
 door. I thought if the preacher did not see me, he 
 would let me alone, and preach to the people ; but the 
 first thing he commenced on me again, and raked me so 
 severely, that I cried, and when he called for mourners I 
 went forward and prayed. The next night God, for 
 Christ's sake, pardoned my sins, and now I love that 
 preacher more than any other living man." 
 
 FELIX NEFF. 
 
 Amongst the great and good men whose names illus- 
 trate the Genevese annals in modern times, that of Felix 
 Neff should not be forgotten. He was born in a village 
 near the city in the year 1798. Twenty years later he 
 became a sincere Christian in the city itself And thither 
 in ten years more he returned to die. Yet in those ten 
 years how much of intense and devoted labour was 
 crowded ! Measuring life by years, we mourn over the 
 premature death of the youth who passed away at thirty. 
 Measuring hfe by labour and achievement he had attained 
 a good old age. Few men have done more during a life- 
 time than he in the brief interval between his conversion 
 and his departure. Of the nature of those labours the 
 following extract from one of his own letters may serve as 
 an illustration : — 
 
 " I preached," says Neff, " on the Sabbath at Dormil- 
 leuse, and early next morning took my departure, in order 
 
Felix Neff. 237 
 
 to cross the Col d'Orsiere, a mountain which separates 
 the valley of Fressiniere from that of Champsaur, through 
 which the river Drac runs. I had two guides to direct 
 me in crossing this mountain. At this season of the year 
 the passage is seldom practicable. Having left the vil- 
 lage of Dormilleuse, we proceeded onwards towards the 
 Col, along the foot of the glaciers, walking for three hours 
 through snows, some of which had recently fallen, but the 
 greater part probably had lain for centuries. The sky was 
 clear and beautiful, and, notwithstanding our great eleva- 
 tion, the cold was not unusually severe. In many places 
 the snow was firm, but in others quite soft, and we often 
 sank in it up to our knees. The peasants had, however, 
 been considerate enough to envelop my shoes with wool ; 
 and we had furnished ourselves with a plentiful supply of 
 provisions for our journey. Since the fall of snow in Sep- 
 tember only two persons had effected this passage, and 
 we followed in their track, which was crossed at intervals 
 by the footmarks of wolves and chamois, and traces of 
 marmot hunters. After we had gained the summit of the 
 Col, we had still the prospect of a dreary walk of two 
 hours before we could reach the first hamlet of the Val 
 d'Orsiere, lying at the foot of the snows near the sources 
 of the Drac. Here my guides left me, and I proceeded 
 alone towards Mens." 
 
 In the month of January (1824) NefF writes: — "Last 
 Sabbath I preached twice at Violin, after which I retired 
 to a cottage, where I read a portion of Scripture, and com- 
 mented upon it until ten at night, when my congregation 
 withdrew. Many of them had come from remote dis- 
 tances, and as the night was dark, they had provided them- 
 selves with torches to guide them through the snow. 
 
238 Felix Neff. 
 
 " The next morning I began my ascent towards Dormil- 
 leuse, the last and most elevated of all the hamlets in the 
 valley of Fressiniere. Its inhabitants, descended in an 
 unbroken line from the ancient Vaudois, have rendered 
 it celebrated by their resistance, during six hundred years, 
 to the efforts of the Church of Rome. Their brethren in 
 some of the adjacent communes, whose habitations were 
 not so guarded by rugged ramparts and precipices, were 
 often surprised by their foes, and compelled either to dis- 
 semble their faith, or become the victims of cruel perse- 
 cution. Many of them fled to Dormilleuse, where they 
 found an impregnable refuge. This place stands upon 
 the brink of a rock which is almost perpendicular ; it is 
 completely surrounded by glaciers ; and a dark forest 
 stretches along the flank of the mountain, presenting a 
 striking contrast to the snow which covers its summit. 
 The only place where the ascent is practicable is a steep 
 and slippery footpath. A mere handful of men stationed 
 here could with ease repel the attacks of a numerous 
 army, and hurl their assailants into the frightful abyss 
 beneath. For six hundred years Dormilleuse was the city 
 of refuge for the Christians of these valleys, who had suc- 
 cessfully resisted both violence and seduction ; and, dur- 
 ing this long period, had never crouched before the idols 
 of the Church of Rome, or suffered their religion to be 
 tainted by any of its corruptions. There are yet visible 
 the ruins of the walls and fortresses which they erected to 
 preserve themselves from surprise, and to repel the frequent 
 assaults of their oppressors. The sublime, yet frightful 
 aspect of this mountain desert, which served as a retreat 
 for the truth when nearly the whole world was shrouded 
 in darkness j the remembrance of so many martyrs whose 
 
George Whiteficld. 239 
 
 blood once bedewed its rocks ; the deep caverns to which 
 they resorted for the purpose of reading the Holy Scrip- 
 tures, and worshipping the eternal God in spirit and in 
 truth — the sight of all these tends to elevate the soul, and 
 to inspire one with feelings which are difficult to be ex- 
 pressed." 
 
 The P?'eacJiing of the Rev. George Whitefield. 
 " In London, Whitefield could no longer be content 
 with his spacious tabernacle, but took again the open 
 field. The most riotous scenes at Moorfields were usually 
 during the Whitsun holidays. The devils then held their 
 rendezvous there, he said, and he resolved ' to meet them 
 in pitched battle.^ He began early, in order to secure the 
 field before the greatest rush of the crowd. At six o'clock 
 in the morning he found ten thousand people waiting im- 
 patiently for the sports of the day. Mounting his puipit, 
 and assured that he *had for once got the start of the 
 devil,' he soon drew the whole multitude around him. At 
 noon he again took the field. Between twenty and thirty 
 thousand swarmed upon it. He described it as in com- 
 plete possession of Beelzebub, whose agents were in full 
 motion. Drummers, trumpeters, merry-andrews, masters 
 of puppet-shows, exhibitors of wild beasts, players, were 
 all busy in entertaining their respective groups. He 
 shouted his text, ' Great is Diana of the Ephesians,' and 
 boldly charged home upon the vice and peril of their 
 dissipations. The craftsmen were alarmed, and the battle 
 he had anticipated and challenged now fairly began. 
 Stones, dirt, rotten eggs, and dead cats were thrown at 
 him. ' My soul,' he says, ' was among lions / but before 
 long he prevailed, and the immense multitude were 
 
240 George Whitefield. 
 
 ' turned into lambs.' At six in the evening he was again 
 in his field pulpit. * I came,' he says, ' and I saw ; but 
 what % Thousands and thousands more than before.' He 
 rightly judged that Satan could not brook such repeated 
 assaults, in such circumstances, and never, perhaps, had 
 they ^been pushed more bravely home against the very 
 citadel of his power. A harlequin was exhibiting and 
 trumpeting on a stage, but was deserted as soon as the 
 people saw Whitefield, in his black robes, ascend his pul- 
 pit. He * lifted up his voice like a trumpet, and many 
 heard the joyful sound.' At length they approached 
 nearer, and the merry-andrew, attended by others, who 
 complained that they had taken many pounds less that 
 day on account of the preaching, got upon a man's 
 shoulders, and advancing toward the pulpit, attempted 
 several times to strike the preacher with a long, heavy 
 whip, but always tumbled down by the violence of his 
 motion. The mob next secured the aid of a recruiting 
 sergeant, who, with music and straggling followers, marched 
 directly through the crowd before the pulpit. Whitefield 
 knew instinctively how to manage the passions and whims 
 of the people. He called out to them to make way for 
 the king's officer. The sergeant, with assumed official 
 dignity, and his drum and fife, passed through the opened 
 ranks, which closed immediately after him, and left the 
 solid mass still in possession of the preacher. A third 
 onslaught was attempted. Roaring like wild beasts, on 
 the outskirts of the assembly, a large number combined 
 for the purpose of sweeping through in solid column.. 
 They bore a long pole for their standard, and came on 
 with the sound of drum and menacing shouts, but soon 
 quarrelled among themselves, threw down their pole, and 
 
George Whitefield. 241 
 
 dispersed, leaving many of their number behind, ' who 
 were brought over to join the besieged party/ At times, 
 however, the tumult rose like the noise of many waters, 
 drowning the preacher's voice. He would then call upon 
 his brethren near him to unite with him in singing, till the 
 clamorous host were again charmed into silence. He was 
 determined not to retreat defeated ; preaching, praying, 
 singing, he kept his ground till night closed the strange 
 scene. It was one of the greatest of his field days. He 
 had won the victory, and moved off with his religious 
 friends to celebrate it at night in the Tabernacle ; and 
 great were the spoils there exhibited. No less than a 
 thousand notes were afterwards handed up to him for 
 prayers from persons who had been brought ' under con- 
 viction ' that day ; and soon after upwards of three hun- 
 dred were received into the society at one time. Many 
 of them were ' the devil's castaways,' as he called them." 
 — Stevens' History of Methodism. 
 
 Dr Franklin, in his Memoirs, bears witness to the ex- 
 traordinary effect which was produced by Mr Whitefield's 
 preaching in America, and relates an anecdote equally 
 characteristic of the preacher and of himself: — "I hap- 
 pened," says the doctor, '* to attend one of his sermons, in 
 the course of which, I perceived, he intended to finish 
 with a collection, and I silently resolved he should get 
 nothing from me. I had in my pocket a handful of cop- 
 per money, three or four silver dollars, and five pistoles in 
 gold. As he proceeded, I began to soften, and concluded 
 to give the copper. Another stroke of his oratory made 
 me ashamed of that, and determined me to give the sil- 
 ver; and he finished so admirably, that I emptied my 
 pocket wholly into the collector's dish, gold and all. At 
 
 Q 
 
242 IVhitefield a7id Wesley Compared. 
 
 this sermon there was also one of our club, who, being of 
 my sentiments respecting the building in Georgia, and 
 suspecting a collection might be intended, had by precau- 
 tion emptied his pockets before he came from home. To- 
 wards the conclusion of the discourse, however, he felt a 
 strong inclination to give, and applied to a neighbour 
 who stood near him to lend him some money for the pur- 
 pose. The request was fortunately made to, perhaps, the 
 only man in the company who had the firmness not to be 
 affected by the preacher. His answer was, * At any other 
 time, friend Hodgkinson, I would lend to thee freely ; but 
 not now, for thee seems to be out of thy right senses.' " 
 
 IVhitefield and Wesley cojnpared. 
 
 " Why was it that Whitefield had such power over the 
 masses, and preached the gospel with such success % 
 Because, as a man of great natural force, and called of 
 God to the work of the ministry, he conformed to the 
 Master's model. He had clearness— a clear conception 
 of his points, arguments, and illustrations, and hence pre- 
 sented them clearly. He had earnestness — a soul of fire, 
 thrilled with ' the burden of the Lord ' to perishing 
 sinners, and the tidings of mercy for stricken hearts. He 
 had naturalness. He used to say that he talked to the 
 people in their ' market language.' He had literalness. 
 He brought great gospel principles to light through literal 
 facts and figures, and had but little to do with metaphysics 
 in the pulpit. He wisely adapted the truth to the con- 
 dition of his hearers. 
 
 " The same is true of Wesley. He had greater clearness 
 than Whitefield, equal earnestness of soul, though less 
 physical force and vehemence of manner. He also 
 
Whitefidd and Wesley Compared. 243 
 
 possessed an equal degree of naturalness and literalness. 
 Wesley used many literal figures of illustration, but more 
 literal facts. Metaphysical abstractions in the pulpit were 
 out of the question in his ministry. His wise adaptation 
 of truth to the occasion and circumstances of his hearers 
 was a leading feature of his preaching." — Taylors ''Model 
 Freacher'' 
 
 A shipbuilder used to say that under most men's 
 preaching he could build a ship from her keel to the mast- 
 head ; but under that of Whitefield, he could not lay a 
 single plank. 
 
 Though the name of George Whitefield is a household 
 word, his sermons are little known and still less read. 
 They owed much to his inimitable delivery. The follow- 
 ing specimens fairly represent his method : — 
 
 When he was preaching from the text, " Wherefore 
 glorify ye the Lord in the fires?" Isa. xxiv. 15, he said, 
 *•' When I was some years ago at Shields, I went into a 
 glass house, and standing very attentively I saw several 
 masses of burning glass of various forms. The workiuan 
 took one piece of glass and put it into one furnace, then 
 he put it into a second, then into a third. I asked him, 
 * Why do you put that into so many fires % ' He answered 
 me, ' O, sir, the first was not hot enough, nor the second, 
 and therefore we put it into the third, and that will make 
 it transparent.' O, thought I, does this man put this glass 
 into one furnace after another that it may be rendered 
 perfect % O my God, put me into one furnace after 
 another, that my soul may be transparent, that I may see 
 God as He is." 
 
244 Whitefield's Style. 
 
 The Kingdom of God. 
 
 " For the kingdom of God is not meat and drink ; but righteous- 
 ness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost. — Rom. xiv. 17," 
 
 ^-^ ^ ^^ % ¥r 
 
 " Here, then, we will put the kingdom of God together. 
 It is 'righteousness,' it is 'peace.' it is 'joy in the Holy 
 Ghost' When this is placed in the heart, God there 
 reigns, God there dwells and walks — the creature is a son 
 or daughter of the Almighty. But, my friends, how few are 
 there here who have been partakers of this kingdom ! Have 
 you so ? Then you are kings, though beggars ; you are 
 happy above all men in the world — you have got heaven 
 in your hearts ; and when the crust of your bodies drops, 
 your souls will meet with God, your souls will enter into 
 the world of peace, and you shall be happy with God for 
 evermore. I hope that there is none of you who will fear 
 death ; fie for shame, if ye do ! What, afraid to go to Jesus, 
 to your Lord ? You may cry out, ' O death, where is thy 
 sting ] O grave, where is thy victory 1 ' You may go on 
 your way rejoicing, knowing that God is your friend ; die 
 when you will, angels will carry you safe to heaven. 
 
 " But, O, how many are here in this churchyard, who 
 will be laid in some grave ere long, who are entire strangers 
 to this work of God upon their souls ! My dear friends, 
 I think this is an awful sight. Here are many thousands 
 of souls that must shortly appear with me, a poor creature, 
 in the general assembly of all mankind before God in 
 judgment. God Almighty knows whether some of you 
 may not drop down dead before you go out of the church- 
 yard ; and yet, perhaps most are strangers to the Lord 
 Jesus Christ in their hearts. Perhaps curiosity has brought 
 
WhitefiehVs Style. 245 
 
 you to hear a poor babbler preach. But, my friends, I 
 hope I came out of a better principle. If I know any- 
 thing of my heart, I came to promote God's glory, and if 
 the Lord should make use of such a worthless worm, such 
 a wretched creature, as I am, to do your precious souls 
 good, nothing would rejoice me more ! 
 
 ¥: ^ * * * 
 
 " Christ is willing to come into any of your hearts that 
 will be pleased to open and receive Him. Are there any 
 of you made willing Lydias % There are many women 
 here, but how many Lydias are there here % Does power 
 go with the word to open your heart? and find you a sweet 
 melting in your soul? Are you willing? Then Christ 
 Jesus is wilhng to come to you. But you may say, Will 
 Christ come to my wicked, polluted heart? Yes, though 
 you have many devils in your heart, Christ will come and 
 erect His throne there ; though the devils be in your heart, 
 the Lord Jesus will scourge out a legion of devils, and His 
 throne shall be exalted in thy soul. Sinners, be ye what 
 you will, come to Christ, you snail have righteousness and 
 peace. It you have no peace, come to Christ, and He will 
 give you peace. When you come to Christ, you will feel 
 such joy that it is impossible for you to tell. O, may God 
 pity you all ! I hope this will be a night of salvation to 
 some of your souls. 
 
 " My dear friends, I would preach with all my heart till 
 midnight, to do you good, till I could preach no more. 
 O, that this body might hold out to speak more for my 
 dear Redeemer ! Had I a thousand lives, had I a thou- 
 sand tongues, they should be employed in inviting sinners 
 to come to Jesus Christ ! Come then, let me prevail with 
 some of you to come along with me. Come, poor, lost,. 
 
246 Wesley Denounces ReJ>rohation. 
 
 undone sinner, come just as you are to Christ, and say, If 
 I be damned, I will perish at the feet of Jesus Christ, where 
 never one perished." 
 
 vf * * * * * 
 
 John Wesley's Life and Sermons are well known. Dr 
 Southey, a most competent judge, considers the following 
 magnificent paragraph, " one of the finest examples of im- 
 passioned eloquence in the Enghsh language :" — 
 
 *' This doctrine," Mr Wesley says, " represents our 
 blessed Lord, Jesus Christ the righteous, the only begotten 
 Son of the Father, full of grace and truth, as a hypocrite, 
 a deceiver of the people, a man void of common sincerity ; 
 for it cannot be denied that He everywhere speaks as if 
 He were willing that all men should be saved. You 
 represent Him as mocking His helpless creatures, by 
 offering what He never intends to give. You describe Him 
 as saying one thing and meaning another; as pretending 
 the love which He had not. Him in whose mouth was 
 no guile, you make full of deceit, void of common sin- 
 cerity. When nigh the city. He wept over it, and said, 
 * Oh, Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, 
 and stonest them that are sent unto thee, how often would 
 I have gathered thy children together, and ye would not !' 
 Now, if you say they would, but He would not, you repre- 
 sent Him — which, who could hear? — as weeping croco- 
 dile's tears, weeping over the prey which Himself had 
 doomed to destruction. Oh, how would the enemy of 
 God and man rejoice to hear these things were so ! How 
 would he cry aloud and spare not ! How would he 
 lift up his voice and say, ' To your tents, O Israel ! 
 Flee from the face of this God or ye shall utterly 
 perish !'" 
 
Wesley 071 Freachmg. 247 
 
 It may be fairly questioned whether the following is not 
 more remarkable for simplicity and terseness :— 
 
 Preaching. 
 " To candid, reasonable men, I am not afraid to lay open 
 what have been the inmost thoughts of my heart. I have 
 thought, I am a creature of a day, passing through life as 
 an arrow through the air. I am a spirit come from God, 
 and returning to God. Just hovering over the great gulf ; 
 till, a few moments hence, I am no more seen ; I drop 
 into an unchangeable eternity ! I want to know one thing, 
 the way to heaven ; how to land safe on that happy shore. 
 God himself has condescended to teach the way. For 
 this very end He came from heaven. He hath written it 
 down in a book. O give me that book ! At any price, 
 give me the book of God ! I have it. Here is knowledge 
 enough for me. Let me be homo unms libri. Here, then, 
 I am, far from the busy ways of men. I sit down alone. 
 Only God is here. In His presence I open, I read His 
 book ; for this end, to find the way to heaven. Is there 
 a doubt concerning the meaning of what I read ] Does 
 anything appear dark or intricate % I lift up my heart to 
 the Father of Lights — ' Lord, is it not thy word, * If any 
 man lack wisdom, let him ask of God]' Thou 'givest 
 liberally, and upbraideth not.' Thou hast said, ' If any 
 be wilUng to do thy will, he shall know.' I am willing to 
 do, let me know thy will.' I then search after and con- 
 sider parallel passages of scripture, ' comparing spiritual 
 things with spiritual.' I meditate thereon with all the 
 attention and earnestness of which my mind is capable. 
 If any doubt still remains, I consult those who are ex- 
 perienced in the things of God ; and then the writings 
 
248 Anecdote of Whitefield. 
 
 whereby, being dead, they yet speak. And what I thus 
 learn, that I teach." 
 
 When Mr Whitefield was in Scotland, the Seceders 
 vainly endeavoured to persuade him to preach only for 
 them. "Why should I preach only for you V said Mr W. 
 *' Because," replied Mr Ralph Erskine, " we are the Lord's 
 people." " But," rejoined Mr W., " has the Lord no other 
 people than yourselves ? And supposing that all others 
 were the devil's people, have they not so much the more 
 need to be preached to, and shall I say nothing to them?" 
 Having thus failed in their attempt, it is confidently stated 
 by contemporary authorities that some of the more in- 
 tolerant of the Seceders then charitably represented Mr 
 Whitefield as the agent of the devil. 
 
 This anecdote may remind us of another told of the 
 celebrated Robert Hall : — " A member of his flock, pre- 
 suming on his weight and influence in the congregation, 
 called upon him and took him to task for not more 
 frequently or more fully preaching Fredesti?iation, which 
 he hoped would in future be more referred to. Hall, the 
 most moderate and cautious of men on this dark question, 
 was very indignant ; he looked steadily at his censor for a 
 time, and replied : " Sir, I perceive that yott are predes- 
 tinated to be an ass ; and what is more, I see that you are 
 determined to 'make your calling and election sure !'" 
 
 The celebrated Lord Chesterfield is said to have once 
 wandered into Tottenham Court Road Chapel. It is not 
 generally known that this building was enlarged partly 
 at the expense of Caroline, the Queen of George II., who, 
 passing by in her carriage during a heavy thunderstorm, 
 saw crowds in the yard unable to enter. Was this the 
 part once called the oveuy from its great heat and low roof ? 
 
Lord Chesterfield and Whitefield. 249 
 
 Wliitefield was preaching, and Lord Chesterfield was con- 
 ducted into Lady Huntingdon's pew. He Ustened with 
 close attention while Whitefield compared a benighted 
 sinner to a blind man on a path fi.ill of danger : his dog 
 escaping firom him on the verge of a precipice, the old 
 man has nothing but his stick to guide him : on the edge 
 of the cliff, he drops it, and it falls down the abyss. Not 
 knowing his danger, the beggar endeavours to pick it up, 
 and missing his footing — " Good God ! he is gone ! '' 
 shouted Chesterfield, leaping from his seat in order to 
 rescue him from his perilous position. 
 
 HEATING APPARATUS IN CHURCHES. 
 
 John Wesley, as a rule, did not allow fires in his 
 chapels. He thought that if they were crowded with de- 
 votional people, there would be warmth enough in the 
 building. A young clergyman was one day asked by his 
 congregation to allow a stove to be placed in the church. 
 He replied, *' I am surprised that you did not make a 
 -similar request to my predecessor.^' " Ah ! sir," they re- 
 joined, "the case was different then, and there was a good 
 fire in the pulpit." 
 
 MATTHEW WILKS 
 
 Was for many years one of the successors of the Reverend 
 George Whitefield at the Tabernacle, Moorfields. He 
 was odd and eccentric, but highly esteemed. He used to 
 quote proverbs, fables, and anecdotes in his sermons with 
 very happy effect. On one occasion he gave out the text, 
 *'Walk circumspectly," adding, "like a cat upon a wall 
 covered with broken glass bottles." A friend from the ■ 
 United States once called upon him ; Mr Wilks received 
 
250 Mattheiv VVilks—John Strange. 
 
 him with courtesy, and entered into conversation, which 
 was kept up briskly till the most important religious 
 intelligence in possession of each had been imparted. 
 Suddenly there was a pause — it was broken by Mr Wilks. 
 "Have you anything more to communicate 1" "No, 
 nothing of special interest/' *'Any further inquiries to 
 make ? " " None/^ " Then you must leave me ; I have 
 my Master's business to attend to — good-morning." 
 *' Here," says the minister, " I received a lesson on the 
 impropriety of intrusion, and on the most manly method 
 of preventing it." 
 
 JOHN STRANGE, 
 
 An old American Methodist preacher, was of the "Boaner- 
 ges " type. His ministrations were full of striking, telling 
 episodes and overwhelming bursts of surprise power. 
 Brother S., an old presiding elder in Indiana, relates — 
 "When I was an irreligious young man, I went, in 
 company with a lot of wicked young men, to a camp 
 meeting. We entered within the circle of the tents while 
 John Strange was preaching, and as we passed down the 
 aisle John paused, and straightening up his taM form to 
 its utmost height, looking right at us, he cried, ' Here they 
 come ! Lord God, shoot them ! Load and fire again ! ' 
 Every hunter present understood that. I felt," said 
 Brother S., "something like a sharp pain strike right 
 through my body, and for a moment thought I was shot, 
 and every one of us dropped down almost as suddenly as 
 if we had been shot." It was very common under the 
 preaching of Strange for men to fall prostrate like men 
 shot down with a Minid rifle. 
 
John Collins. 251 
 
 JOHN COLLINS 
 
 Possessed an equal degree of naturamess and literalness 
 with Strange, but of a milder type ; he was more " a son 
 of consolation." Rev. J. B. Finley bears the following 
 testimony of him : — " No preacher had the power of rous- 
 ing the masses, and holding them by his eloquence and 
 power, to so great an extent as the meek and sainted 
 Collins. Often have we heard him relate the story ot 
 the lost child, describing with inimitable tenderness the 
 feehngs of the mother, whom he tried to comfort, but 
 who, like Rachel, ' would not be comforted, because her 
 child was not,' and then, when the child was found, with 
 the utmost pathos would relate the joyous emotions of 
 the mother. No tragedian ever succeeded better in trans- 
 ferring the feelings of a character to his audience in his 
 impersonations than did the inimitable Collins. So far 
 was he from falling under the charge made by a tragedian 
 to a minister of the gospel, of representing fact as if it 
 were fiction, that he became the living embodiment of his 
 theme, and, with a soul on fire, he poured out the living 
 truth till every heart was moved. Often have we seen 
 thousands borne down by his impassioned eloquence, 
 like the trees of the forest in a storm. And it was irre- 
 sistible. Steel your heart as you might; summon all 
 your philosophy and stoicism ; and nerve up your soul to 
 an iron insensibihty and endurance, surrounding it with 
 a rampart of the strongest prejudices, the lightning of his 
 eloquence, accompanied by the deep-toned, awfully sub- 
 lime thunder of his words, which came burning from his 
 soul, would melt down your hardness, and break away 
 every fortification in which you were intrenched, while 
 
252 Valentine Cook. 
 
 tears from the deep, unsealed fountains of your soul 
 would come unbidden like rain. The only way to escape 
 his power was to flee from his presence and hearing." — 
 Sketches of Western Met/iodisfn, {American^) 
 
 VALENTINE COOK 
 
 Combined in a good degree all the elements of a good 
 preacher. A glance at his literalness may be seen in the 
 following extract from Morris's Miscellany : 
 
 " Cook, as a preacher, was altogether above the medium 
 grade. His pulpit performances were marked for ap- 
 propriateness, variety, fluency and extraordinary force. 
 While Cook was remarkable for solemnity, both of 
 appearance and deportment, there was in his natural 
 composition a spice 01 eccentricity, sufficient to attract 
 attention, but not to destroy his ministerial mfluence. 
 On one occasion he commenced his public discourse — in 
 a country place — thus : ' As I was riding along the road 
 to-day, I saw a man walk out into his field with a yoke 
 under his arm ; by the motion of his stick, he brought up 
 two bullocks, and placed the yoke upon them. At 
 another place I saw an ass standing by a corn-crib, wait- 
 ing for his daily provender.' Then he read for his text, 
 ' The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master's 
 Glib ; but Israel doth not know, my people doth not con- 
 sider.' He was a ready man, had a fruitful mind, and, no 
 doubt, what he had seen on the way suggested the sub- 
 ject of his discourse." 
 
 The Experiences of a Plagiarist. 
 One of the most popular pulpit orators in Indiana 
 
Plagiarisfu and Plagiarists. 253 
 
 (United States of America) gave a friend his experi- 
 ence, a few days since, in regard to plagiarism. " Having 
 to preach on one occasion," said he, " soon after I entered 
 the ministry, in a large town, where I supposed I would 
 have in my audience a great many learned critics, I was 
 afraid to risk one of my own productions, and hence 
 selected and committed to memory one of the best pub- 
 lished sermons I could find. It was a masterpiece, and I 
 thought I might make it do a great deal of good, and fixed 
 it indelibly upon my mind. I never thought of the impro- 
 priety of such a thing till I got into the pulpit, when it 
 struck me that I had stolen another man's sermon, and 
 was about to pass it as my own, and something seemed to 
 say to me, ' Thief, thief ! steal a sermon and pass it hypo- 
 critically as your own. Hypocrite, hypocrite, you need 
 not think to escape detection. Many of these intelligent 
 men have read that sermon, and will expose you all over 
 town before the setting of the sun. Thief, thief! hypo- 
 crite, hypocrite ! ' It appeared to me that the devil was 
 let loose to torment me, for ' thief, thief,' rang in my ear 
 till my hair seemed to rise on my head, and the perspira- 
 tion rolled off me. I could not tell what to do. The 
 hour for preaching had come, and I had no other sermon 
 available. So I got up in that sad plight, and repeated 
 the stolen sermon as best I could. As I came down from 
 the pulpit, the accuser assailed me again, sa)dng, ' Thief, 
 thief, you'll be found out. These men are looking on 
 you with contempt now.' I hastened out of sight, and 
 cried to God with the anguish of a condemned criminal, 
 and said, ' O Lord God, pity me. For Christ's sake, for- 
 give me. By thy grace I will never attempt such a thing 
 again as long as I live. Let those men tell it; let theai 
 
2 54 Conversion of an American Infidel. 
 
 publish my shame to the world. I will tell it myself, and 
 confess my guilt to God and to men, and solemnly pro- 
 mise never to be guilty of the like again while God gives 
 me breath.' " 
 
 Conversion of an American Infidel. 
 
 It is said that a celebrated minister prepared and 
 preached a course of sermons against infidelity for the 
 purpose specially of convincing and bringing over to 
 Christianity an intelligent infidel neighbour, who was a 
 regular attendant at his church. Just after the close of 
 the series, the infidel professed to be converted, and the 
 preacher was anxious to know which of his sermons had 
 produced such a good effect. 
 
 Soon after, the new convert, in relating his experience, 
 said : " The instrument God was pleased to use for my 
 awakening and conversion was not the preaching of those 
 sermons against infidelity, but the simple remark of a poor 
 old coloured woman. In going down the steps of the 
 church one night, seeing that the old woman was lame, I 
 gave her my hand, and assisted her. She looked up at 
 me with a peculiar expression of grateful pleasure, saying, 
 *■ Thank you, sir. Do you love Jesus, my blessed Sav- 
 iour?' I was dumb. I could not answer that question. 
 She said * Jesus, my blessed Saviour,' with so much 
 earnest confidence, that I could not deny that she had a 
 blessed Saviour, and felt ashamed to confess that I did 
 not love Him. I could not dismiss the subject from my 
 mind, and the more I thought of it the clearer my con- 
 victions became that the old coloured sister had a Jesus, 
 a blessed Saviour ; and I thought of how kind a Saviour 
 He must be to impart such joy and comfort to such poor, 
 
James Axley, 
 
 neglected creatures as she was; and I soon began to weep 
 over my base ingratitude in despising such a Saviour." 
 
 JAMES AXLEY, 
 
 Familiarly called " Old Jemmy," was a renowned and re- 
 doubtable preacher of East Tennessee. The following 
 is an account of a sermon which he addressed to a rough 
 backwoods' congregation. The narrator was Hugh L. 
 White, a judge of that State, and afterwards a leading 
 member of the American Federal Senate : — • 
 
 It was noised through the town of Jonesborough that 
 Mr Axley would hold forth on the morning of the ensuing 
 Sabbath. The famous divine was a great favourite — with 
 none more than with Judge White. At the appointed 
 hour the judge, in company with a large congregation, 
 was in attendance at the house of prayer. All were 
 hushed in expectation. Mr Axley entered, but with a cleri- 
 cal brother, who was ' put up ' to preach. The congrega- 
 tion was composed of a border population ; they were dis- 
 appointed ; this was not the man they had come to hear, 
 consequently there was a good deal of misbehaviour. The 
 discourse was ended, and Mr Axley rose. It is a custom 
 in the new country when two or more preachers are pre- 
 sent, for each of them to have something to say. The 
 people opine that it is a great waste of time to come a 
 long distance and be put off with a short service. I have 
 gone into church at eight o'clock in the morning, and 
 have not come out again until live o'clock in the after- 
 noon. Short administrations are the growth of thicker 
 settlements. 
 
 Mr Axley stood silently surveying the congregation 
 until every one was riveted. He then began : — 
 
256 James Axicy. 
 
 " It may be a very painful duty, but it is a very solemn 
 one, for a minister of the gospel to reprove vice^ miscon- 
 duct, and sin, whenever and wherever he sees it. But 
 especially is this his duty on Sunday and at church. That 
 is a duty I am now about to attend to. 
 
 "And now," continued the reverend speaker, point- 
 ing with his long finger in the direction indicated, 
 *' that man sitting out yonder behind the door, who got 
 up and w^ent out while the brother was preaching, stayed 
 out as long as he wanted to, got his boots full of mud, 
 came back and stamped the mud off at the door, mak- 
 ing all the noise he could, on purpose to disturb the 
 attention of the congregation, and then took his seat; 
 that man thinks I mean him. No wonder he does. 
 It doesn't look as if he had been raised in the white 
 settlements, does it, to behave that way at meeting % 
 Now, my friend, I 'd advise you to learn better manners 
 before you come to church next time. — But I don't memi 
 him. 
 
 "And now," again pointing at his mark, " that little girl 
 sitting there, about half-way of the house — I should judge 
 her to be about sixteen years old — that's her with the 
 artificial flowers on the outside of her bonnet and the in- 
 side of her bonnet ; she has a breast-pin on, too, (they 
 were very severe upon all superfluities of dress,) she that 
 was giggling and chattering all the time the brother was 
 preaching, so that even the old sisters in the neighbour- 
 hood couldn't hear what he was saying, though they tried 
 to. She thinks I mean her. I 'm sorry from the bottom 
 of my heart for any parents that have raised a girl to her 
 time of day, and haven't taught her how to behave when 
 she comes to church. Little girl, you have disgraced your 
 
His Po IV er of Rebuke. 257 
 
 parents as well as yourself. Behave better next time, 
 wont you % — But I don't mean her J' 
 
 Directing his finger to another aim, he said, " That 
 man sitting there, that looks as bright and pert as if he 
 never was asleep in his life, and never expected to be, 
 but that, just as soon as the brother took his text, laid his 
 head down on the back of the seat in front of him, went 
 sound asleep, slept the whole time, and snored ; that man 
 thinks I mean him. My friend, don't you know the 
 church ain't the place to sleep ? If you needed rest, why 
 didn't you stay at home, take off your clothes, and go to 
 bed? that's the place to sleep, not church. The next 
 time you have a chance to hear a sermon, I advise you to 
 keep awake. — But I don't mean him ^ Thus did he pro- 
 ceed, pointing out every man, woman, and child, who had 
 in the slightest deviated from a befitting line of conduct ; 
 characterising the misdemeanour, and reading sharp les- 
 sons of rebuke. 
 
 Judge White was all this time sitting at the end of the 
 front seat, just under the speaker, enjoying the old gentle- 
 man's disquisition to the last degree ; twisting his neck 
 around, to note if the audience relished the " down-com- 
 ings " as much as he did ; rubbing his hands, smiling, 
 chuckling inwardly. Between his teeth and cheek was a 
 monstrous quid of tobacco, which, the better he was 
 pleased, the more he chewed ; the more he chewed, the 
 more he spat ; and behold, the floor bore witness to 
 the results. At length, the old gentleman, straighten- 
 ing himself up to his full height, continued, with great 
 gravity : — 
 
 " And now I reckon you want to know who I do 
 mean. I mean that dirty, nasty, filthy, tobacco-chewer, 
 
258 Jacob Kruher. 
 
 sitting on the end of that front seat " — his finger, mean- 
 while, pointing true as the needle to the pole — " See what 
 he has been about ! Look at those puddles on the floor \ 
 a frog wouldn't get into them ; think of the tails of the 
 sisters' dresses being dragged through that muck." 
 
 The crest-fallen judge averred that he never chewed any- 
 more tobacco in church. 
 
 JACOB KRUBER 
 
 Was one of the vehement, energetic, rough Americans, who 
 denounced with all their hearts polite and fashionable 
 preachers, who diluted the facts and doctrines of the New 
 Testament into mere empty truisms. Thus did he satirise 
 them : — 
 
 He chose for his subject the conversion of Saul ot 
 Tarsus. Ananias, who resided at Damascus, was made to 
 represent the velvet-lipped modern preacher. He thus 
 introduced the subject : " A great many years ago, a bold 
 blasphemer was smitten by conviction when he was on his 
 way to Damascus to persecute the Christians. He was 
 taken to Damascus in great distress. Ananias, after hear- 
 ing of the concern of mind under which Saul was labour- 
 ing, started out to find him. It seems that he was stopping 
 at the house of a gentleman by the name of Judas, not 
 Judas Iscariot, for that person had been dead several 
 years. The residence of this gentleman was in the street 
 which was called Strait. I suppose it was the main street, 
 or Broadway of the city, and lience it was not difficult to 
 find. Arriving at the mansion, he rang the bell, and soon 
 a servant made her appearance. He addressed her thus : 
 * Is the gentleman of the house, Mr Judas, within V ' Yes, 
 sir,' responded the servant, ' he is at home.' Taking out 
 
Polite Preaching. 259 
 
 a glazed, gilt-edged card, on which was printed Rev. Mr 
 Ananias, he handed it to the servant, and said, ' Take this 
 card to him quickly.' Taking a seat, with his hat, cane, 
 and gloves in his left hand, his right being employed in 
 arranging his classical curls, so as to present as much of 
 an intellectual air as possible, he awaited an answer. 
 Presently Mr Judas makes his appearance, whereupon Mr 
 Ananias rises, and making a graceful bow, says — ' Have I 
 the honour to address Mr Judas, the gentleman of the 
 house!' 'That is my name, sir; please be seated.' *I 
 have called, Mr Judas, to inquire if a gentleman by the 
 name of Mr Saul, a legate of the high priest at Jerusalem, 
 is a guest at your house.' ' Yes, sir ; Mr Saul is in his 
 chamber, in very great distress and trouble of mind. He 
 was brought here yesterday, having fallen from his horse a 
 few miles from the city on the Jerusalem road.' ' Oh ! I 
 am very sorry to hear of so painful an accident. I hope 
 he is not dangerously wounded.' ' No, sir, I think not, 
 though the fall has affected his sight very much, and he 
 complains considerably, and prays a good deal. ' Well, I 
 am very sorry ; but that is not very strange, as I believe 
 he belongs to that sect of the Jews called Pharisees, who 
 make much of praying. How long since he received this 
 fall, Mr Judas?' 'About three days since, and all the 
 time he has not taken any refreshment or rest.' ' Indeed ! 
 you don't say so ! he must be seriously hurt. May I be 
 permitted to see Mr Saul ?' ' I will ascertain his pleasure, 
 Mr Ananias, and let you know if you can have an inter- 
 view.' After being gone a short time Mr Judas returns, 
 and says, ' Mr Saul will be much pleased to see you.' 
 When he is ushered into his presence, Saul is reclining on 
 his couch in a room partially darkened. Approaching 
 
26o American Pulpit Pungencies. 
 
 him, Ananias says, ' How do you do, Mr Saul ? I under- 
 stood you had done our city the honour of a visit. Hope 
 you had a pleasant journey. How did you leave all the 
 friends at Jerusalem % How did you leave the high priest % 
 We have very fine weather, Mr Saul. I thought I would 
 call and pay my respects to you, as I was anxious to have 
 some conversation with you on theological subjects. I am 
 extremely sorry to hear of the accident that happened to 
 you in visiting our city, and hope you v/ill soon recover 
 from your indisposition.'" 
 
 AMERICAN PULPIT PUNGENCIES. 
 
 A volume has been recently published in New York 
 bearing this title. It contains anonymous extracts from 
 sermons, and gives one a good impression of the epigram- 
 matic and cynical style adopted by many American 
 preachers. The following extracts will give some notion 
 of the book : — 
 
 He never Blacked his Boots 072 Sunday. 
 
 " There is a man who goes to the judgment, and claims 
 to have been a man of unexceptional piety. He bears 
 witness that he never violated the Sabbath-day ; that he 
 never spoke loud or laughed on Sunday; that he never 
 did any secular work on Sunday ; that he never blacked 
 his boots, or shaved, or cooked on Sunday , that he never 
 rode in the cars or the boats on Sunday. He was always 
 very scrupulous about what he did on Sunday. On any 
 other day he would not hesitate to take advantage of his 
 fellow-men ; he would not hesitate to gouge the poor 
 woman that put his carpet down ; he would not hesitate 
 
A})icrican Pulpit Pungencies. 261 
 
 to cheat his customers ; but, then, he kept Sunday." — 
 Evening Sermoji, December 11, 1859. 
 
 Men like Beasts in Menageries. 
 " Men, when quiet, are Hke beasts in menageries. 
 When full-fed, they lie down and stretch themselves, and 
 sleep. The tiger and the lion, full-fed and sleepy, are as 
 quiet as lambs : not so, when they are hungry ; not so, when 
 they are roused. Men, in days of prosperity, when their 
 feelings are placated, are gratified and purr, who roar 
 when they are touched by the sharp point of iron adver- 
 sity." — M or 7iing Sermon, Janua7'y 23, 1850- 
 
 Ballooning to Heaven. 
 " He goes on say, * And lest I should be exalted above 
 measure through the abundance of the revelations, there 
 was given to me a thorn in the flesh — the messenger of 
 Satan to buffet me, lest I should be exalted above measure;' 
 that is, lest he should go ballooning to heaven before God 
 summoned him ; he was tied down to earth with a rope." — ■ 
 Morning Sermon, April 2, , 1857. 
 
 Mobs God's Providential Asses. 
 *' I think mobs are God's providential asses, which He 
 makes harrow up the ground in time of seed-sowing ; and 
 I think there is no other means by which a plentiful har- 
 vest is more effectually insured. I am sorry for any State 
 that never had any mobs. I believe New Jersey never 
 had one." — Morning Sermon, March 27, 1859. 
 
 Ain't as Good as he is. 
 "When they go to your funeral, and the minister 
 
262 American Pulpit Pungencies. 
 
 makes a saint of you, they won't be so indecent as to 
 laugh there ; but they say when they get home, ' I guess 
 you and I are safe if he is. The minister sent him right 
 straight to heaven, you see. If we ain't as good as he is, 
 it's a pity.'" — Morniiig Sermon, March 27, 1859. 
 
 Ado about the Sprinklings and Dre7ichings. 
 " It is not particularly agreeable to be rained upon ; and 
 yet, what if a man, being caught in a shower while on his 
 way to visit a friend, should say, ' Oh, what an unfortunate 
 circumstance ! Oh, my raiment ! oh, my skin ! ' And what, 
 if arriving at his friend's house no more drenched in body 
 than in mind, he should say, ' A sad calamity has befallen 
 me ; I am in great trouble ; I have met with a serious misfor- 
 tune !' Why, everybody would laugh at him except the host : 
 he might refrain from laughing from politeness ; but every 
 child, and every servant, and all the rest of the household, 
 would be convulsed with laughter. And I suppose the 
 angels have abundant occupation to laugh at us, when 
 they see what an ado we make about the sprinklings and 
 drenchings that we receive in the showers which God 
 sends upon us, in the shape of trials and sufferings. God's 
 sons ought to be heroes." — Morni7ig Sermon, January 15, 
 i860. 
 
 DR BEDELL OF PHILADELPHL\. 
 
 One Sunday, while he was preaching, a young man 
 passed by, with a number of companions, as gay and 
 thoughtless as himself One of them proposed to go into 
 the church, saying, " Let us go and hear what this man 
 has to say, that everybody is running after." The young 
 man made this awful answer, " No, I would not go into 
 
Dr Bedell of PJiiladelpJiia, 2 63 
 
 such a place if Christ himself was preaching." Some 
 weeks after, he was again passing the church, and being 
 alone, and having nothing to do, he thought he would go 
 in without being observed. On opening the door he was 
 struck with awe at the solemn silence of the place, though 
 it was much crowded. Every eye was fixed on the 
 preacher, who was beginning his discourse. His attention 
 was instantly caught by the text, " I discerned among the 
 youths a young man void of understanding," (Prov. vii. 7.) 
 His conscience was smitten by the power of truth. He 
 saw that he was the young man described. A view of his 
 profligate life passed before his eyes, and for the first time 
 he trembled under the feeling of sin, He remained in the 
 church till the preacher and congregation had passed out ; 
 then slowly returned to his home. He had early received 
 infidel principles, but the Holy Spirit, who had aroused 
 him in his folly, led him to a constant attendance on the 
 ministry of Dr Bedell, who had been the instrument of 
 awakening his mind. He cast away his besetting sin, and 
 gave himself to a life of virtue and holiness. He after- 
 wards declared openly his faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, 
 and his desire to devote himself to His service. 
 
 INFLUENCE OF FAULT-FINDING. 
 
 The Reverend Mr Beckvvith says : — " I was once con- 
 versing with a young and successful minister of the gospel, 
 who related to me the following circumstances. When he 
 was quite a child, he heard a minister preach on repent- 
 ance. This was on the forenoon of a Sabbath. His 
 feelings were excited, and he had almost determined, 
 before the conclusion of the sermon, to perform the duty 
 without delay. In this state of mind he went to the house 
 
264 Dr Lyman Beecher. 
 
 of God in the afternoon, and heard the same minister on 
 the judgment. He was still more deeply impressed, and 
 came to the resolution to attend to religion immediately. 
 But, as he passed from the sanctuary, he overheard two 
 professing Christians conversing on the sermon. ' A very 
 solemn discourse,' said one. 'Yes,' replied the other, 
 * but ' — and he proceeded to make some critical remark, 
 the effect of which was, for that time at least, to erase all 
 serious impressions from the mind of the youth. How 
 often do we witness this evil ! " 
 
 DR LYMAN BEECHER, 
 
 The well-known American Presbyterian minister, once 
 engaged to preach for a country minister on exchange, 
 and the Sabbath proved to be one excessively stormy, 
 cold, and uncomfortable. It was in mid-winter, and the 
 snow was piled all along in the roads, so as to make the 
 passage very difficult. Still the minister urged his horse 
 through the drifts, put the animal into a shed, and went 
 in. As yet there was no person in the house, and after 
 looking about, the old gentleman — then young — took his 
 seat in the pulpit. Soon the door opened, and a single 
 individual walked up the aisle, looked about, and took a 
 seat. The hour came for commencing service, but no 
 more hearers. 
 
 Whether to preach to such an audience was a question, 
 and it was one that Lyman Beecher was not long in 
 deciding. He felt that he had a duty to perform, and he 
 had no right to refuse to do it, because only one man 
 could reap the benefit of it; and accordingly he went 
 through all the services, praying, singing, preaching, and 
 
Proving an Alibi. 265 
 
 the benediction, with only one hearer. And when all was 
 over, he hastened down from the desk to speak to his 
 congregation, but he had departed. 
 
 A circumstance so rare was referred to occasionally, but 
 twenty years after it was brought to the doctor's mind 
 quite strangely. Travelling somewhere in Ohio, the 
 doctor alighted from the stage one day in a pleasant 
 village, when a gentleman stepped up and spoke to him, 
 famiharly calling him by name. " I do not remember 
 you," said the doctor. " I suppose not," said the 
 stranger ; "but we once spent tv/o hours together in a house 
 alone in a storm." " I do not recall it, sir," added the old 
 man ; "pray when was it 1" " Do you remember preaching, 
 twenty years ago, in such a place, to a single person ? " 
 " Yes, yes," said the doctor, grasping his hand, " I do, 
 indeed, and if you are the man, I have been wishing to 
 see you ever since." " I am the man, sir ; and that 
 sermon saved my soul, made a minister of me, and yonder 
 is my church ! The converts of that sermon, sir, are all 
 over Ohio." 
 
 Proving a?i Alibi. 
 A clergyman at Cambridge preached a sermon which 
 one of his auditors commended. " Yes," said a gentle- 
 man to whom it was mentioned, " it was a good sermon, 
 but he stole it." This was told to the preacher. He re- 
 sented it, and called on the gentleman to retract what he 
 had said. " I am not," replied the aggressor, " very apt 
 to retract my words, but in this instance I will. I said 
 you had stolen the sermon. I find I was wrong ; for on 
 returning home, and referring to the book whence I thought 
 it was taken, I found it there." 
 
266 Mr Toplady. 
 
 This second-hand mode of clerical instruction is not 
 new. Mr Toplady mentions it as existing when he was 
 quite a young man. In a letter, dated February 1775, ^^ 
 says, " In the spring of 1762, a month or two before I took 
 deacon's orders, I was cheapening some books of Osborne, 
 Dr Johnson's bookselling friend. After that business was 
 over, he took me to the farthest end of his long shop, and, 
 in a low voice, said, ' Sir, you will soon be ordained ; I 
 suppose you have not laid in a very great stock of ser- 
 mons ; I can supply you with as many sets as you please; 
 all originals, very excellent, and they will come for a trifle.* 
 My answer was, I certainly shall never be a customer 
 to you in that way ; for I am of opinion that the man who 
 cannot, or will not, make his own sermons, is quite unfit to 
 wear the gown. How could you think of my buying 
 ready-made sermons % I would much sooner, if I must do 
 one or the other, buy ready-made clothes. His answer 
 shocked me : ' Nay, young gentleman, do not be surprised 
 at my offering you ready-made sermons, for I assure you 
 I have sold ready-made sermons io many a bishop in my 
 time.' " 
 
 REV. MR TOPLADY. 
 
 The following seems a specimen of evangelical painting, 
 as well as pious liberty: it is by the Rev. Mr Toplady, 
 vicar of Broad Hembury, who wrote the well-known hymn 
 beginning "Rock of Ages:" — "The painter," he says, 
 "chooses the materials on which he will delineate his piece. 
 There are paintings on wood, on glass, on metals, on ivory, 
 on canvas. So God chooses and selects the persons on 
 whom His uncreated spirit shall, with the pencil of effec- 
 tual grace, re-delineate the holy likeness which Adam lost. 
 
Anecdotes about Plagiarists. 267 
 
 Among these are some whose natural capacities, and ac- 
 quired improvements, are not of the first-rate : there the 
 image of God is painted on wood. Others of God's people 
 are not those quick sensibiHties and poignant feelings by 
 which many are distinguished ; there the Holy Spirit's 
 painting is on 7narble. Others are permitted to fall from 
 their first love, and to deviate from their steadfastness; 
 these the Holy Spirit paints on glass, which perhaps the 
 first stone of temptation may injure. But the celebrated 
 artist will in time repair those breaches, and restore the 
 frail brittle Christian to his original enjoyments, and to 
 more than his original purity : and what may seem truly 
 wonderful, divine grace restores the picture by breaking it 
 over again. It is the broken-hearted sinner to whom God 
 will impart the comforts of salvation. The ancients 
 painted only in water-colours ; but the moderns (from a.d. 
 1320) have added beauty and durabihty to their pictures, 
 by painting them in oil, applicable to hypocrites and true 
 believers. An hypocrite may outwardly bear something 
 that resembles the image of God but it is only in fj^esco 
 or water-colours, which do not last, and are at best laid on 
 by the hand of dissimulation. But, (if I may accommo- 
 date so famihar an idea to so high a subject,) the Holy 
 Spirit paints in oil; He accompanies his work with unc- 
 tion and with power," &c. 
 
 The Popular Preacher and his Plagiarisms. 
 
 A reverend divine in the west end of London was what 
 is called a popular preacher. This reputation, however, 
 had not been acquired by his drawing largely on his own 
 eloquence and erudition, but by the ingenuity with which 
 he appropriated the thoughts of the great divines who had 
 
263 Unintentional Plagiarism. 
 
 gone before him. His sermons were full of petty larcenies. 
 A fashionable audience is not deeply read in pulpit lore. 
 With such hearers he passed for a model of knowledge 
 and pathos. Nevertheless, he was once detected. A 
 grave old gentleman came one Sunday, seated himself 
 close to the pulpit, and listened with profound attention. 
 The preacher had scarcely finished his third sentence be- 
 fore the stranger muttered loud enough to be heard by all 
 those around him, " That 's Sherlock ! " The preacher 
 frowned, but went on. He was glibly proceeding when 
 the tormenting interrupter broke out with "That's Til- 
 LOTSON ! " The preacher bit his lips, and paused, but 
 again thought it better to pursue the thread of his discourse. 
 A third exclamation of "That's Blair!" was, however, 
 too much, and completely exhausted his patience. Lean- 
 ing over the pulpit, he cried, " Fellow, if you do not 
 hold your tongue, you shall be turned out ! " With- 
 out altering a muscle of his countenance, the imperturbable 
 old gentleman lifted up his head, and looking the preacher 
 full in the face, retorted, " That 's his own ! " 
 
 Unintentional Plagiarism. 
 Some years ago, a clergyman attended divine service 
 at one of the largest churches in the west end of London. 
 The preacher delivered, with great unction, a sermon of re- 
 markable power. The clergyman imagined that he was 
 familiar with the argument, and on reaching home, dis- 
 covered that he had hstened to John Wesley's celebrated 
 sermon, " By grace are ye saved." The clergyman told 
 these circumstances to a friend of the preacher, who in 
 turn remonstrated with the latter. The preacher strongly 
 disavowed any intention to copy another man's sermon, 
 
JoJui Berridge. 269 
 
 and showed his friend a proof-sheet of the discourse, 
 which he was about to pubhsh with others in a vohune. 
 It afterwards turned out that the printer, having com- 
 plained of the meagreness of the volume, the preacher 
 selected this manuscript, having entirely forgotten that he 
 had copied it when a young man from John Wesley. 
 
 JOHN BERRIDGE, 
 
 Some time vicar of Everton, was born in February 17 16, 
 and died on the 2 2d January 1793. He was one of the 
 notorious eccentricities of the last century. The follow- 
 ing extract illustrates his manner of discussing a text : — 
 
 Sergeant If. 
 
 " The doctrine of perseverance affords a stable prop to 
 upright minds, yet lends no wanton cloak to corrupt hearts. 
 It brings a cordial to revive the faint, and keejDS a guard 
 to check the froward. The guard attending on this doc- 
 trine is Sergeant If; low in stature, but lofty in signifi- 
 cance ; a very valiant guard, though a monosyllable. Kind 
 notice has been taken of the sergeant by Jesus Christ and 
 His apostles ; and much respect is due unto him, from 
 all the Lord's recruiting officers, and every soldier in His 
 army. 
 
 " Pray listen to the sergeant's speech : — ' If ye continue 
 in my word, then are ye my disciples indeed,' John viii. 
 31. ' If ye do these things ye shall never fall,' 2 Peter i. 
 10. * If what ye have heard shall abide in you, ye shall 
 continue in the Son and in the Father,' i John ii. 24. ' We 
 are made partakers of Christ, if we hold fast unto the end,' 
 Heb. iii. 14. ' Whoso looketh and continueth (that is, if 
 
270 Street Preach'mg in California. 
 
 he that looketh does continue) in the perfect law of Hberty, 
 that man shall be blessed in his deed,' James i. 25. 
 
 " Yet take notice, sir, that Sergeant If is not of Jewish, 
 but of Christian parentage ; not sprung frum Levi, though 
 a son of Abraham ; no sentinel of Moses, but a watchman 
 for the camp of Jesus." 
 
 Street Preaching in San Francisco^ California^ 
 " The brethren knew that if the gamblers should regard 
 my attempt to preach on the Plaza, thrilling every one of 
 their saloons with the echoes of an unwelcome gospel, as 
 an interference with their business, and should shoot me 
 down, there would be no redress. It would simply be 
 said, 'The gamblers killed a Methodist preacher.' At 
 the appointed time I was on the Plaza, accompanied by 
 Mrs T. and a few friends. I got Mrs T a chair, and put 
 her in care of Dr B. Miller, and appropriated a carpenter's 
 work-bench, which stood in front of the largest gambling 
 saloon in the place, as my pulpit. At that moment 
 Clarkson Dye, thinking I might need some protection 
 against the rays of the burning sun, went across to Brown's 
 Hotel, and asked for the loan of an umbrella to hold over 
 the preacher. He was met with the reply : ' I won't let 
 my umbrella be used for such a purpose, but if I had some 
 rotten eggs I'd give them to him.' He had to pay nine 
 dollars per dozen for eggs, and couldn't afford to throw 
 them at the preacher. 
 
 " Taking my stand on the work-bench I sang : 
 
 *' ' Hear the royal proclamation, 
 The glad tidings of salvation, 
 Publishing to every creature, 
 To the ruin'd sons of nature. 
 
Street Preaching in California. 271 
 
 Jesus reignSj he reigns victorious 
 Over heaven and earth most glorious, 
 Jesus reigns !' &c. &c. 
 
 " By the time the song ended, I was surrounded by about 
 one thousand men. Restless hundreds, always ready for 
 the cry, ' A whale ! a whale !' or any other wonder under 
 the sun, came running from every direction, and the gam- 
 bling-houses were almost vacated. 
 
 " I had crossed the Rubicon, and now came the tug of 
 war. Said I, ' Gentlemen, if our friends in the Atlantic 
 States, with the views and feelings they entertain of Cali- 
 fornian society when I left them, had heard that there was 
 to be preaching this afternoon in Portsmouth Square, in 
 San Francisco, they would have predicted disorder, con- 
 fusion, and riot ; but we who are here believe very differ- 
 ently. One thing is certain, there is no man who loves to 
 see those stars and stripes floating on the breeze, (pointing 
 to the waving flag of our Union,) and who loves the insti- 
 tutions fostered under them ; in a word, there is no true 
 American but will observe order under the preaching of 
 God's word anywhere, and maintain it if need be. We 
 shall have order, gentlemen. Your favourite rule in 
 arithmetic is the rule of " loss and gain." In your tedious 
 voyage round the Horn, or your wearisome journey over 
 the plains, or your hurried passage across the Isthmus, 
 and during the few months of your sojourn in CaUfornia, you 
 have been figuring under this rule ; losses and gains have 
 constituted the theme of your thoughts and calculations. 
 Now I wish most respectfully to submit to you a question 
 under your favourite rule. I want you to employ all the 
 mathematical power and skill you can command, and 
 patiently work out the mighty problem. The question 
 
272 Hgiv to Arrest the Attention. 
 
 may be found in the twenty-sixth verse of the sixteenth 
 chapter of our Lord's Gospel by St Matthew. Shall I 
 announce it 1 " What is a man profited if he shall gain 
 the whole world, and lose his own soul ?'" 
 
 " Every man present was a 'true American' for that 
 hour. Perfect order was observed, and profound attention 
 given to every sentence of the sermon that followed. That 
 was our first assault upon the enemy in the open field in 
 San Francisco, and the commencement of a seven years' 
 campaign, which is illustrated in my book on ' Street 
 Preaching in San Francisco.' I preached in the chapel 
 that evening to a crowded house, and four men presented 
 themselves at the altar as seekers of salvation. I preached 
 every night during that week, and three persons professed 
 to experience religion ; the first revival meeting in Cali- 
 fornia. The little society was greatly refreshed, and 
 especially encouraged by the fact that God could and did 
 convert sinners in that land of gold and crime, a thing 
 almost as incredible, even among Christians, at that time 
 in California, as the doctrine of the resurrection among the 
 Sadducees." — Taylor's California Life Illustrated, 
 
 An American Preacher's Ideas on the Necessity of Arrcsti7ig 
 the Attention of the Congregation. 
 
 To preach the gospel effectively, you must first arrest 
 the attention of your hearers. The mind of every man, 
 woman, or child you meet in the country or in the city is 
 preoccupied, either revolving some theme, or, more pro- 
 bably, indulging a reverie. 
 
 The same is true, also, of every person who comes to 
 hear you preach. Every memory and imagination con- 
 stitute the scene of a vast panoramic display of images 
 
Hoiv to Arrest the Attention. 273 
 
 and associations as wide as the world. If, like the pro- 
 phet Ezekiel in the ancient temple of Israel, you could 
 " dig a hole through the wall," and look into the secret 
 chambers of the souls of your hearers, you would see, 
 right there in the Lord's house, farms and farming im- 
 plements ; horses, hogs, and cattle ; lumber yards and 
 merchandise of every kind ; railroads and canals ; bank 
 stocks ; commercial contracts ; deeds and bonds ; houses 
 of every style of architecture, household furniture, and 
 instruments of music ; an association of old friends and 
 new ones, engaged in public discussions and private con- 
 fabs on all the exciting subjects of the times. In many 
 minds you would see a train of gloomy associations — mis- 
 takes, forgets, mishaps, and wrongs unredressed. All 
 these images, and a thousand more, preoccupy the minds 
 of your hearers, and hold their preoccupancy, passing in 
 and out in almost endless succession and variety. 
 
 Now, sir, it avails nothing for you to arise before such 
 an assembly and say, " Please to give me your attention." 
 They can't do it. Not one in a thousand has suflicient 
 mental discipline to give you undivided attention, till you 
 arrest it by some power stronger than the sparkling reverie 
 tide which bears him along so gently as scarcely to awake 
 his consciousness of the fact. High intellectual develop- 
 ment and piety on the part of your hearers, do not enable 
 them to give you their attention unless you arrest it. 
 
 Your friend selects a good position in the audience 
 room, from which he can see every gesture and catch 
 every flash of your eye, determining to give you undivided 
 attention. Just as he gets himself well fixed for receiving 
 and digesting every word of truth you may dispense, his 
 attention is arrested by the opening of the door behind 
 
 s 
 
274 Wandej'mg Thoughts. 
 
 him ; he involuntarily turns his head towards the fellow- 
 worshipper, as he walks up the aisle looking for a seat, 
 and says to himself, " That man looks very much like an 
 old friend of mine — my old friend. He went to Chicago 
 and bought land — increased in value — sold it for one 
 thousand dollars per acre — went to CaHfornia — wrought 
 in the mines— made a pile — went to trading and lost it — 
 made another raise, and went to Oregon — was in the 
 Indian wars there — came very near losing his life — went 
 to Austraha — was shipwrecked on his voyage, and came 
 very near going under. I wish I could hear what has be- 
 come of him. Fudge ! What am I thinking about ! I 've 
 lost a part of the sermon." 
 
 He then tries to gather up and connect the loose ends 
 of the chain of your discourse, riven and cast out of his 
 mind by the ghostly image of his old friend, and now he is 
 intent on hearing you through without interruption. Eyes 
 and ears open, sir, to receive some stirring truth that will 
 wake the sympathies of his soul. Following along in the 
 path you have marked out for his thoughts, he hears you 
 say, " Some fastidious persons are like the old pharisees, 
 of whom our blessed Saviour said, ' Ye strain at a gnat, 
 and swallow a camel.' " 
 
 "Yes," says he to himself, ''the boys at school used to 
 read it, ' Strain at a gate and swallow a sawmill.' A great 
 set of boys ! Bill Moore married his cousin. Bart got 
 drowned, poor fellow ! Andy Snider went to Shenandoah 
 and learned the blacksmith trade. Bob M'Cown is a poor 
 old bachelor," &c. He chases those boys nearly all over 
 creation before he wakes up, arrests his reverie, and comes 
 back to the subject of discourse. Now, sir, he's your 
 friend, and doing his best to give you his attention. 
 
Wa7ider'mg Thoughts. 275 
 
 Around him are others who don't care much whether 
 they hear you or not. There sits the architect criticising, 
 not your sermon, but the style of your church. 
 
 In the next seat is the physiognomist, scanning the 
 faces of his neighbours, and by his side the phrenologist, 
 counting the bumps on their heads. 
 
 Farther back is the young lover, casting his glances 
 toward the other side of the church. 
 
 Up in the amen corner sit the good old fathers, looking 
 up at you with longing eyes and thirsty souls, thinking 
 about the good times they had, long ago, when old Father 
 Miller travelled the circuit. 
 
 The good sisters on the other side are as variously and 
 fully engaged ; some examining bonnets and ribbons, some 
 taking patterns of the new style of dress, some pricing 
 goods. 
 
 The mother imagines she sees her boys in neighbour 
 Jones's orchard stealing apples, which excites her holy 
 horror ; another just remembers that she forgot to return 
 the clothes-line she borrowed last week, and regrets it. 
 Another wonders if poor little Jimmy mightn't get into 
 the well before she gets back ; another is wondering who 
 did up your linen, saying to herself, " It 's a pity our 
 preacher can't find somebody who can do up a bosom for 
 him." 
 
 Others are praying, and trying to get their " spiritual 
 strength renewed," but in spite of their efforts to " gather 
 in the wanderings of their minds," and to have their souls 
 watered under the " droppings of the sanctuary," their 
 roving throughts will run to and fro in the earth, while 
 you are proclaiming the tidings of mercy to guilty souls. 
 
 They are there to hear the tidings, and waiting to be 
 
276 Wandering Thoughts. 
 
 arrested and interested. Some, to be sure, care not for 
 you nor your message, but you have them within range of 
 your gospel gun, and ought to draw a bead on them and 
 fetch them down, as Daniel Boone did his coon. 
 
 Frank Dodge once said in my hearing : " The best time 
 I can get for maturing a commercial scheme, or planning 
 a sea voyage, is at church while the preacher is preaching. 
 Away from the care and bustle of business, under the 
 soothing sounds of the gospel, I have nothing to disturb 
 my meditations." 
 
 Now, my brother, don't suppose that these cases of 
 inattention I have enumerated are rare cases. I have 
 only given you a glimpse at the mental workings, or rather 
 wanderings of every congregation you address, and of 
 every congregation that assembles anywhere, till their 
 attention is arrested. Not all indulging in "vain thoughts," 
 to be sure, for many are thinking of God, and in " His law 
 do they meditate day and night.'' All occupied with their 
 own favourite themes and thoughts, but none closely fol- 
 lowing the train of your thoughts, till you take them cap- 
 tive and draw them after you by the power of truth and 
 sympathy. 
 
 You have no right to complain of their inattention, and 
 it will do no good to scold them about it. It is your busi- 
 ness to arrest them, knock their thoughts and reveries into 
 pi, and sweeping them away, insert your theme in their 
 minds and hearts. To do this, you must wake them up, 
 stir the sympathies of their souls, and thrill them, by all 
 sorts of unanticipated means, with the joyful tidings of 
 sovereign mercy, or the thundering peals of coming retri- 
 bution. 
 
 Do you imagine, my brother, that any commonplace 
 
Wandering Thoughts. 277 
 
 performance will effect all this ] Just try your hand and 
 see. Select a good text — give to your audience, by way 
 of introduction, a brief history of the author, and the cir- 
 cumstances under which he wrote it. Then tell them 
 how you are going to treat the subject. Announce your 
 divisions in advance — I., II., III., and IV. ; state your 
 subdivisions and propositions, and argue them out by a 
 process of abstract reasoning j prove your positions by 
 judicious selections from the Scriptures, as " saith the pro- 
 phet," or as " the apostle says." Let the people see that 
 you are not a mere talker, but a first-class sermoniser. 
 You will thus command their respect and confidence as 
 a theologian. An occasional quotation from Young's 
 "Night Thoughts," or Pollok's " Course of Time," will add 
 interest and beauty to your sermon. Don't waste the 
 precious time necessary to bring out the logical deduc- 
 tions of your propositions in telling anecdotes. That 
 would lower your ministerial dignity. Don't descend to 
 personalities in your delineations of character, for some of 
 your hearers will think you designed it for them, and will 
 take offence. When through your general divisions, and 
 their appropriate subdivisions, then give a brief synopsis 
 of the whole, and close with three or four additional divi- 
 sions, by way of application. 
 
 Peep into the pulpit encyclopjedias of this enlightened 
 age, and see if the model I have given you an't according 
 to Gunter. Follow it as closely as possible, and I '11 warrant 
 your congregation a good time for an undisturbed reverie, 
 or any mental speculation into which their desires and 
 habits may lead them ; or a nap of sleep, according to 
 their taste, till arrested by the joyful sound of "receive 
 the benediction," and then they '11 feel as did my little 
 
278 How to Preach a Sleepy Sermon. 
 
 Charlie on one occasion. I was leading my little boy 
 through the wild wood, one bright spring morning, and 
 said to him, " Charlie, wouldn't you like to kneel down 
 with pa in this pretty grove, and pray?" 
 
 "Yes, sir ! Here's a good place, pa." 
 
 When I got through with my devotions, I said to him, 
 " Charlie, have you prayed any T' 
 
 " No, sir j but I kneeled down all the time." 
 
 '* Don't you want to pray 1" 
 
 *' Yes, sir ; won't you tell me how to pray, pa ?" 
 
 " Yes, my dear boy, the Lord is Hstening, and I '11 tell 
 you what to say to Him." 
 
 The little fellow then repeated after me a prayer 
 adapted to his years, with great seriousness, till we came 
 to that solemn word. Amen, which he pronounced as the 
 first of a list of about ten other words in a single breath ; 
 in the meantime springing to his feet, and running a rod 
 after his dog. " Amen ; where 's my hat % here Trip, here 
 Trip, here Trip ;" and away he ran, in a chase after his 
 little dog. 
 
 Before you have reached the closing amen of your 
 benediction, half the men in the house have seized their 
 hats, and stand ready for a move in double quick time 
 toward the roast turkey, or other welcome sights awaiting 
 them in the wide world without. As they press their way 
 along the side walk, you may overhear the question, 
 " Well, brother, how did you like the sermon to-day?" 
 *' O, very well It was a good, sound, doctrinal sermon." 
 — Taylor's Model Preacher. 
 
 Gabriel Barlette, the Neapolitan Dominican, has a 
 parallel passage to the above quotation from the Ame- 
 rican Methodist, He wishes to rebuke the distracting 
 
Dr Mason^s Criticism. 279 
 
 thoughts which too often beset men in prayer. He illus- 
 trates the point by introducing a priest engaged in his 
 morning devotions, and saying, " Pater noster qui e., in 
 coelis — I say, lad, saddle the horse, I 'm going to town to- 
 day ! — sanctificetur nomen tuum — Cath'rine, put the pot 
 on the fire ! — fiat voluntas tua — Take care ! the cat's at 
 the cheese ! — panem nostrum quotidianum — Mind the 
 white horse has his feed of oats ! " These men did not 
 mean to suggest irreverential ideas, but rather to rebuke 
 the mere parrot-worship which is the besetting sin of for- 
 malists. 
 
 Dr Maso7i's Criticism. 
 On one occasion, it is related of Dr Mason, of New 
 York, that after the delivery of a discourse appointed 
 for the day, and which he and others were expected to 
 criticise, he was observed to remain silent much longer 
 than usual for him on similar occasions, apparently ab- 
 sorbed in thought, and hesitating whether to express his 
 opinion of the performance or not. At length he was 
 appealed to by some one, and asked whether he had any 
 remarks to make. He arose and said, " I admire the 
 sermon for the beauty of its style, for the splendour of its 
 imagery, for the correctness of its sentiments, and for the 
 point of its arguments ; but, sir, it wanted one thing " — and 
 then, pausing till the eyes of all were fixed upon him, he 
 added — "it needed to be baptized in the name of the 
 Lord Jesus Christ, to entitle it to the name of a Christian 
 sermon." 
 
 Long Pulpit Exercises. 
 Complaints against long religious services are very fre- 
 quent. Few things appear so bad to some persons as to 
 
28o Long Pulpit Exercises. 
 
 be kept in the house of God more than one or two hours. 
 Let us see how it was in the seventeenth century, Mr 
 Howe was then minister of Great Torrington, in Devon- 
 shire. His labours here were characteristic of the times. 
 On the pubUc fasts it was his common method to begin 
 about nine in the morning, with a prayer for about a 
 quarter of an hour, in which he begged a blessing on the 
 work of the day, and afterwards read and expounded a 
 chapter or psalm, in which he spent about three-quarters 
 of an hour, then prayed an hour, preached another hour, 
 and prayed again for half an hour. After this he retired, 
 and took a little refreshment for a quarter of an hour or 
 more, the people singing all the while. He then returned 
 to the pulpit, prayed for another hour, gave them another 
 sermon about an hour's length, and so concluded the ser- 
 vice of the day, about four o'clock in the afternoon, with 
 half an hour or more of prayer. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE SAME SUBJECT CONTINUED — MODERN PREACHERS AND 
 SERMONS MISCELLANEOUS ANECDOTES. 
 
 ROWLAND HILL, 
 
 OR SO many years the minister of Surrey 
 Chapel, in the Blackfriars Road, London, was 
 a strange compound of wisdom, good sense, 
 drollery, and piety. Of these qualities Mr E. 
 Sydney, his well-known biographer, gives many illustra- 
 tions: — "When about to make a collection, he shouted 
 out, ' There is a perpetual frost in the pockets of some 
 wealthy people ; as soon as they put their hands into them, 
 they are frozen and unable to draw out their purses. Had 
 I my way I would hang all misers, but the reverse of the 
 common mode ; I v/ould hang them up by the heels, that 
 their money might run out of their pockets, and make a 
 famous scramble for you to pick up and put in the plate.' 
 On a wet day, when a number of persons took shelter in 
 his chapel during a heavy shower, while he was in the 
 pulpit, he said, ' Many people are greatly blamed for 
 making their religion a cloak; but I do not think those 
 are much better who make it an umhrellar When he was 
 told he did not preach to the elect, upon an early op- 
 portunity, in the pulpit, he said^ ' I don't know them^ or 
 
282 Roiuland Hill. 
 
 I would preach to them. Have the goodness to mark 
 them with a bit of chalk, and then I'll talk to them.' ' I 
 don't like those mighty fine preachers/ he said, ' who so 
 beautifully round off all their sentences that they are sure 
 to roll off the sinner's conscience.' ' Never mind breaking 
 grammar,' he said to his co-pastor, Theophilus Jones, * if 
 the Lord enables you to break the poor sinner's heart.' " 
 
 On a public occasion Dr Chalmers was invited to 
 preach at his chapel, and Mr Hill, in common with some 
 of his leading friends, was somewhat alarmed when they 
 heard the broad dialect of the distinguished northern 
 divine. Mr Hill placed himself in the front gallery, that 
 he might note the temper of the congregation as the ser- 
 mon proceeded. His apprehensions were soon removed. 
 The attention of the people was riveted, and a strange 
 murmur ran through the assembly when the preacher 
 paused at the end of a paragraph. Mr Hill could not 
 contain himself for delight. He thumped loudly on the 
 book-board before him and exclaimed, quite aloud, '' Well 
 DONE ! Well done ! Thomas Chalmers ! " 
 
 A contemporary critic thus describes Rowland Hill's 
 preaching — " Sanctiloquence, the eloquence of the pulpit, 
 is of so little value in the judgment of this celebrated 
 preacher, that it is not to be supposed he will pay the 
 least degree of attention to any observations of mine on 
 his oratorical qualifications. What I shall remark, there- 
 fore, can only benefit those who may wish to avoid the 
 errors which so palpably characterise his fashion of preach- 
 ing. His very faults have raised him friends, and his ex- 
 travagances found imitators. Of the style of singing early 
 adopted, and still practised, in his chapel, it must with 
 justice be asserted, in the versification of Pope, that — 
 
His Eccentricities. 283 
 
 * The blessing thrills through all the labouring throng ; 
 And Heaven is won by— violence of song ! ' 
 
 Perhaps it is owing to this violence of song, as the poet by 
 anticipation described it, that Mr Hill is so sensibly agitated 
 when he enters his pulpit, and first surveys, in all direc- 
 tions, his surrounding congregation ; frequently demons- 
 trating, during this period, by alternate movements of the 
 head or arm, how properly his mind is then engaged in 
 imploring blessings on the people ! Notwithstanding this 
 display of pious precision, there is, in this preacher, a 
 negligence degenerating into slovenliness. Decorum 
 really becomes the pulpit. It is painful, it is worse than 
 painful, to see a divine, so placed, turn his back on his 
 hearers the instant he has finished his prayer ; then, 
 having pulled his robes into order, loll upon his cushion, 
 rub his face, feel his mouth, or pick his nose. 
 
 "Language must not hope to picture the look with which 
 Mr Hill first takes the pulpit. So vacantly risible is the 
 expression of his countenance, there is such idiotic shrewd- 
 ness in it, that to stifle laughter, which yet must be done, 
 when one contemplates his face, is an effort almost too 
 great to bear. Strange as is this trait in him, I leave the 
 truth of it to those who have seen and heard him. 
 
 " Mr Hill gives his text very indistinctly, and almost in- 
 audibly. The character of his discourses is generally 
 known, — sameness in substance, incoherent in arrange- 
 ment, whimsical in illustration, commonly colloquial in 
 language, and abounding in strange flights of fancy, and 
 apt but humorous stories. He absolutely labours for his 
 metaphors ; and, in his zeal to lower himself to what he 
 conceives to be the ' aptitude or capability' of his audience, 
 he constantly mistakes vulgarity for simplicity. Let us 
 
284 Roiulaiid Hill. 
 
 try, from memory, some of those passages by which Mr 
 Hill's sermons are distinguished. 
 
 " ' Some preachers,' he lately significantly observed to his 
 hearers, ' had need be Doctors of Divinity in order to 
 carry their nonsense down ! ' He shortly after declared, 
 however, by way of concession to, or compromise with, 
 other clergymen, *I don't blame those who must preach bad 
 sermons, if they read good ones ; for it is certainly better 
 to read good ones of other people's, than to preach bad 
 ones of their own.' He, then, by no unnatural transition, 
 began to descant on village preaching ; and preferred for 
 ' this evangelical work,' men with ' less learning in their 
 heads than grace in their hearts,' to all the dignified divines 
 in existence. I shall only spoil his description of these 
 village missionaries, whose labours are so piously seconded 
 by the ' money dug,' to record Mr Hill's strong simile for 
 sacred begging, ' from the London mines,' were it at- 
 tempted by me to retrace it on paper. When other giddy 
 fellows are setting out in their whiskeys, Sabbath after Sab- 
 bath, then it is that these simple persons, the village 
 missionaries of the London Itinerant Society, — start for 
 the * evangelising work ; ' and, as Mr Hill remarked, 
 '• what a comfortable employment it is for young men ! ' 
 While others are spending money, these are saving it ; 
 and while others are w-hiskeying along the broad way 
 that leadeth to destruction, these are sociably trotting, 
 two by two, the narrow path that must inevitably lead to 
 blessedness.' So, at least, Mr Hill assures us. Is he not 
 a most admirable recruiting-sergeant in the service of his 
 evangelical church militant? 
 
 " Strenuously as he objects to the ' sounding brass ' or 
 * tinkling cymbal ' of oratory, it is here that himself can 
 
Dr Chalmers. 285 
 
 be really oratorical. Not only does he exert himself in 
 mouthing the sounding brass, but, like those profane 
 wenches who play the triangle through our streets, most 
 aptly can he intimate, by the dexterous motion of his 
 fingers, the jingle of the tinkling cymbal. Such is, never- 
 theless, his sovereign contempt, his sublime detestation, of 
 either the 'sounding brass' or * tinkling cymbal,' and 
 so fearfully does he refrain from the judicious admixture of 
 both, that it is by no means easy to pronounce to what 
 genus of eloquence his preaching belongs." 
 
 Rowland Hill would have tried the critical sagacity of 
 the most erudite. His eccentricities were of great 
 notoriety. With many strong points of character, he 
 combined notions prodigiously odd. One of those restless 
 infesters of places of worship, commonly called Anti- 
 nomians, one day called on Rowland Hill, to bring him 
 to account for his too severe and legal gospel. " Do you, 
 sir," asked Rowland, " hold the ten commandments to be 
 a rule of life to Christians ? " " Certainly not," replied 
 the visitor. The minister rang the bell, and on the 
 servant making his appearance, he quietly added, " John, 
 show that man the door, and keep your eye on him until 
 he is beyond the reach of every article of wearing apparel 
 or other property in the hall." 
 
 DR THOMAS CHALMERS. 
 
 Of this prince of Scottish preachers a personal ac- 
 quaintance wrote : — 
 
 "I have heard all the greatest pulpit readers of my 
 time, and' not one of them has formed an exception to 
 the rule. Even Chalmers, their chief and head, whose 
 mighty ministrations I have very frequently attended, 
 
286 Dr Chalmers. 
 
 matchless reader though he was, came most fully within 
 the rule. That distinguished man, indeed, made no at- 
 tempt to look at his audience such as is made by a mul- 
 titude of readers ; the finger of either hand was never for 
 a moment removed from the MS. ; there was nothing be- 
 yond a passing flash of the eye as he occasionally darted 
 his head upward. Once fairly in motion, he rushed along 
 like a locomotive of the highest power at full speed, heed- 
 less of everything before, behind, or around him, with a 
 sort of blind, though inspired fury. He could, I verily 
 believe, have performed the magnificent feat equally well 
 in Westminster Abbey alone, and with the doors shut ! 
 The fires which, on these occasions, raged so strongly 
 within him, were wholly independent of external circum- 
 stances. As a consequence of this, power, all-subduing 
 power, was the prime characteristic of the achievement. 
 He was generally altogether wanting in pathos, that ethe- 
 real something which, proceeding from a melted heart, 
 has the power of melting all around it. The effect of his 
 sublime effusion was a feeling of intense excitement, oft- 
 times of overwhelming admiration, from which the auditor 
 was often strongly tempted to clap his hands and shout 
 applause ; but he was rarely visited with compunction or 
 moved to tears. Even in his death-scenes he awakened 
 in the assembly scarcely any emotions other than those of 
 awe or horror ; the most sympathetic even of the gentler 
 sex seldom wept. The most striking exception I ever 
 remember was on the occasion of his farewell sermon on 
 leaving Glasgow for St Andrews. The discourse on that 
 occasion was a sublime aff"air, not in its matter, for he was 
 obviously by no means well prepared, but in its delivery ; 
 and the prayer was even more touching than the sermon. 
 
He Preaches from Short-hand. 287 
 
 The discourse appears in his Collected Works, where it 
 occupies but a very secondary place. 
 
 *' How great soever, in a certain way, Chalmers might 
 be with MS., he would have been incomparably greater 
 with free speech ; he was so in his partial attempts at ex- 
 temporising. Nothing I ever listened to might be likened 
 to his off-hand flights, whether in the pulpit or the class- 
 room, the social meeting, or the General Assembly of the 
 Church of Scotland. The style was then much more 
 natural and idiomatic, much less figurative, and the mat- 
 ter much more simple, condensed, and business-like, and 
 the intonation in keeping with it. It was nature per- 
 fected. On these occasions he was scarcely at all Cice- 
 ronian, ofttimes quite Demosthenic. 
 
 " Again, in the case of Chalmers, there was a most 
 material circumstance which greatly abated the offensive- 
 ness of the MS. to the public, as well as lessened its in- 
 convenience to himself His discourses were written in 
 short-hand — which he read with a facility almost miracu- 
 lous — on a sheet of foolscap folded into eight pages, so 
 that there were only four leaves to turn during the entire 
 exercise — a process barely perceptible. One of these 
 short-hand manuscripts — a much-prized treasure — is now 
 before me, consisting of only eight pages, although it 
 occupied forty minutes in the delivery. 
 
 " The power of Chalmers with MS., however matchless 
 in its own way, was, I repeat, impotent compared with the 
 might of his extempore bursts. The difference was early 
 perceived by discerning men. His memoirs contains a 
 singularly interesting passage in relation to this subject. 
 The celebrated Andrew Fuller, during one of his Scottish 
 journeys on behalf of the Baptist mission, before Chalmers 
 
288 Dr Brown on the Fixaching of Chalnw^s. 
 
 had become famous, having spent some time with him at 
 Kilmany, laboured hard to wean him from the habit of 
 reading. Dr Hanna, his son-in-law, says : — 
 
 *' ' Under the very strong conviction that his use of the 
 manuscript in the pulpit impaired the power of his Sab- 
 bath addresses, Mr Fuller strenuously urged upon his 
 friend the practice of extempore preaching, or preaching 
 from notes. " If that man," said he to his companion, 
 Mr Anderson, after they had taken leave of Kilmany 
 manse — " if that man would but throw away his papers in 
 the pulpit, he might be king of Scotland." ' " 
 
 Dr John Brown, of Edinburgh, thus graphically de- 
 scribes the preaching of Chalmers : — 
 
 "The drover, a notorious and brutal character, who 
 had sat down in the table-seat opposite, was gazing up in 
 a state of stupid excitement; he seemed restless, but 
 never kept his eye from the speaker. . . . We all had in- 
 sensibly been drawn out of our seats, and were converging 
 towards the wonderful speaker. . . . How beautiful to our 
 eyes did the Thunderer look, exhausted, but sweet and 
 pure. . . . We went home quieter than when we came ; we 
 thought of other things — that voice, that face ; those great, 
 simple, living thoughts; those floods of resistless eloquence; 
 that piercing, shattering voice." — Hoi'ce Suhsecivce, Second 
 Series, pp. 90-93. 
 
 It may be seriously doubted whether Chalmers would 
 ever have become celebrated at all as a preacher if he had 
 delivered his sermons extempore. When in the middle of 
 a discourse he broke off to illustrate some point which he 
 deemed insufficiently dealt with in his MS., those who 
 remember his preaching will call to mind the almost blun- 
 dering simplicity Vv'ith which he spoke, and the contrast to 
 
The Free Church. 289 
 
 the imperial utterances, the cataracts of eloquence, which 
 came from his well-thumbed notes. 
 
 When Dr Chalmers came to preach the opening ser- 
 mon in the National Scotch Church, Regent Square, St 
 Pancras, London, his former subordinate, Edward Irving, 
 for whom the spacious edifice had been built, prayed 
 before the sermon, and read the Scriptures. He chose 
 for that purpose one of the longest chapters in the Old 
 Testament, and prayed for nearly two hours. The over- 
 crowded congregation were quite fatigued before the ser- 
 mon began, and Dr Chalmers did not hesitate to express 
 his pain and annoyance to some of his friends when the 
 service was concluded. 
 
 One of the admirers of Dr Chalmers, who was always 
 running after the latest variety of popular preacher, sent 
 her compliments to him one day, and asked him if he in- 
 tended to preach at St George's Church on the morning of 
 the following Sunday % Dr Chalmers' reply was char- 
 acteristic of the man. He said, " Present my respects to 
 Mrs So-and-So, and tell her that divine service will be 
 celebrated as usual next Sunday morning, and that it com- 
 mences at eleven o'clock." 
 
 THE FREE CHURCH. 
 
 Landseer once painted a celebrated picture called " The 
 Free Church." It represented a congregation of Scottish 
 shepherds with their collies or dogs, seated each by his master 
 in the pew. A wag observed on this custom, " I suppose 
 the Presbyterian minister will preach on dogmaiical theo- 
 logy." A clergyman from a distant part of Scotland, came 
 to officiate to one of these shepherd congregations. It is 
 usual in the Presbyterian Kirk, for the people to rise when 
 
 T 
 
2go 
 
 Charles S'uneon. 
 
 the minister pronounces the final blessing. The shep- 
 herds continued seated. The strange minister was 
 scandalised, and sharply exclaimed, " What, is there not 
 enough devotional spirit amongst you to make you rise to 
 receive the blessing 1" An old shepherd mounted the 
 pulpit stairs, and whispered in the preacher's ear : — - 
 '•'■ Meenister, it's just to cheat the doggies." It appeared 
 that directly the congregation rose to receive the final 
 blessing, the collies thought the service was over, and 
 rushed through their masters' legs with mighty yelpings 
 into the churchyard. 
 
 CHARLES SIMEON. 
 
 This excellent but somewhat weak man has contributed 
 perhaps more than any other person to the composition of 
 dull sermons. His " Horse Homileticas" no doubt contains 
 much valuable matter in the hands of a judicious reader ; 
 but if he be incompetent or uninformed, they resemble 
 sharp tools placed in the hands of a clumsy apprentice. 
 But whatever may be the value of his writings, he lived a 
 life of singular usefulness, and expired at the ripe age of 
 seventy-eight, supported by divine consolations. It is 
 said that once a friend asked him, during his sickness, 
 what he was thinking about. He replied with animation, 
 " I do not think now : I am enjoying.'^ At another time 
 he exclaimed, " God cannot do anything against my will !" 
 In other words, that he was entirely resigned as to the 
 future. On another occasion, seeing a large number of 
 persons around his bed, he said, mistaking the circum- 
 c-;ance, " You are here on a wrong scent, and all in a 
 wrong spirit. You want to see Avhat is called a deathbed 
 scene. That I abhor from my inmost soul. I wish to be 
 
Edward Irving. 291 
 
 alone with my God, to lie before Him as a poor, wretched, 
 hell-deserving sinner, but I would also look to Him as my 
 all-forgiving God/' As the time of his departure drew 
 near, he faltered forth, " It is said, O death, where is thy 
 sting ?" Adding, with expressive warmth, " Do you see 
 any sting here V The bystanders replied, " No, it is all 
 taken away/' He then added, " Does not this prove 
 that my principles were not founded on fancies or enthu- 
 siasm, but there is reality in them, and I find them 
 sufficient to support me in death." As his disembodied 
 spirit passed away, the loud and solemn bell of great St 
 Mary's in Cambridge began to toll for the university sermon 
 which he himself was to have preached. 
 
 EDWARD IRVING. 
 
 The following sketch of the popularity of this remark- 
 able but eccentric man, is extracted from Mrs Oliphant's 
 *'Life," pubhshed in 1862 : — 
 
 " The immediate origin of Irving's popularity, or rather 
 of the flood of noble and fashionable hearers who poured 
 in upon the little chapel in Hatton-Garden all at once, 
 without warning or premonition, is said to be a speech of 
 Canning's. Sir James Mackintosh had been by some 
 unexpected circumstance led to attend the new preacher, 
 and he heard Irving in his prayer describe an unknown 
 family of orphans, belonging to the obscure congregation, 
 as now ' thrown upon the fatherhood of God.' The words 
 seized upon the mind of the philosopher, and he repeated 
 them to Canning, v/ho, as Mackintosh relates, after ex- 
 pressing great admiration of the passage, made an instant 
 engagement to accompany his friend to the Scotch church 
 on the following Sunday. Shortly aft.r this had taken 
 
SQS Edward Irving^ s Orations. 
 
 place, a discussion arose in the House of Commons in 
 which the revenues of the Church were referred to, and 
 the necessary mercantile relation between high talent and 
 good pay insisted upon. No doubt it suited the states- 
 man's purpose to instance, on the other side of the ques- 
 tion, the little Caledonian chapel and its new preacher. 
 Canning told the House that, so far from universal was 
 this rule, that he himself had lately heard a Scotch minis- 
 ter, trained in one of the most poorly endowed of churches, 
 and established in one of her outlying dependencies, pos- 
 sessed of no endowment at all, preach the most eloquent 
 sermon that he had ever listened to. The curiosity 
 awakened by this speech is said to have been the first 
 beginning of that invasion of ' society ' which startled 
 Hatton-Garden out of itself" 
 
 It is difficult to do justice to the matter of Irving's 
 orations in a brief quotation. They have much of the 
 lofty and ornate character of Hooker and Milton. He 
 owned himself a great admirer of the poet. The following 
 contrast between his own position and that of St John the 
 Baptist is a gem in its way. He is preaching from the 
 text, " O generation of vipers," &c. : — 
 
 " It doth not become me, who have been educated in 
 the softness of civilised life, to affect the rough and scorn- 
 ful language so becoming in the son of Zacharias; and 
 though this country has been disgraced by martyrdoms of 
 the Lord's servants no less than Israel was, still, as by 
 the singular providence of God upon the liberties of the 
 land, we are not likely again to be troubled with such in- 
 human spectacles, I shall not use the reproachful language 
 of the Baptist, and salute ye as a generation of vipers ; but 
 I will not fear to salute ye as a cold-hearted generation, who 
 
The Style of Bishop Sherlock. 293 
 
 are not moved as ye should be by the overtures of God. 
 Else why this standing upon the porch of salvation, and 
 never entering in*? Why feel conviction, and never obey? 
 Why admire saintliness, and not seek it % Why weary of 
 the world, and not rise unto the world to come"? Why 
 apprehend death, and not think of it? Why foresee judg- 
 ment, and not prepare for it? Why shudder at doom, 
 and not flee from the wrath to come % Oh ! flee from the 
 wrath to come, for you are often warned. Already the 
 axe is laid to the root of the trees, and they are falling 
 fruitless into the fire unquenchable." 
 
 BISHOP SHERLOCK 
 
 Must be distinguished from the Dean of the same name. 
 The latter was attacked by Dr South for his want of 
 orthodoxy. South dedicated his volume to the Dean's 
 admirers, and to himself, the chief of them. When 
 Dr Nicholls waited on Lord Chancellor Hardwicke with 
 a copy of the first volume of Bishop Sherlock's sermons, 
 in November 1753, his lordship asked him whether there 
 was not a sermon on St John xx. 30, 31? Dr Nicholls 
 having replied in the affirmative, the Lord Chancellor 
 desired him to turn to the conclusion, and repeated, word 
 for word, the animated contrast between the Christian 
 and Mohammedan religion, beginning, " Go to your natu- 
 ral rehgion," &c., to the end of the discourse. 
 
 This sermon had been pubfished singly not less than 
 thirty years before. The chief circumstance which serves 
 to account for the lively impression it had made on the 
 mind of Lord Hardwicke, was not, after all, its re- 
 markable eloquence, but the fact that he had probably 
 heard it when Sherlock was Master of the Temple 3 aa 
 
294 ^^ Blair on Bishop Sherlock. 
 
 office which he held from 1704 to 1753. In the farewell 
 letter which he addressed to the Treasurer and Masters of 
 the Bench, he declares that he esteemed his " relation to 
 the two Societies of the Temple to have been the greatest 
 happiness of his life, as it introduced him to some of the 
 greatest men of the age, and afforded him the oppor- 
 tunities of living and conversing with gentlemen of a 
 liberal education, and of great learning and experience." 
 
 Dr Blair, in his lectures on rhetoric, points out the very- 
 passage which Lord Hardwicke so much admired, as an 
 instance of personification carried as far as prose, even in 
 its highest elevation, will admit. The well-known critic 
 remarks, " This is more than elegant ; it is truly sublime." 
 
 When Sherlock was promoted to the Mastership of the 
 Temple he was only in the twenty-sixth year of his age. 
 So early an elevation gave some offence ; yet it took place 
 at a time when preferments were not lightly bestowed. 
 Mr Sherlock in a short period exhibited such unusual 
 ability, and made such a hvely impression, as removed all 
 prejudice against him. He exerted the utmost diligence 
 in the cultivation of his talents ; his learning and elo- 
 quence were conspicuous; and in the course of a few 
 years he became one of the most celebrated preachers of 
 the age. He had a slight natural impediment, a sort of 
 thickness of speech ; yet he delivered his sermons with so 
 much propriety and power as to rivet the attention and 
 command the admiration of the hearer. His portrait 
 represents a man of more than ordinary largeness of brain 
 and breadth of intellect. 
 
 When Bishop Sherlock had published his fourth volume 
 of discourses, some friends were expressing a wish tliat he 
 would give orders for his occasional sermons, which he 
 
specimen of SherlocJi s Style. 295 
 
 had printed separately, to be collected into a volume. 
 Dr Newton said upon it, that perhaps Bishop Sherlock 
 was of the same mind as Bishop Manningham, for when 
 Dr Thomas Manningham, his son, who was afterwards 
 Prebendary of Westminster, applied to him in the name 
 of the booksellers, that they might have leave to collect 
 into a volume the different sermons which he had printed 
 at different times, for there was a sufficient number to 
 make a volume, the Bishop replied, " Prithee, Tom, let 
 them alone, they be quiet now; put them together, and 
 they will fight." This fourth and last volume of his dis- 
 courses Bishop Sherlock was prevailed upon to publish, at 
 the request of his friend Gilbert West. The Bishop was 
 against publishing any more sermons, saying, he was 
 drawn to the dregs. " Why then," replied Mr West, 
 '' let the ungodly of the earth drink them and suck them 
 out." 
 
 The following passage on miracles has always been con- 
 sidered by critics as peculiarly cogent : — 
 
 " Miracles are a supernatural proof of a divine power 
 and providence ; and no man who believes that there 
 ever was a true miracle wrought can be an atheist. And 
 therefore it is no wonder that atheists are such professed 
 enemies to the belief of miracles ; but it is a great wonder 
 that they can persuade themselves to reject all those 
 authentic relations we have of miracles, both from the law 
 of Moses and from the gospel of Christ, which are the 
 most credible histories in the world — if we look upon 
 them as no more than histories — and have obtained the 
 most universal belief. Especially this is very unaccount- 
 able in those men who pretend to deism, to acknowledge 
 a God who made the world. For cannot that God who 
 
296 The Orkney Assista?it Curate. 
 
 made the world, and made nature, act without, or above, 
 or against nature when He pleases "? And may it not 
 become the divine wisdom and goodness to do this, when 
 it is necessary, for the more abundant conviction of man- 
 kind, who are sunk in atheism or idolatry? when signs 
 and wonders are necessary to awaken man into the sense 
 and belief of God and His providence? which was the 
 case in the days of Moses; or to give authority to 
 prophets to declare and reveal the will of God to men ; 
 (which was a reason for miracles as long as God thought 
 fit to make any new and public revelations of His will ;) 
 when it is as reasonable and credible that God, who can, 
 when He pleases, should sometimes work miracles, as it 
 is that He should take care to preserve the knowledge of 
 Himself and His will, and to restore it when it is lost ; or 
 to make such new discoveries of His grace as the fallen 
 state of mankind requires ; when, I say, the thing itself is 
 so credible and worthy of God, what reasonable pretence 
 can there be for rejecting miracles, for which we have the 
 authority of the best attested history in the world." — 
 Sherlock. 
 
 THE ORKNEY ASSISTANT CURATE. 
 
 Sir Hugh Dalrymple, a Scottish baronet, during the 
 last century, once paid a visit to the Orkneys, and was 
 much struck with the eloquence of a poor assistant minis- 
 ter, whom he accidentally had the pleasure of hearing. 
 He wrote to Sir Lawrence Dundas, father of the late 
 Lord Dundas, in whose gift was the church where the 
 curate officiated, requesting the reversion gift for the 
 assistant. The letter, which quaintly blends humour and 
 benevolence together, was in the following terms : — 
 
The Orkney Assistant Curate. 297 
 
 " Dear Sir, — Having spent a long time in the pursuit 
 of pleasure and health, I am now retired with the gout ; 
 so joining with Solomon that 'all is vanity and vexation 
 of spirit,' I go to church and say my prayers. I assure 
 you that most of us religious people reap some little satis- 
 faction in hoping that you wealthy voluptuaries have a 
 fair chance of being lost to all eternity, and that Dives 
 shall call on Lazarus for a drop of water; which he 
 seldom tasted when he had the twelve apostles in his 
 cellar. 
 
 " Now, sir, that this doctrine is laid down, I wish to 
 give you a loop-hole to escape through. Going to church 
 last Sunday, 1 saw an unknown man in the pulpit ; and 
 rising up to prayer, I began, as others do on the like 
 occasion, to look round the church to see if there were 
 any pretty girls in it, when my attention was roused by 
 the foreign accent of the parson. I gave him my ear, and 
 had my devotion awakened by the most pathetic prayer 
 I ever heard. This made me more and more attentive to 
 the sermon. A finer discourse never came from the lips 
 of man. I returned in the afternoon, and heard the same 
 preacher exceed his morning's work by the finest chain of 
 reasoning, conveyed by the most elegant expressions. I 
 immediately thought on what Felix said to Paul, ' Almost 
 thou persuadest me to be a Christian.' I sent to ask the 
 man of God to honour my roof, and to dine with me. I 
 inquired of him his country and what not. I even asked 
 him if his sermons were of his own composition, which he 
 affirmed they were. I assure you, I believed they were ; 
 never man had spoken or written better. 
 
 " ' My name is Dishington,' said he ; ' I am assistant to 
 a mad minister in the Orkneys, who enjoys a rich benefice 
 
298 The Orkney Assistafit Curate. 
 
 of fift}^ pounds a year, of which I have twenty-eight pounds 
 yearly for preaching to and instructing twelve hundred 
 people, who live in separate islands. Of this sum I pay 
 one pound five shillings to the boatman, who by turns 
 transports me from one island to another. I should be 
 happy if I could continue in this terrestrial paradise, but 
 we have a great lord, who has a great many little people 
 about him, soliciting a great many little things that he 
 can do an4 that he cannot do ; and if my minister was to 
 die, his succession is too great a prize not to raise up too 
 many rivals to baulk the hopes of my preferment.' 
 
 " I asked him if he possessed any other wealth. ' Yes,' 
 said he, ' I married the prettiest girl in the island, and she 
 has blessed me with three children ; and, as we are both 
 young, we may expect more. * Besides,' said he, ' I am 
 so beloved in the parish, that I have all my peats led 
 carriage free.' This is my story; now to the prayer of 
 the petition. 
 
 " I never before envied you your possession of the 
 Orkneys, which I now do, to provide for this innocent, 
 eloquent apostle. The sun has refused your barren isles 
 his kindly influence ; do not deprive them of so pleasant a 
 preacher; let not so great a treasure be lost to that in- 
 hospitable country; for I assure you, were the Arch- 
 bishop of Canterbury to hear him preach, he could do no 
 less than make him an archdeacon. The m.an has but 
 one weakness, that of preferring the Orkneys to all the 
 earth. The way, and no other, you have a chance for 
 salvation, — do this man good, and he will pray for you. 
 This will be a better purchase than your Irish estate or 
 the Orkneys, and I think will help me forward too, since 
 I am the man who told of the man, so worthy, so elo- 
 
Vr Hoincdi, 299 
 
 quent, so deserving, and so pious, and whose prayers may- 
 do so much good. Till I hear from you on this head, I 
 am yours in all meekness, love, and benevolence, 
 
 " H. D." 
 
 DR HORNECK, 
 
 Who was preacher at the Royal Chapel of the Savoy from 
 1671 to 1696, enjoyed much popularity on account of the 
 eloquent and pathetic style of his sermons. His hearers 
 were gathered from all parts of London, so that Dean 
 Freeman used to say that Dr Horneck's parish was by 
 far the most extensive in London, for it reached from 
 Whitehall to Whitechapel. It is, however, remarkable, 
 that when he w^as mentioned as a suitable person for 
 the living of St Paul's, Covent Garden, the inhabitants of 
 that parish were so averse to him that Archbishop Tillot- 
 son says, '' that if the Earl of Bedford had liked him, 
 (which it would seem, he did not,) he could not have 
 thought it fit to bestow the living on him, knowing how 
 necessary it is to the good effect of a man's ministry that 
 he do not He under any great prejudice with the people." 
 
 Dr Birch remarks that the grounds of the great hostility 
 to Dr Horneck, on the part of the Covent Garden people, 
 are not very apparent. Bishop Kidder, his biographer, 
 sets him forth as one of the brightest examples of elo- 
 quence and piety, " He had," says Kidder, " the zeal, 
 the spirit, the courage of John the Baptist, and durst 
 reprove a great man. Perhaps that man lived not who 
 was more conscientious in this matter." 
 
 A seaman's criticism. 
 A clergyman preaching in the neighbourhood of Wap- 
 ping, observed that his hearers were for the most part ia 
 
3O0 Dr Willia7nso7i — Dr Alossman. 
 
 the seafaring way. He therefore embelHshed his sermon 
 with several nautical metaphors. " Be ever on the watch," 
 said he, '' so that on whatsoever tack the evil one should 
 bear down upon you, he may be crippled in action." 
 "Ay, master," muttered a jolly tar, who was devoutly 
 listening, " but let me tell you, that will depend on your 
 having the weather-gage of him." A just, though whimsical 
 remark. 
 
 DR WILLIAMSON, 
 
 Was, during part of the last century, the Vicar of Moulton, 
 in Lincolnshire. It is narrated of him that he had a 
 violent quarrel with one of his parishioners of the name of 
 Hardy, who showed considerable resentment. On the 
 following Sunday the doctor is said to have preached 
 from the following text, which he pronounced with much 
 emphasis, and with a significant look at Mr Hardy, who 
 was present : " There is no fool like the fool hardy." 
 An irreverent but witty perversion, illustrating the manner 
 and taste of the period. 
 
 dr mossman, 
 A Scottish Presbyterian minister, is said to have made the 
 following singular distinction in preaching on the Third 
 Commandment. " O Sirs, this is a very great sin ! For 
 my own part, I would rather steal all the horned cattle in 
 the parish, than take that holy name in vain ! " 
 
 ROBERT hall's 
 
 Method of preaching is thus described by Dr Olinthus 
 Gregory, his biographer : — 
 
 " Mr Hall began with hesitation, and often in a very 
 low and feeble voice. As he proceeded, his manner be- 
 
specimen of Robert HalVs Style, 3CI 
 
 came easy, graceful, and at last highly impassioned ; his 
 voice also acquired more flexibility, body, and sweetness ; 
 and in all his happier and more successful efforts, swelled 
 into a stream of the most touching and impressive melody. 
 The further he advanced, the more spontaneous, natural, 
 and free from labour seemed the progression of thought. 
 ... In his subhmer strains not only was every faculty of 
 the soul enkindled and in entire operation, but his very 
 features seemed fully to sympathise with the spirit, and to 
 give out, nay, to ihroiv out, thought and sentiment and 
 feeling." 
 
 The following passage from one of his sermons will 
 make the reflective reader desire to know more of them. 
 He was unquestionably the first Nonconformist orator of 
 the age : — 
 
 " It remains with you, then, to decide whether that free- 
 dom, at whose voice the kingdoms of Europe awoke from 
 that sleep of ages, to run a career of virtuous emulation in 
 everything great and good ; the freedom which dispelled 
 the mists of superstition, and invited the nations to behold 
 their God ; whose magic touch kindled the rays of genius, 
 the enthusiasm of poetry, and the flow of eloquence; 
 the freedom which poured into our lap opulence and arts, 
 and embellished life with innumerable institutions and 
 improvements, till it became a theatre of wonders — it is 
 for you to decide whether this freedom shall yet survive, 
 or be covered with a funeral pall, and wrapt in eternal 
 gloom. It is not necessary to await your determination. 
 In the solicitude you feel to approve yourselves worthy of 
 such a trust, every thought of what is afilicting in warfare, 
 every apprehension of danger must vanish, and you are 
 impatient to mingle in the battle of the civiHsed world. 
 
3C2 specimen of Robert Hail's Style. 
 
 Go, then, ye defenders of your country,* accompanied 
 with every auspicious omen ; advance with alacrity into 
 the field, where God himself musters the hosts to war. 
 Religion is too much interested in your success not to 
 lend you all her aid; she will shed over this enterprise her 
 selectest influence. While you are engaged in the field, 
 many will repair to the closet, many to the sanctuary ; the 
 faithful of every name will employ that prayer which has 
 power with God ; the feeble hands, which are unequal to 
 any other weapon, will grasp the sword of the Spirit ; and 
 from myriads of humble, contrite hearts, the voice of inter- 
 cession, supplication, and w^eeping, will mingle in its ascent 
 to heaven with the shouts of battle and the shock of arms. 
 " While you have everything to fear from the success of 
 the enemy, you have every means of preventing that success, 
 so that it is next to impossible for victory not to crown 
 your exertions. The extent of your resources, under God, 
 is equal to the justice of your cause. But should provi- 
 dence determine otherwise, should you fall in this struggle, 
 should the nation fall, you will have the satisfaction (the 
 purest allotted to men) of having performed your part ; 
 your names will be enrolled with the most illustrious dead, 
 while posterity, to the end of time, as often as they re- 
 volve the events of this period, (and they will incessantly 
 revolve them,) will turn to you a reverential eye, while they 
 mourn over the freedom which is entombed in your 
 sepulchre. I cannot but imagine that the virtuous heroes, 
 legislators, and patriots, of every age and country, are 
 bending from their elevated seats to witness this contest, 
 as if they were incapable, till it be brought to a favourable 
 
 * A company of volunteers attended public worship on this occa- 
 sion. — Ed. 
 
Robert Hall on Family Prayer. 503 
 
 issue, of enjoying their eternal repose. Enjoy that rej^ose, 
 illustrious immortals ! Yourmantle fell where you ascended ; 
 and thousands, inflamed with your spirit and impatient to 
 tread in your steps, are ready to swear by Him that sitteth 
 upon the throne, and liveth for ever and ever, they will pro- 
 tect freedom in her last asylum, and never desert that 
 cause which you sustained by your labours, and cemented 
 ■with your blood. And thou, sole ruler among the children 
 of men, to whom the shields of the earth belong, gird on 
 thy stvoj'd, thou Most Mighty, go forth with our hosts in 
 the day of battle ! Impart, in addition to their hereditary 
 valour, that confidence of success which springs from thy 
 presence ! Pour into their hearts the spirit of departed 
 heroes ! Inspire them with thine own ; and while led by 
 thine hand, and fighting under thy banners, open thou 
 their eyes to behold in every valley, and in every plain, 
 what the prophet beheld by the same illumination — 
 chariots of fire, and horses of fire ! Then shall the strojig 
 man be as tozv, a7id the maker of it as a spark; and they 
 shall both burn together, and ?ione shall quench them.'" 
 
 Mr Hall was born at Arnsby, near Leicester, May 2, 
 1764. He was for some time the Baptist minister of 
 Cambridge. He afterwards removed to Leicester, and 
 from thence to Bristol, where he died in the year 1831. 
 
 The sermons of Robert Hall w^ere not only remarkable 
 for close reasoning and brilliant declamation, but for pro- 
 verbs and apothegms, aptly quoted to point an argument. 
 Some of these have rem.ained in the minds of the hearers, 
 Uke cannon-balls deeply set in a wall. One quaint saying of 
 his is still remembered in Leicester : '' Family prayer, sir, 
 is the edge and the border wdiich keeps the web of life 
 from unravelling." 
 
304 Vanity of Clerical Authorship. 
 
 Robert Hall, desiring a license to commence preach- 
 ing, was appointed to deliver an address in the vestry of 
 Broadmead Chapel from i Tim. iv. 10 : " Therefore we 
 both labour and suffer reproach, because we trust in the 
 living God, who is the Saviour of all men, specially of 
 those that beheve." After proceeding for a short time, 
 much to the gratification of his auditory, he suddenly 
 paused, and, covering his face with his hands, exclaimed, 
 " Oh ! I have lost my ideas," and sat down, his hands 
 still hiding his face. 
 
 The failure, however painful as it was to his tutors and 
 humiliating to himself, was such as rather augmented than 
 diminished their persuasion of what he could accomplish, 
 if once he acquired self-possession. He was therefore ap- 
 pointed to speak again on the same subject, at the same 
 place, the ensuing week. 
 
 This second attempt was accompanied by a second 
 failure, still more painful to witness, and still more 
 grievous to bear. He hastened from the vestry, and, on 
 retiring to his room, exclaimed, " If this does not humble 
 me, the devil must have me." Such were the early efforts 
 of him whose humihty afterwards became as conspicuous 
 as his talents ; and who, for nearly half a century, excited 
 universal attention and admiration by the splendour of his 
 pulpit eloquence. 
 
 Vanity of Clerical Authorship. 
 A poor vicar in a very remote county had, on some 
 popular occasion, preached a sermon so exceedingly 
 acceptable to his parishioners, that they entreated him to 
 print it, which, after due and solemn deliberation, he pro- 
 mised to do. This was the most remarkable incident in 
 
Vanity of Clerical Aiitho7'ship. 305 
 
 his life, and filled his mind with a thousand fancies. The 
 conclusion, however, of all his consultations with himself 
 was, that he should obtain both fame and money, and 
 that a journey to the metropolis to direct and superintend 
 the great concern, was indispensable. After taking a 
 formal leave of his friends and neighbours, he proceeded 
 on his journey. On his arrival in town, by great good for- 
 tune, he was recommended to the worthy and excellent 
 Mr Bowyer, to whom he triumphantly related the object 
 of his journey. The printer agreed to his proposals, and 
 required to know how many copies he would choose to 
 have struck off. " Why, sir," returned the clergyman, " I 
 have calculated that there are in the kingdom so many 
 thousand parishes, and that each parish will at least take 
 one, and others more ; so that I think we may venture to 
 print about thirty-five or thirty-six thousand copies." 
 The printer bowed, the matter was settled, and the rever- 
 end author departed in high spirits to his home. With 
 much difficulty and great self-denial, a period of about two 
 months was suffered to pass, when his golden visions so tor- 
 mented his imagination that he could endure it no longer, 
 and accordingly wrote to Mr Bowyer desiring him to send 
 the debtor and creditor account, most liberally permitting 
 the remittances to be forwarded at Mr B.'s convenience. 
 Judge of the astonishment, tribulation, and anguish, ex- 
 cited by the receipt of the following account, or something 
 very much resembling it : — 
 
 The Rev^. Dr. £ s. d. 
 
 To printing and paper, 35,000 copies of 
 
 sermon, 785 5 6 
 
 Cr. By the sale of 17 copies of said sermon, 156 
 
 Balance due to Mr Bowyer, . . . 784 o o 
 
 u 
 
3o6 Pulpit Flattery. 
 
 They who know the character of this most aniiable and 
 excellent printer, will not be at all surprised to hear that, 
 in a day or two, a letter to the following purport was for- 
 warded to the clergyman : — " Rev. sir, — I beg pardon for 
 innocently amusing myself at your expense, but you need 
 not give yourself uneasiness. I knew better than you 
 could do the extent of the sale of single sermons, and 
 accordingly printed but fifty copies, to the expense of 
 which you are heartily welcome, in return for the liberty I 
 have taken with you," &c., &c. 
 
 Pulpit Flattery. 
 One of the first acts performed by George III., after his 
 accession to the throne, was to issue an order prohibiting 
 any of the clergy who should be called to preach before 
 him, from paying him any compliment in their discourses. 
 His Majesty was led to this from the fulsome adulation 
 which Dr Thomas Wilson, prebendary of Westminster, 
 thought proper to deliver in the Chapel Royal ; and for 
 which, instead of thanks, he received from his royal audi- 
 tor a pointed reprimand, his Majesty observing " that he 
 came to chapel to hear the praises of God, and not his 
 own." This circumstance operated wonderfully on the 
 reverend orator, as from that moment he became a flaming 
 patriot. The Doctor took part with Wilkes, was made 
 liveryman of the Joiners' Company, and lavished large sums 
 upon Mrs Macauley, the republican historian, in whose 
 honour he caused a small statue to be erected in his 
 church at Walbrook ; though before he died he ordered 
 it to be removed, not indeed so much from a sense of the 
 impropriety of the thing, as out of resentment to the lady, 
 who had displeased him by her marriage. 
 
The Good Preacher — Whimsical Interruption, 307 
 
 The Good Preacher, 
 *' Would I describe a preacher such as Paul, 
 Were he on earth, would hear, approve, and own, 
 Paul should himself direct me. I would trace 
 His master-strokes, and draw from his design j 
 I would express him simple, grave, sincere ; 
 In doctrine uncorrupt ; in language plain, 
 And plain in manner ; decent, solemn, chaste, 
 And natural in gesture ; much impress'd 
 Himself, as conscious of his awful charge, 
 And anxious mainly that the flock he feeds 
 May feel it too ; affectionate in look, 
 And tender in address, as well becomes 
 A messenger of grace to guilty man." 
 
 Cowper's Task, b. ii. 
 
 Whi7nsical Interruption, 
 When Dr Bradon was rector of Eltham, in Kent, the 
 text he one day took to preach from was, " Who art 
 thou ^" After reading the text, he made (as was his cus- 
 tom) a pause, for the congregation to reflect upon the 
 words ; when a gentleman in a military dress, who at the 
 instant was marching very sedately up the middle aisle of 
 the church, supposing it a question addressed to him, to 
 the surprise of all present, replied : — " I am, sir, an officer 
 of the seventeenth regiment of foot, on a recruiting party 
 here j and having brought my wife and family with me, I 
 wish to be acquainted with the neighbouring clergy and 
 gentry." This so deranged the divine and astonished the 
 congregation, that though they attempted to listen with 
 decorum, he could not continue the discourse without con- 
 siderable difliculty. 
 
3© 8 Eledioneerijig Sermon. 
 
 Eledioneeriiig Sei^mon. 
 At an election for the town of Bedford, Mr Whitebread 
 and Howard the philanthropist were opposed to Sir W. 
 Wake and a Mr Sparro7v. A clergyman of the EstabHshed 
 Church, a warm supporter of the former candidates, one 
 Sunday morning, during the heat of the election, took for 
 his text that passage of St Matthew's Gospel in which the 
 question is proposed by our Lord to his disciples, " Are 
 not two Sparrows sold for a farthing]" Whence this 
 encouragement to their perseverance and their faith 
 deduced : *' Fear ye not, therefore, ye are of more value 
 than many Sparrows^ 
 
 THE REV. MR FAWKES. 
 
 The Rev. Mr Fawkes, in the year 1739, being at that 
 time curate of Doncaster, thought fit to preach a sermon 
 on the erection of an organ in the church. After having 
 wound up his imagination to the highest pitch, in praise of 
 church music, he adds, addressing himself to the organ, 
 *' But what ! O what ! what shall I call thee by % thou 
 divine box of sound !" 
 
 Ingenious Method of Exciting Attention. 
 A clergyman preaching a charity sermon, Feb. 4, 1778, 
 at a church in the City of London, during his discourse 
 pulled out of his pocket a newspaper, and read from it the 
 following paragraph, viz. — "On Sunday the 18th of January, 
 two ponies run on the Uxbridge road, twenty miles for 
 twenty guineas, and one gained it by about half a head ; 
 both ponies ridden by their owners." Also another para- 
 graph of the same kind, of a race on the Romford road 
 on a Sunday. He made an apology for reading part of 
 
William Himiingdon. 309 
 
 a newspaper in the pulpit, said he beheved it was the first 
 instance of the kind, and he sincerely wished there never 
 might be occasion for the like again. He then pointed 
 out the heinous sin of Sabbath-breaking. 
 
 WILLIAM HUNTINGDON 
 
 Published an account of himself, which he called " God the 
 Guardian of the Poor, and the Bank of Faith." His name 
 was William Huntingdon, and he styled himself S. S., which 
 signified Sinnner Saved. The tale which this man told was 
 truly curious. He was originally a coal-heaver, but finding 
 praying and preaching a more profitable trade, he ventured 
 upon the experiment of living by faith alone ; and the 
 experiment answered. The man had talents, and soon 
 obtained hearers. It was easy to let them know, without 
 asking for either, that he relied upon them for food and 
 clothing. At first, supplies came in slowly — a pound of 
 tea and a pound of sugar at a time, and sometimes an 
 old suit of clothes. As he got more hearers, they found 
 out that it was for their credit he should make a better 
 appearance in the world. If at any time things did not 
 come when they were wanted, he prayed for them, know- 
 ing well when his prayers would be heard. As a specimen, 
 take a story which is annexed in his own words : — '' Having 
 now had my horse for some time, and riding a great deal 
 every week, I soon wore my breeches out, as they were not 
 fit to ride in. I hope the reader will excuse me mention- 
 ing the word breeches^ which 1 should have avoided, had 
 not this passage of Scripture intruded into my mind, just 
 as I bad resolved in my mind not to mention this kind 
 providence of God. ' And thou shalt make linen breeches 
 to cover their nakedness, from the loins even unto the 
 
310 William Himtifigdon. 
 
 thighs shall they reach/ &c. Exod. xxviii. 42, 43. By which 
 and three others, (namely Ezek. xliv. 18, Lev. vi. 10, 
 and xvi. 4,) I saw that it was no crime to mention the 
 word breeches, nor the way in which God sent them to me. 
 Aaron and his sons being clothed entirely by Providence ; 
 and as God himself condescended to give orders what they 
 should be made of, and how they should be cut, and I 
 believe the same God ordered mine, as I trust it will 
 appear in the following history. The Scripture tells us to 
 call no man master, for one is our master, even Christ. I 
 therefore told my most bountiful and ever-adored master 
 what I wanted, and He who stripped Adam and Eve of 
 their fig-leaved aprons, and made coats of skins and 
 clothed them, and who clothes the grass of the field, 
 which to-day is, and tomorrow is cast into the oven, must 
 clothe us, or we shall soon go naked : and so Israel found 
 it when God took away his wool and his flax, which they 
 prepared for Baal, for which iniquity were their skirts dis- 
 covered, and their heels made bare, Jeremiah xiii. 22. I 
 often made very free in my prayers with my valuable 
 Master for this favour, but He still kept me so amazingly 
 poor, that I could not get them at any rate. At last I was 
 determined to go to a friend of mine at Kingston, who is 
 of that branch of business, to bespeak a pair; and to get 
 him to trust me until my Master sent me money to pay 
 him. I was that day going to London, fully determined to 
 bespeak them as I rode through the town. However, 
 when I passed the shop I forgot it ; but' when I came to 
 London, I called on Mr Crowder, a shoemaker in Shep- 
 herd's Market, who told me a parcel was left there for me, 
 but what it was he knew not ; I opened it, and behold 
 there was a pair of leather breeches with a note in them, 
 
Huniingdoii^ s Self-assurance. 311 
 
 the substance of which was^ to the best of ray remembrance, 
 as follows : — ' Sir, I have sent you a pair of breeches, and 
 hope they will fit. I beg your acceptance of them ; and 
 if they want any alteration, leave in a note what the alter- 
 ation is, and I will call in a few days and alter them, I. S.' 
 I tried them on, and they fitted as well as if I had been 
 measured for them ; at which I was amazed, having never 
 been measured by any leather breeches maker in London. 
 I wrote an answer to the note to this effect. ' Sir, I re- 
 ceived your present, and thank you for it. I was going to 
 order a pair of leather breeches to be made, because I did 
 not know till now that my Master had bespoke them of 
 you. They fit very well ; which fully convinces me that 
 the same God who moved thy heart to give, guided thy 
 hand to cut : because He perfectly knows my size, having 
 clothed me in a miraculous manner for near five years. 
 When you are in trouble, sir, I hope you wdll tell my 
 Master of this, and what you have done for me, and He 
 will repay you with honour.' This is as nearly as I am 
 able to relate it, and I added, ' I cannot make out I. S., 
 unless I put I. for Israelite indeed, and S. for Sincerity : 
 because you did not ' sound a trumpet before you as the 
 hypocrites do.' About that time twelvemonths I got 
 another pair of breeches in the same extraordinary man- 
 ner, without my ever being measured for them." 
 
 Step by step, by drawing on his Master, as he called Him, 
 and persuading the congregation to accept his drafts, this 
 Sinner Saved got two chapels of his ov/n, a house in the 
 country, and a coach to carry him backwards and forwards. 
 
 " During the space of three years," says Mr Huntingdon, 
 " I secretly wished in my soul that God would favour me 
 with a chapel of my own, being sick of the errors that 
 
312 Huntingdon's Success. 
 
 were perpetually broached by some one or other in Mar- 
 garet Street Chapel,'"' where I then preached. But though 
 I so much desired this, yet I could not. 
 
 " I will now inform my reader of the kind providence 
 of my God, at the time of building my new chapel, which 
 I named Providence Chapel, and also mention a few free- 
 will offerings which the people brought. 
 
 "The name that I gave to the chapel has offended 
 many. However, since it was named, I have seen a place 
 called Providence Court, and a chapel called Trinity 
 Chapel, where the Trinity is little known, I believe. This 
 was not the case at the naming of Providence Chapel. 
 
 " But to return. They first offered about eleven pounds, 
 and laid it on the foundation at the beginning of the build- 
 ing. A good gentleman, with whom I had but little 
 acquaintance, and of whom I bought a load of timber, 
 sent it in with a bill and receipt in full, as a present to 
 the Chapel of Providence. Another good man came, 
 with tears in his eyes, and blessed me, and desired to 
 paint my pulpit, desk, (&:c., as a present to the chapel. 
 Another person gave half-a-dozen chairs for the vestry; 
 and my friends, Mr and Mrs Lyons, furnished me with 
 a tea-chest well stored, and a set of china. My good 
 friends, Mr and Mrs Smith, furnished me with a very 
 handsome bed, bedstead, and all its furniture and neces- 
 saries, that I might not be under the necessity of walking 
 home in the cold winter nights. A daughter of mine in 
 the faith gave me a looking-glass for my chapel study; 
 another friend gave me my pulpit cushion and a book- 
 case for my study ; another gave me a book-case for the 
 
 * Where now stands the stately and celebrated church of All Saints, 
 Margaret Street, Cavendish Square. 
 
The Ret). William Howels. 
 
 313 
 
 vestry. And my good friend, Mr E., seemed to level all 
 his displeasure at the devil ; for he was in hopes I should 
 be enabled, through the gracious arm of the Lord, to cut 
 Rahab in pieces. Therefore he furnished me with a 
 sword of the Spirit — a new Bible, with morocco binding 
 and silver clasps." 
 
 THE REV. WILLIAM HOWELS, 
 
 For mai\y years the minister of the Episcopal Chapel, 
 Long Acre, London, was born near Cowbridge, in Glamor- 
 ganshire, in the year 1777. He stands conspicuous in the 
 group of devout men who commenced and formed the 
 evangelical party in the Church of England — such as 
 Cecil, Simeon, Venn, John Newton. Like many other 
 eminent persons — such as St Augustine and St Bernard, 
 Bishop Hall and Richard Hooker — he left on record his 
 grateful acknowledgments to the care of his pious mother. 
 The character of Mr Howels' preaching has thus been 
 described by one of the most eminent living orators of 
 the Church, the Rev. Canon Melvill : — 
 
 '' Mr Howels possessed a mind of uncommon power ; 
 whilst others were passing on slowly, step by step, he 
 could leap at once to the conclusion. Logical in the 
 arrangement of his thoughts, but quick-sighted to discern 
 truths afar off, he knew how to lead others from stage to 
 stage, but needed not for himself the intermediate demon- 
 stration. His faculties were of that class which would 
 have pre-eminently qualified him for mathematical inves- 
 tigation. And when these faculties were turned on theo- 
 logy, they enabled him to bring out truths in such con- 
 densed and concentrated form, that less powerful minds 
 could not receive it till broken up and expanded. The 
 
314 -^/^^ ReiK William Howeh. 
 
 style, whether of his preaching or conversation, accorded 
 precisely with the character of his mind. It was a sen- 
 tentious style ; one of his paragraphs would have been 
 another man's sermon. His ideas were great ideas ; and 
 when they struggled forth in their naked and unadorned 
 grandeur, there was a nervousness in his speech which 
 vastly more than compensated the want of the beauties 
 of a highly polished diction. Yet he required to be heard 
 often to be duly appreciated. He was a preacher who, 
 of all others, grew upon his hearers. The stranger who 
 came once might go away disappointed j but each suc- 
 ceeding time he would be admitted so much further into 
 the mind of the speaker, that he would quickly refer his 
 disappointment to his own want of discernment. 
 
 There never was a preacher who more magnified 
 Christ, and never one who more insisted upon holiness. 
 He would show the sinner at the gate of hell, and then, 
 introducing the Saviour, lift him to the gate of heaven. 
 He held, in all its fulness, the doctrine of election, but 
 flung from him, as dishonouring to God, a being of gratui- 
 tous love but not of gratuitous hatred, the doctrine of 
 reprobation. And whilst he believed in the predestination 
 of God's people, how he would insist on human respon- 
 sibleness ! He knew that free agency was essential to 
 man's being accountable for his actions ; and he therefore 
 held no terms with systems which reduce man virtually to 
 nothing but a machine. He took, moreover, the doctrine 
 of justification by faith, in all its power and all its simpli- 
 city. He allowed nothing to be mixed with it. But then, 
 a faith not productive of holiness, a faith not working by 
 love, he spurned the thought as an absurdity. Whilst 
 preaching tliat man is justified by faith, he pursued sin 
 
specimen of HoweVs Style. 315 
 
 into all its corners and doublings, and, according to an 
 expression of his own, summoned believers to take no 
 quarter from the world, and to give none ; and what he 
 preached he practised. I know he must have had faults, 
 because he was but a man ; but I am bold to say that, 
 though I knew his singularities, I did not know his faults. 
 Without question he had them, and he was conscious of 
 them. I remember his speaking of the dangers of minis- 
 ters. He said that, when preparing sermons for others, he 
 found himself in danger of destroying his own soul. If 
 the confession showed that intellectual pride would some- 
 times struggle for the ascendancy, it also showed that he 
 was on his guard against the enemy ; and a Christian on 
 his guard is a Christian half a conqueror." 
 
 The following passages will give some notion of his 
 method, but not convey an idea of the vehemence, pathos, 
 and unction with which they were delivered : — 
 
 " I John iii. 16. We are not called upon to lay down 
 our lives for the brethren ; but we are commanded to 
 seek their good upon all occasions ; to execute their slan- 
 derer, and pull out the tongues of the backbiter, and to 
 ask him. Have you any objection that these things should 
 be fairly and clearly represented to him whom they con- 
 cern? It was well said by Dr Southey, that the tale- 
 teller and the tale-hearer should be hung back to back — 
 one by his tongue, the other by his ears. I am not fond 
 of executions, but I think I would like to see this." 
 
 " ' I will maintain my own integrity,' said Job. There 
 are many little Jobs here at the present moment : perhaps 
 I am one. Well done I. This is Satan's opportunity; 
 the devil shoots flying ; when we soar, he takes his suc- 
 cessful aim j when in the dust, we are safe from his attack. 
 
3 1 6 Specimen of Howel V Style. 
 
 The child climbing up the chairs excites the alarm of his 
 parents, who immediately run to his aid ; but when 
 replaced on the carpet, they know that their child is safe." 
 
 *' There are two errors abroad, both equally awful. 
 Some conceive God to be all mercy ; some believe him 
 all holiness and justice ; some elevate mercy and grace at 
 the expense of justice ; some the contrary. Many look 
 to decrees alone, and before they do anything, travel back 
 to see what interest they have in the book of life. This 
 is hke a child refusing to learn his letters because he does 
 not know how to read." .... 
 
 "Acts xiv. 19. The men who were about to worship 
 St Paul one day, stoned him and left him for dead the 
 day following. My young friends, you will meet many in 
 life who profess the greatest friendship ; prove them 
 before you trust them. Human nature is fickle, and 
 many of them might be among your bitterest enemies. I 
 by no means speak against your forming friendships ; 
 quite the reverse. God never intended we should be 
 stoics; cling to a friend when you meet him. None 
 ever tasted human solace with more pleasure than the 
 Saviour; none ever sucked the honeycomb of human 
 friendship with more gratification than Jesus ! None of 
 you wish to be pious monsters." .... 
 
 " Man is invariably a fool till the wisdom of God en- 
 lightens his soul. Let him fathom the depths of science 
 and mathematics, and though he treads the surface of the 
 sky, measures the limits of space, and discovers worlds 
 which Herschel never saw, still is he a fool till knowledge 
 from on high takes possession of his soul. I cannot help 
 entertaining the idea that the redeemed, besides being 
 eminently holy, shall also be eminently scientific : their 
 
The First Wesley an Methodist Triumvirate. 3 1 7 
 
 eyes shall be opened to behold unnumbered worlds ; they 
 shall stretch their ideas far beyond what telescopes could 
 reach. God shall make room in their breasts for these 
 things besides infinite holiness and infinite love." .... 
 
 " I Pet. i. 2. The foreknowledge of God implies 
 nothing more than the love of God from all eternity. You 
 cannot beat election into the head ; it is a matter of the 
 heart. I do not like controversy, but if obliged to argue 
 on the subject, I would sift the heart, as I once did with 
 a Quaker, who used to tell me, ' I can do this thing and 
 that thing, and restrain from such other thing.' Well, 
 then, I replied, and when you do this and that, and restrain 
 from the other, you plume yourself on your own power, 
 you exalt yourself, and say, ' Well done I,' and not, ' Well 
 done God.' He was immediately convinced. It is thus 
 you should sift the hearts, and not try to drive the doctrine 
 into the head, which is out of your power : convince men 
 of the infernality of their hearts, and then they will love 
 the doctrine of election. The decree of election was 
 absolutely necessary to save men, and the Bible, in the 
 clearest language, proclaims such a decree ; but there is 
 not the shadow of a decree to drive men from God : the 
 sinner in hell will have to confess that he is a suicide." 
 
 The First Wesleyan Alethodist Triumvij-ate. 
 On the death of Mr Wesley there arose three distin- 
 guished men to continue his work. Their names were — 
 
 SAMUEL BRADBURN. 
 
 His divine Master having endowed him with extraordinary 
 gifts for the work of the ministry, he soon became remark- 
 ably popular, and it was frequently with pleasure that 
 
3 1 8 Coldc7i Mules for a Preacher. 
 
 thousands listened to his discourses. Tor several years, 
 he was considered not only as one of the first preachers 
 in the land, for all the higher powers of persuasive elo- 
 quence, but as a faithful labourer in the vineyard of the 
 Lord. Bradburn wrote some remarkably good rules for 
 preachers and preaching. He died July 26, 18 16. 
 
 Some General Rules to be observed iii preparing for the 
 Pulpit. 
 
 1. Never be anywhere, nor in any temper that would 
 unfit you for preaching. It is a reproach to a minister of 
 Jesus Christ to have at any time to say I am not prepared 
 to preach. 
 
 2. Have always a number of texts on a slip of paper in 
 your pocket, as a corps de reserve, with the subjects of 
 which you are well acquainted, so that you can never be 
 taken by surprise. 
 
 3. In studying a sermon in your common dut}^, be more 
 concerned about what the people stand in need of than 
 about gaining their applause for having preached a fine, 
 useless sermon. 
 
 4. It is not easy always to have the mind determined on 
 the text, so that it is sometimes perplexed in the midst of 
 variety what to choose, even during singing and prayer. 
 In this case be firm before you take the pulpit, and, as 
 much as possible, in fixing, fix. 
 
 5. If possible, be alone an hour, and in the pulpit five 
 minutes before the time, that you may be in the spirit of 
 preaching, and have Christ with you. 
 
 Some General Rules to be observed in Preachifig. 
 I. Remember you are speaking for God. Keep a sense 
 
Golden Rules for a Preacher. 319 
 
 of His presence on your mind, that you may say nothing 
 unbecoming the dignity of a Christian minister. 
 
 2. Never lose the absoUite command of your voice and 
 temper. Avoid every appearance of haughtiness and rash 
 anger. If doors should be violently shut when people 
 come in late, or if dogs should run about, and children 
 cry, or whatever disturbance may be made, recollect in- 
 stantly where and who you are, that you may not speak 
 one unguarded word. The people who assemble to hear 
 the Word of God from you, demand from you, at least, 
 respectful treatment. 
 
 3. Speak, if possible, so as to be heard by all present 
 who are not deaf. Look, when you give out the page of 
 the hymn-book, to the farthest person, and you will easily 
 perceive if he hear you, and, of course, how you are to 
 regulate your voice. Should the place require a louder 
 voice than usual, speak more deliberately, so as to preserve 
 a steady command of the attention of your hearers, with- 
 out injuring the beauty of your discourse, or being out of 
 breath. You cannot long speak loud and/^j-/. 
 
 4. Always suppose men present who may hold opinions 
 opposite to yours, and that they are sensible, learned men. 
 This will have a good effect in guarding you against assert- 
 ing anything rashly, or without the best proof you can 
 produce in favour of your thesis. Yet beware of disguis- 
 ing your real sentiments, however you may respect your 
 auditory. " The fear of men bringeth a snare." You 
 may speak with becoming modesty and candour, and yet 
 use great plainness of speech. Say nothing merely to irri- 
 tate a supposed adversary, as provoking language is no 
 argument, and " the wrath of man worketh not the 
 righteousness of God." In general, observe a proper dis- 
 
320 Golden Rules for a Preacher. 
 
 tinction between doctrines and J>ersons : argue upon one, 
 but speak sparingly of the other. 
 
 5. Be truly humble in your own soul, as if Jesus Christ 
 were visible with you in the pulpit. Feel your total insuffi- 
 ciency to do any good without the aid of His Spirit. At 
 the same time, avoid the despicable affectation of pretend- 
 ing to think yourself unfit to be so employed. This sort 
 of cant is generally considered by judicious hearers as 
 mere egotism, and a contemptible way of fishing for praise. 
 Even in prayer before the sermon do not draw the atten- 
 tion of the people to yourself, by mentioning your own 
 unworthiness, calling yourself, in speaking to God, Thy 
 Jfoor dnsl, Thy univorthy woj^m, &c. Strive to draw the 
 attention of all present to j^our subject, not to yourself in 
 any way, nor on any account. 
 
 6. In your manner of preaching beware of making 
 apologies for what you have said, or are going to say. 
 To apologise to 7nan for delivering to him a message from 
 God must be utterly improper. If you " speak as the 
 oracles of God," you will need no apology ; if you do not, no 
 apology can excuse you. With a manly, becoming firm- 
 ness, be at home in the pulpit, feeling a degree of confi- 
 dence in your own ability to tread with propriety the argu- 
 mentative part of your subject. And being satisfied as to 
 the uprightness of your design and motive, expect without 
 fear or doubt the assistance of the Holy Ghost in your 
 work. With the honour of Jesus Christ and the good of 
 mankind in view, feel the importance of all you say, and 
 enforce it with zeal and energy, ever attentive to the sacred 
 suggestion of the divine Spirit enlightening your mind, 
 helping your memory, and affecting your heart ; still recol- 
 lecting that " no rhapsody, no incoherency, whether the 
 
Golden Rules for a Preacher. 321 
 
 things spoken be true or false, cometh of the Spirit of 
 Christ." (See Wesley on Matt. v. 9.) 
 
 7. As explaining the holy Scriptures is one grand part 
 of a holy minister's work, take care that you attempt 
 nothing of the kind till you have examined thoroughly the 
 clear dew^full meaning of the Holy Ghost according to the 
 utmost of your powers, using every help you can get to 
 this end. Beware of allegorising, or, as some call it, 
 spiritualising, lest the true sense of the divine Word should 
 be lost in the figurative, which proves nothing. Therefore, 
 whatever dochHnes are to be believed, whatever duties are 
 to be performed, or whatever points of inward religion are 
 to be experienced, have well-chosen texts to confirm what 
 you advance. The truths being thus established, you may 
 endeavour to impress them on the minds and hearts of 
 your hearers by historical facts, by the illustration of 
 figures, parables, allegories, similes, and various compari- 
 sons ; nor fear using the full force of language, adorned 
 with all the fire of poetry, and the beauties of a glowing 
 iiT^agination. No ; nor when rightly managed, shrink from 
 giving free scope to your active and feeling powers, in the 
 richest charms of pulpit eloquence. Only remember, be- 
 fore you begin to enforce or apply anything, it must be 
 clearly defined and proved in a calm and rational manner, 
 with all the cool firmness of a Christian philosopher. In 
 eveVy part of your pulpit engagements, be neither an air- 
 balloon nor a steam engine; but be as the moon laalking i?i 
 brightness^ and as the Lord in all His glory. 
 
 8. Keep in mind, on all occasions, that though your 
 subject is, above all others, important to rational and im- 
 mortal beings, yet you are speaking to those who are 
 encompassed with human frailties, and engaged in various 
 
 X 
 
32 2 Dr Adam Clarke. 
 
 callings in the world, so that they have, in general, neither 
 time nor taste for lo7ig sermons. How seldom do any per- 
 sons complain of the shortness of a sermon ; how often 
 of its being too long! What a fool then is he who spends 
 his time and strength merely to be blamed ! Besides, long 
 preaching is mostly owing to the subject not being studied 
 enough. Nor must you forget that mere preaching, be 
 the matter ever so good, is no part of the worship of God. 
 And as the worship of God — namely, praise, thanksgivi?igi 
 adoration, and prayer — is the grand design of Christian 
 assemblies, or ought to be so, then be sure always to con- 
 clude your sermon so as to leave time for singing and 
 prayer. In general, on the lueek nights, a sermon should 
 not exceed half-an-hour, or thii^ty-five minutes. The same 
 after dinner. On '^iXm^dLy, forenoon and evening, it may be 
 forty-five or fifty minutes ; certainly, unless on some very 
 extraordinary occasion, the sermon ought to be finished 
 under the hour. Consider yourself, and remember what 
 you have felt on hearing long sermons. 
 
 Upon the whole, let the use of your sermon appear to 
 your hearers. Let your terms be clear and simple, and 
 your manner loving, yet forcible and dignified. Better 
 always to be twenty mimctes under than one mijiute over the 
 hour. Beware of long introductions and definitions. 
 Leave room for a close and warm application. 
 
 Oh, my God and Saviour, assist me ! 
 
 I first drew up these rules in the city of Cork, in Ireland, 
 in the year 1779. 
 
 ADAM CLARKE, LL.D. 
 
 The ability and fervent zeal with which for so many 
 years he preached the gospel of the grace of God, and so 
 
Di' Adam Clarke's PreacJiing. 323 
 
 enraptured thousands in almost every part of the United 
 Kingdom, will long be remembered with the liveliest grati- 
 tude to their divine Redeemer by multitudes to whom 
 his labours were greatly blessed, both as the means of 
 their conversion and of their general edification. No man 
 in any age of the Church was ever known for so long a 
 period to have attracted larger audiences ; no herald of 
 salvation ever sounded forth his message with greater 
 faithfulness or fervour — the fervour of love to Christ, and 
 to the souls of perishing sinners ; and few ministers of the 
 gospel in modern times have been more honoured by the 
 extraordinary unction of the Holy Spirit in their ministra- 
 tions. To this unction chiefly, though associated with 
 uncommon talents, must be attributed the wonderful suc- 
 cess and popularity of his discourses. In preaching he 
 had the happy art of combining great originality and depth 
 of subject with the utmost plainness of speech and manner. 
 Nor was his simplicity at all destroyed, but rather 
 augmented, by the glow and animation of his soul when 
 applying the offer of salvation to all within the sound of 
 his voice, and reasoning strongly on the grand and vital 
 doctrines of the gospel. The ardent feeling which in 
 Others sometimes leads to a rapid invention of elegant or 
 pompous language, in him was confined to the increased 
 accumulation of great and noble sentiments. His favourite 
 and most successful subjects in the pulpit were the love of 
 God to fallen man, the atonement, repentance, faith in 
 Christ as the grand principle of the spiriiual life and of 
 practical holiness, together with the undoubted assurance 
 of adoption by the direct witness of the Holy Spirit in the 
 heart of the believer. On these subjects he would often 
 rise to the genuine grandeur of evangelical preaching, 
 
324 Dr Adam darkens Humour. 
 
 pouring forth like a torrent the unostentatious eloquence 
 of a benevolent and loving heart. Energy was indeed one 
 very peculiar characteristic of his mind. 
 
 He died, in the seventy-second year of his age, on the 
 26th of August, 1832. 
 
 Dr Adam Clarke abounded in humour. He used to 
 say of Irish bulls, that they were delicate strokes of wit, 
 which the crass Anglo-Saxon mind was unable to appre- 
 ciate. One day, in order to relieve a beggar, he borrowed 
 a halfpenny of a friend, without thinking that he should 
 have to answer the question officially put in the conference 
 of his brethren, " Are you in debt ? " When it was put, he 
 answered, " I can say, with a good conscience, not a 
 penny." For many years he preached in a dark blue 
 coat, and never used any canonicals. 
 
 JOSEPH BENSON. 
 
 His talents as a preacher were of an extraordinary kind. 
 Distinct and accurate in his representations of divine 
 truth, powerful in argument, inflamed with the love of 
 Christ, and full of compassion for the perishing souls of 
 unconverted men, he frequently appeared in the pulpit 
 like a messenger from the eternal world. His applications 
 at the close of his sermons were energetic and impressive, 
 almost beyond example. On many occasions, when 
 thousands of hearers were hanging on his lips, the special 
 blessing of God accompanied his ministrations ; his own 
 mind was deeply affected with the awful realities of eter- 
 nity j the people wept aloud, and appeared to be bowed 
 down beneath the power of the Holy Spirit ; and, in 
 innumerable instances, these impressions were permanent. 
 Few ministers in modern times have been so successful in 
 
Dr Jahcz Biuiiing. 325 
 
 the conversion of sinners to God ; and many spiritual 
 children will be his joy, and the crown of his rejoicing, in 
 the day of the Lord. He continued his pious labours in the 
 cause of Christ with unremitting ardour, and maintained 
 by the grace of God an elevated character as a Christian 
 minister for more than fifty years, when he gradually sunk 
 under the infirmities of age, and fell asleep in Jesus. 
 He died February 16, 1821, aged seventy-three years. 
 
 The Second Wesleyan MctJiodisi Triumvirate, 
 
 DR JABEZ BUNTING 
 
 Was born on Ascension Day, May 13, 1779. He mani- 
 fested great talents in early life. His first address to a 
 public assembly was an exhortation in the open air on a 
 Sunday afternoon in Salford, near Manchester ; and on 
 the 1 2th of August, 1798, he preached his first sermon in 
 a cottage, in a place called Sodom, near Blakeley. The 
 following account of his preaching is extracted from a 
 sermon preached on the occasion of his death by my 
 venerable father, his old and famihar friend : — 
 
 " No sooner had Jabez Bunting entered upon the duties 
 of his circuit, than it was manifest that he would take his 
 rank among the first preachers of the age. There was 
 nothing juvenile in his sermons. They rather presented 
 the sobriety, the judgment, and the sohdity of advancing 
 years. His voice was musical, and his utterance singularly 
 clear, distinct, and graceful, without anything to which the 
 most fastidious ear could take exception ; and his manner 
 was animated. His discourses were evidently prepared 
 with great care, the matter of them being arranged with 
 logical accuracy, so that one thought prepared the way for 
 
326 Rohert HaWs Opinion of Bunting 
 
 another ; and every discourse possessed a character of 
 completeness, and left its appropriate impression upon the 
 minds of the hearers. He used but little action in the 
 pulpit, yet his tones and manner otherwise attested the 
 depth of his feeling. 
 
 " The purity of his diction, as an extemporary speaker, 
 forced itself upon the attention of every hearer of correct 
 taste. In the expression of his thoughts it appeared as if, 
 without any effort on his part, the most suitable words in 
 the language suggested themselves to his mind. He there- 
 fore never paused for the right word ; he never had occa- 
 sion to recall any word that he had uttered ; every sentence 
 seemed to be as correct and complete as if it had been 
 prepared with the nicest care ; and its meaning was per- 
 fectly clear and transparent. After hearing him preach, 
 the celebrated Robert Hall — himself one of the most elo- 
 quent men of the age — pronounced his style 'a limpid 
 stream of classic elegance.' 
 
 "But his ministry had still higher qualities. It was 
 thoroughly scriptural. He had a deep impression of the 
 authority of the Bible, as the undoubted word of God, 
 written at the dictation of the Holy Ghost, and therefore 
 as the sure basis of all evangelical instruction. Never was 
 he known to speak lightly or irreverently of any part of 
 Holy Scripture, or to utter a word that was calculated to 
 weaken the faith of any man in the sacred records. He 
 was not accustomed to select a text as a mere motto, but 
 as containing the principles which the sermon was intended 
 to unfold ; the sermon itself generally embraced a con- 
 siderable amount of scriptural quotation ; and almost 
 every passage that might be cited was more or less eluci- 
 dated by some appropriate remark ; so that his hearers, 
 
The MdJiod of Buntings Preaching. 327 
 
 who paid a due attention to his discourses, obtained a 
 growing acquaintance with the oracles of God. His was 
 an expository ministry. 
 
 " Nor was it less remarkable for its evangelical character. 
 He remembered that the message he was sent to deliver 
 was " THE GOSPEL ;" and he never lost sight of his high 
 commission. Christ was the great subject of his preach- 
 ing, after the example of the apostles ; Christ, in the 
 glories of His person as God incarnate, combining every 
 divine perfection with every human excellence ; Christ, in 
 the spotless purity of His nature, and the completeness of 
 His righteousness ; Christ, in the perfection and univer- 
 sality of His sacrifice ; Christ, in the perpetuity and pre- 
 valence of His intercession ; Christ, in the tenderness of 
 His mercy to sinners, and the greatness of His saving 
 power J Christ, as a Saviour from sin, as the sympathising 
 Advocate of His suffering people ; Christ, in the all-suffi- 
 ciency of His grace ; Christ, in the holiness and equity of 
 His mediatorial government ; Christ, as an P2xample whom 
 every believer is bound to imitate ; Christ, as the Sove- 
 reign Lord of all, the Almighty Judge of the living and the 
 dead. 
 
 " It was one great excellence of his preaching that it pre- 
 sented no affectation of novelty, or of what in modern 
 phrase is denominated ' originality.' He had no sym- 
 pathy with the men who seek to bring in ' another gospel,' 
 different from that which Christ committed to His apostles, 
 and which tlie body of the faithful have always recognised. 
 The man who would found a new school of philosophy 
 must be prepared to advance something of which the 
 world has never heard before ; but he who would fulfil 
 Christ's commission must ' preach the word ;' not as a 
 
328 Dr Bunting's Style. 
 
 matter of human discovery, or as requiring the support of 
 philosophy, but as ' the testimony of God,' which man- 
 kind are bound to beheve upon God's authority. What 
 if the preaching of Ghrist crucified be to the self-righteous 
 Jews ' a stumbling-block,' and to the speculative Greeks 
 *fooUshness;' it is, after all, ' the power of God, and the 
 wisdom of God ;' and to no other preaching has He pro- 
 mised to give the sanction of his blessing. 
 
 " Our late friend, in the course of his ministry, gave great 
 prominence to the office and work of the Holy Spirit, in 
 connexion with the mediation of Christ ; representing 
 Him as enlightening the dark minds of fallen men, as 
 awakening the conscience, softening the heart, drawing 
 sinners to their Saviour, imparting to them the power of 
 saving faith, witnessing the adoption of individual be- 
 lievers, regenerating their nature, helping their infirmities 
 in duty, carrying on and completing their sanctification, 
 filling them with peace and joy, and sealing them as the 
 property and heirs of God unto the day of redemption. 
 To the Holy Spirit he was accustomed daily to look for 
 the success of all his ministrations j and not in vain, for 
 His word was with power. 
 
 "Yet, in expatiating upon the absolute freeness of the 
 gospel salvation, he never made Christ the minister of sin, 
 nor ever gave the least countenance to the Antinomian 
 delusion. To show men their need of salvation, he laid 
 bare the deep depravity of the human heart, the fearful 
 amount of guilt arising from that depravity, the terrible 
 penalty of transgression, and the certainty of its infliction, 
 unless justification be sought and obtained through faith 
 in the blood of the cross. Hence his calls to repentance 
 were earnest and importunate. He warned the careless 
 
Dr Biuitijig a Revivahsi. 329 
 
 and delaying sinners in his congregations, he expostulated 
 with them ; he inquired of them why they would die ; he 
 persuaded, he entreated, he besought them to repent, and 
 do works meet for repentance, that so iniquity might not 
 be their ruin. And hence his ministry was eminently 
 awakening in its tendency, as well as in its purpose. He 
 preached as a man who felt that the end to be accom- 
 plished was the conversion and salvation of men ; and 
 that if he failed in this grand object, through any want of 
 zeal and energy on his part, he would be charged with the 
 blood of lost souls, — souls for whom the Son of God came 
 down from heaven and died in agonies upon the cross. 
 
 " On the other hand, in dealing with the contrite and the 
 broken-hearted, he was singularly tender, affectionate, and 
 
 encouraging. 
 
 * * » * * 
 
 " In this most important part of his work he was often 
 successful. Many were by his instrumentality converted 
 from the error of their ways, and won to Christ. Several 
 of them now adorn the doctrine of God our Saviour by a 
 holy and upright life, and not a few of them have gone to 
 their eternal rest. If we might recognise the distinction 
 among ministers which has often been made, we should 
 say that Jabez Bunting belonged to the class of Revival- 
 ists, but not to that class only. 
 
 " For, while his preaching was well adapted to alarm the 
 careless and the worldly, and to bring the penitent to his 
 Saviour, it was no less adapted to the edification and en- 
 couragement of believers. It was remarkable for its 
 variety, embracing the whole range of revealed truth, as it 
 is presented by the Holy Ghost in the form of doctrinal 
 statement, in types, in parables, in historic narrative, ia 
 
330 Dr Biinthig^s Style. 
 
 the examples of holy men, in warnings, in invitations, in 
 promises, in prophecies, in prayer, in praise and thanks- 
 giving. He set before the children of God their high 
 privileges and calling, pressing upon them the duty of 
 going on to perfection ; he warned them of the dangers 
 that beset their path ; he set before them the necessity of 
 universal obedience to the precepts of Christ, often going 
 into detail on the various subjects of Christian duty, and 
 answering every plea for neglect that the deceitfulness of 
 the human heart is apt to suggest ; never forgetting to re- 
 mind them that their great strength lay in the all-sufficient 
 grace of Christ, which He will never withhold from them 
 that call upon Him. 
 
 " In one word, the pulpit labours of this very able 
 minister presented an exact conformity to the model which 
 St Paul thus describes : ' Christ in you, the hope of glory : 
 whom we preach, warning every man, and teaching every 
 man in all wisdom ; that we may present every man per- 
 fect in Christ Jesus : whereunto I also labour, striving 
 according to His working, which worketh in me mightily/ 
 This was the secret of his power as a preacher. The 
 unction of God was upon him, and that unction was rich 
 and abiding. He availed himself of every opportunity for 
 hearing the best preachers of the age ; yet he himself was 
 an imitator of no man, but a pattern from whom the ablest 
 of them might receive instruction. 
 
 " Such a ministry, being in every respect agreeable in its 
 manner, and at the same time evangelical, comprehensive, 
 awakening, converting, instructive, edifying, practical, en- 
 couraging, could not fail to be popular, in the true and 
 best sense of that term ; and, in fact, we find that, until 
 he was borne down by the infirmities of age, eager multi- 
 
Dr Robert Newton, 331 
 
 tudes flocked to the places where he was expected to offi- 
 ciate, listening with silent and delighted attention to dis- 
 courses which it was, indeed, a privilege to hear. They 
 were often long \ for he was full of matter ; but they were 
 always replete with instruction, and always interesting. 
 
 " Let no one suppose that a ministry like this can be 
 attained by the mere force of genius or of natural talents, 
 let them be what they may. It was not thus attained by 
 Dr Bunting. He studied the best sermons in the English 
 language ; he studied the best models of preaching ; he 
 prepared his own sermons with the utmost care, and sub- 
 jected them from time to time to a strict revision. As a 
 preacher he desired great things, he aimed at great things, 
 he laboured patiently to accomplish great things, and 
 hence his success." 
 
 This remarkable man fell asleep, full of years, June 
 16, 1858. 
 
 DR ROBERT NEWTON 
 
 Was born at Roxby, near Whitby, September 8, 1780. 
 He was a man of remarkable eloquence and nobility of 
 manner and form. He expired on Sunday, April 30, 
 1854. His character as a pulpit orator is thus sketched 
 by his biographer : — 
 
 " As a preacher he is well known to have enjoyed emi- 
 nent advantages ; such as a fine open countenance, ex- 
 pressive of perfect frankness, generosity, and honesty of 
 purpose ; his features, as it has often been observed, 
 bearing a strong resemblance to those of Milton. In his 
 person he was handsome and well-proportioned, possess- 
 ing a strength of constitution which seemed to be capable 
 of enduring almost any amount of labour; and he poured 
 
332 Dr Robert New fori. 
 
 forth the truth of God with a deep bass voice of such com- 
 pass and power as even rivalled the tones of a cathedral 
 organ. Of this voice he had a perfect command, so that 
 without an effort he could adapt it to every variety of 
 audience. He could, with equal facility, send forth a 
 volume of sweet sound through the largest and most dense 
 assemblies ; and address, with ease and simphcity, a com- 
 pany of peasants at the end of the dining-table in a 
 farmer's kitchen, or behind a chair in the cottage of a 
 day-labourer. To nervous excitement he was an entire 
 stranger; and hence his incomparable voice never faltered; 
 and he never betrayed any uneasiness at the sight of large 
 and overwhelming congregations. His action was easy 
 and free, and his mode of address always becoming and 
 respectful. 
 
 *' His language was entitled to high praise. His words 
 and idioms were thoroughly English ; and his style pos- 
 sessed that first of all excellences, perspicuity ; so that, 
 to borrow the thought of an ancient critic, the meaning ot 
 his sentences fell upon the mind of the hearer as the light 
 of heaven falls upon the eye. Persons of cultivated in- 
 tellect admired his correct and energetic diction; and 
 * the common people heard him gladly.' They under- 
 stood all that he said ; they felt the power of his word ; 
 they had entire confidence in his integrity ; they believed 
 that he meant to do them good ; and hence, while they 
 hung upon his lips, their hearts often throbbed with de- 
 light. The readiness of his utterance was to him a mighty 
 advantage ; and it may be fairly doubted whether, in the 
 entire course of his ministry, embracing a period of more 
 than fifty years, he was ever known to pause for a single 
 moment for an appropriate word in which to express his 
 
Dr Robert Newton. 
 
 333 
 
 thoughts. Yet we shall greatly mistake his character as a 
 public speaker, if we conclude that his facility of expres- 
 sion led him into the vice of a redundant and unintel- 
 ligible verbiage. His diction was terse and forcible, and 
 his sentences told upon his congregation often with thril- 
 ling effect. 
 
 " As to the substance and matter of his sermons, it may 
 be truly said, that he never lost sight of his Saviour's 
 charge, ' Preach the gospel.' Whoever went to hear 
 him was sure to hear ' the gospel,' in some of its great 
 and leading truths ; such as the glory of Christ's person 
 as God incarnate ; the nature and benefits of His atone- 
 ment ; the gift and work of the Holy Ghost ; the Christian 
 salvation, and the method of its attainment ; the power ot 
 divine truth and grace to elevate and sanctify the charac- 
 ters of men, and prepare them for the heavenly paradise. 
 In his preaching there was nothing dark and cloudy, 
 nothing mystical, nothing merely speculative, nothing that 
 was intended to dazzle and amuse, no affectation of nice 
 criticism, or of metaphysical argument, no darkening of 
 counsel by words without knowledge. All was clear as 
 the noon-day, presenting truth in all its transparency. 
 Neither in his preaching was there anything rhapsodical 
 or incoherent. All his sermons presented an appearance 
 of just arrangement and of careful preparation ; and it was 
 invariably manifest that he had made himself thoroughly 
 master of the subject that he was going to discourse upon 
 before he entered the pulpit. With him the essential 
 verities of the gospel never lost their interest ; he preached 
 them, in all their simplicity, through a long life ; he lived 
 upon them; they were the nutriment of his spirit; they 
 sustained his faith and hope ; and, when he was enfeebled 
 
334 ^^ Robert Newton, 
 
 by age, they fell from his lips with as much freshness as 
 they did when he left his father's house to preach them to 
 the scattered peasantry upon the Yorkshire wolds. 
 
 " Having had the happiness of much private intercourse 
 with him, havjng often conversed with him and heard him 
 preach, and having, at two different times, been associated 
 with him as a colleague in ministerial labour, I hesitate not 
 to affirm that he was an admirable theologian, thoroughly 
 acquainted with revealed truth ; and that, in the circuits 
 which he occupied, he brought it before his congregations 
 in all its comprehensiveness, to their delight and edifica- 
 tion, especially in the morning and evening of the Lord's 
 day. He was familiar with the phraseology of Holy Scrip- 
 ture, as well as with its facts and doctrines ; and hence 
 his sermons were not only rich in evangelical sentiment, 
 but often contained beautiful forms of expression, derived 
 from the oracles of God — those pure fountains of sacred 
 truth — which gratified a just taste, while they conveyed 
 valuable instruction. One of the transatlantic universities, 
 therefore, showed a just estimate of the man, when they 
 conferred upon him the title of Doctor of Divinity. This 
 was a mark of respect to which he was fairly entitled ; 
 yet it added nothing to him. His intellectual and moral 
 worth was so prominent, and so generally appreciated, 
 that neither this nor any other degree could increase the 
 public respect ; and hence the name by which he was 
 popularly known, was that of plain Robert Newton. 
 There was no apprehension that any mistake would arise 
 from the omission of his title ; for every one felt that there 
 was only one Robert Newton in the world." 
 
Richard Watson. 335 
 
 RICHARD WATSON, 
 
 One of the most eminent preachers that Wesleyan Method- 
 ism has produced, was born at Barton-upon-Humber, in 
 Lincolnshire, February 22, 1781. The following ad- 
 mirable account of his preaching is extracted from his 
 Life, which was written by his friend and fellow-labourer, 
 the venerated father of the compiler of this volume : — 
 
 ^'As so many of Mr Watson's discourses have been 
 published, it is the less necessary to say much on the 
 subject of his preaching. His sermons were never crude 
 and undigested, but were invariably prepared with great 
 care. Those which he preached on public occasions were 
 generally written at full length ; in the latter years of his 
 life especially, he was accustomed to write a copious out- 
 line of each discourse before its dehvery, that the subject 
 might be the more deeply impressed upon his mind. All 
 the sermons contained in his printed works, except the 
 first eleven, which he wrote expressly for pubHcation, may 
 be regarded as specimens of that preparation which it was 
 his practice to make before he addressed his congrega- 
 tions. 
 
 " The great aim of his preaching was usefulness ; and 
 hence, except in very peculiar cases, he decidedly dis- 
 approved of those sermons which consist mostly of elabo- 
 rate metaphysical discussion, and the texts of which are 
 used merely as a motto. The business of a Christian 
 preacher, he thought, was to explain and enforce the pure 
 word of God. * What is the chaff to the wheat % saith the 
 Lord.' No man could have appeared to greater advantage 
 than he as an intellectual preacher, had fame been his 
 object, and had he chosen to address himself only to the 
 understanding and imagination of educated persons ; but 
 
336 Richard V/atsons Afanner i?i the Pult>lt 
 
 he felt that his business was especially with the consciences 
 of mankind, and that his Lord had sent him, not to shine 
 or to amuse, but to convert sinners, and to build up be- 
 lievers in holiness : and these ends, he saw, could not be 
 obtained but by the instrumentality of divine truth, faith- 
 fully and plainly declared, and graciously applied by the 
 Holy Spirit. To the end of his hfe, therefore, he became 
 increasingly partial to the expository mode of preaching ; 
 and in his ordinary ministry his sermons consisted entirely 
 of deductions from his texts, the several parts of which he 
 was careful to explain, and apply to the purposes of prac- 
 tical godliness. His sermons were evangelical in the 
 strict and proper sense of that much-abused term. Christ 
 crucified was his favourite theme. He preached Christ in 
 the glories of His Godhead, the infinite merit of His pas- 
 sion, and the plenitude of His grace and saving power ; 
 and so practical and impressive were the views which he 
 presented of every truth upon which he expatiated, that 
 those hearers must have been callous indeed who were 
 not seriously affected under his energetic ministry. 
 
 " Mr Watson's manner in the pulpit was very solemn. 
 Preaching, with him, was a very serious business. He felt 
 the responsibility of standing between God and redeemed 
 sinners, proposing to them, in the divine name, the terms 
 of reconciliation and acceptance ; and he often trembled 
 at the thought of being to some of his hearers ' a savour 
 of death unto death.' His paUid countenance was there- 
 fore paler than usual when he entered the pulpit ; and he 
 frequently commenced the public services of religion with 
 a quivering lip and a faltering voice. In the delivery of 
 his sermons he stood perfectly erect, and nearly all the 
 action that he used was a shght motion of the right hand, 
 
i?. Hairs Opi)iion of Richard Watson. 337 
 
 with occasionally a significant shake of the head. He was 
 generally calm and deliberate, and often gave strong indi- 
 cations of deep feeling ; but his preaching was never 
 declamatory. His appearance was dignified, and calcu- 
 lated to command respect and silent attention ; and when 
 he began to speak, his hearers felt that they were in the 
 presence of a man who was qualified to instruct. From 
 everything approaching to affectation he was perfectly 
 free ; his pronunciation was chaste and elegant, and his 
 language remarkable for simplicity and strength. He ex- 
 celled equally in argument, exposition, and persuasion. 
 In some of his sermons there was a remarkable tenderness 
 of sentiment ; but the tone of thought which principally 
 characterised his preaching was that of sublimity. His 
 conceptions often appeared to be even superhuman. The 
 truths of Christianity, as they fell from his lips, were in- 
 vested with peculiar authority, and were proposed, not as 
 subjects of speculation, but to be received with meekness 
 and submission, to be believed and practised. In his 
 mind every feeling was lost in the desire to be useful — the 
 intense solicitude to save his own soul, and them that 
 heard him. There were not unfrequently in his sermons 
 bursts of eloquence which were absolutely irresistible, and 
 the impression of which was scarcely ever lost. After 
 hearing him preach on the subject of the atonement, in 
 the Methodist Chapel at Leicester, Mr Hall, who was 
 then resident in that town, declared that for a long time 
 he could think of nothing but Mr Watson's sermon. He 
 preached the substance of it to his own congregation, and 
 for several successive Sundays he referred to it in the 
 course of his ministry, and earnestly pressed his people 
 also to hear ' that great man,' as he denominated Mr 
 
 Y 
 
338 specimen of Richard Watson's Style. 
 
 Watson, should they ever have an opportunity. Speaking 
 of Mr Watson's preaching, in conversation with the Rev. 
 Theophilus Lessey, whom he honoured Vv^ith his friend- 
 ship, Mr Hall said, ' He soars into regions of thought 
 where no genius but his OAvn can penetrate.' It has been 
 also remarked by Mr Montgomery, who often heard Mr 
 Watson, and knew him well, ' It was the character of his 
 great mind to communicate its own power and facility of 
 comprehension to all minds that came under his influence. 
 He so wholly possessed us with his spirit, that, during his 
 progress through regions of intellect or mazes of argu- 
 ment, we were not aware of the speed at which we were 
 carried, or the elevation to which he had borne us beyond 
 ourselves, till some mighty tliought came rushing by, like 
 a roll of thunder beneath the car of an aeronaut, remind- 
 ing him that he is far above the clouds.' " 
 
 There is reason to believe that some of the most powerful 
 and stirring appeals ever uttered by Mr Watson from the 
 pulpit were extempore, and were called forth by the occa- 
 sion. His printed sermons, however, contain many pas- 
 sages, which will give some conception of his power as 
 a public speaker. We will adduce two, — one relating to 
 the state of the heathen, and the other to the gospel as 
 the means of salvation. 
 
 State of the Heathen. 
 
 "Are we the only strangers and sojourners before God? 
 Look at the crowds which pass you in your busy streets. 
 Cast up the population of Europe ; plunge among the 
 countless milUons of India and China. They are all 
 strangers and sojourners j their days on earth are as a 
 shadow, and there is no expectation, no * delay.' They 
 
specimens of Richard Watson's Style. 539 
 
 are hastening onward ; and death and the grave are mov- 
 ing towards them. Under what affecting views does this 
 consideration place our fellow-men, and especially those 
 of them who are living, or rather dying, in the darkness 
 of paganism! They are indeed 'strangers;' but they 
 know no better home. No word of reconcihation has 
 opened to them a vista through the grave, and brought 
 to light the distant immortality. They are ' sojourners,' 
 too, and see the frailty of their tents ; and often shudder 
 whilst they hear the rents of their canvas flapping in the 
 midnight wind ; but no Redeemer has cheered them with 
 the hope of a continuing city, and said to them, ' In my 
 Father's house are many mansions.' You are indeed 
 strangers, with a home in prospect; they are strangers 
 and sojourners without one. What a shadow to them is 
 life ! With us, indeed, it may be somewhat substantiated 
 by its connexion with religion and eternity. To them its 
 discipline is not referred to correction ; its changeful 
 scenes carry no moral lesson ; its afflictions no humility ; 
 its blessings, no hope. O pity your fellow-sojourners in 
 travel, without food, without the cheering impulse of a 
 home, in depressing heartlessness, and painful anxiety! 
 Around your camp, as around that of the Israelites, the 
 manna falls. Invite them to it. The rock has been 
 smitten for you, and follows all your steps with its pure 
 stream. Call, shout to them, lest they perish, ' Ho, every 
 one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters ! ' Bid them 
 behold your pillar of fire by night, and cloud by day, 
 and join your camp, that they may have the same blessed 
 guidance. Show them your altars, the smoke of your 
 atonement ; bid them come up to your tabernacle ; and 
 make them know that the desert of life itself may be 
 
340 Richard Watson on Missions. 
 
 cheered with songs, songs of salvation, even in the house of 
 their pilgrimage ; and that, although here they have no 
 continuing city, they may seek and find one to come." 
 
 Missio7ts. 
 " Where, then, is the remedy 1 It is in the gospel of 
 the grace of God. There the deep and pressing want of 
 the world is met. A God is given back to them who have 
 lost the knowledge of Him ; and stands confessed before 
 His creatures in all His majesty and in all His grace. A 
 system of morals is ushered in, pure as their Author, and 
 commanding in all their sanctions and motives. The 
 lovely majesty of religion is presented ; not the form 
 arrayed in the wild habiliments of superstition, agitated 
 with demoniacal inspirations, stained with gore, and revel- 
 ling in human misery ; but the form of truth and love 
 united, inviting confidence, distributing blessings, and 
 spreading all around her an atmosphere of light, comfort, 
 and healing. The true Propitiation is presented, — the 
 dying Saviour, the powerful Advocate with God, the 
 Friend of Man, Jesus the Saviour ; and the nations look 
 unto Him from the ends of the earth, and are saved. O 
 glorious visitation, and ' not in word only, but in power ! ' 
 Here Ues the efficiency of the gospel ; this it is which 
 distinguishes it from everything else. All else is human ; 
 this only is divine. Wherever there is the gospel, there 
 is God : for '■ lo, I am with you.' It is not the cloud 
 of the divine majesty only, but the cloud of the divine 
 presence. It is the voice of God, calling the prisoners of 
 earth to come forth and show themselves; and the arm 
 of God, throwing back the bolt of their dungeon, and 
 leading them into liberty. It is the rain which falls upon 
 
JoJm Byron^s advice to Preachers. 341 
 
 the desert heath, and the vital spirit in it which gives it 
 its fertiHsing energy. It is the Word of God ; but it is 
 His inspiration, the breathing of His Holy Spirit ; like the 
 gales of spring, not violent, not rushing, but everywhere 
 wafting life, and converting the wintry heath into fruitful- 
 ness and health. It is the mighty chariot of salvation, 
 Messiah's moving throne, instinct with life, every sweeping 
 wheel full of eyes and full of energy. It moves with resist- 
 less velocity ; before it fly ^ the gods,' the vain idols, ' who 
 have not made the heavens and the earth,' and yet have 
 usurped the honours of God. Affrighted as the lambs 
 at the sound of mighty thunderings, they fly before ; 
 whilst, behind, it leaves in its progress a train of light and 
 blessing ample as the earth, and welcome as the day- 
 spring to them who sit in darkness, and in the shadow ot 
 death." 
 
 The following pithy advice to preachers by old John 
 Byrom was much admired and followed by some of the 
 foregoing Methodist ministers, and may be read with 
 advantage by all : — 
 
 " To speak for God, to sound religion's praise, 
 Of sacred passions the wise warmth to raise ; 
 T' infuse the contrite wish to conquest nigh, 
 And point the steps mysterious as they lie ; 
 To seize the wretch in full career of lust, 
 And soothe the silent sorrows of the just : 
 Who would not bless for this the gift of speech, 
 And in the tongue's beneficence be rich? 
 But who must talk ? Not the mere modern sage, 
 Who suits the soften'd gospel to the age ; 
 
342 John ByroftCs advice to Preachers, 
 
 Who ne'er to raise degenerate practice strives, 
 
 But brings the practice down to Christian lives : 
 
 Not he who maxims from old reading took, 
 
 And never saw himself but through a book : 
 
 Not he, who hasty in the morn of grace 
 
 Soon sinks extinguish'd as a comet's blaze : 
 
 Not he who strains in Scripture phrase t' abound, 
 
 Deaf to the sense, who stuns us with the sound : 
 
 But he, who silence loves, and never dealt 
 
 In the false commerce of a truth unfelt. 
 
 Guilty you speak, if subtle from w^ithin 
 
 Blows on your words the self-admiring sin : 
 
 If unresolved to choose the better part. 
 
 Your forward tongue belies your languid heart : 
 
 But then speak safely, when your peaceful mind, 
 
 Above self-seeking blest, on God rechn'd, 
 
 Feels Him suggest unlabour'd sense, 
 
 And ope a shrine of sweet benevolence. 
 
 Some high behests of heaven you then fulfil. 
 
 Sprung from His light your words, and issuing by His 
 
 will. 
 Nor yet expect so mystically long 
 Till certain inspiration loose your tongue : 
 Express the precept runs, " Do good to all j " 
 Nor add, '• Whene'er you find an inward call." 
 'Tis God commands : no further motive seek. 
 Speak on without, or with reluctance speak : 
 To love's habitual sense by acts aspire. 
 And kindle, till you catch the gospel fire. 
 
 The specious sermons of a learned man 
 Are little else but flashes in the pan, 
 
Old Yorkshire Sermons, 343 
 
 The mere haranguing (upon what they call 
 Morahty) is powder without ball : 
 But he who preaches with a Christian grace, 
 Fires at our vices, and the shot takes place." 
 
 — John Byrom. 
 
 Old Yorkshire Sermons. 
 
 A jocose and amiable clergyman was proceeding to 
 supply the "duty" at a church some miles distant from 
 his own home. Cantering leisurely along on his Galloway, 
 he overtook one of the local preachers, trudging on foot 
 to a village, where he was to hold forth in a barn. The 
 clergyman entered into conversation with the worthy 
 preacher, whom he knew well; and being a wit himself, 
 he was the awakener of wit in others. " My friend," said 
 he, "I am afraid you are poorly paid for your zealous 
 exertions." His companion gravely assented. " Now, I 
 get a guinea for my sermon this morning ; what may you 
 get?" "Whaa?" answered the preacher. "Ah do not 
 expect much at t' present time ; but when my great Master 
 comes to reckon with his servants at t' last, ah hope, if ah 
 be found faithful, to get a crown !" An admirable reply, 
 in the solemn humour of which the clergyman entirely 
 acquiesced. 
 
 The local preachers, being for the most part men of 
 very humble social position, did not receive the considera- 
 tion from pew-openers, chapel-keepers, and others, which 
 v/as accorded to their " travelling " brethren. One hap- 
 pening to reach the meeting-house vestry wet and tired, 
 after a long walk in the rain, accosted the old lady in 
 
 attendance, and said, "I am very weary, Mrs , and 
 
 wet through ; could you find me a glass of wine % " She 
 
344 Old Yorkshire Sermons. 
 
 did not reply, like the old Scotchwoman, " Get up into 
 pulpit with you ; you'll be dry enough there;" but with a 
 sly twinkle of the eye, as if she perfectly knew the mean- 
 ing of her blunder, she added, " A 've got noa port wine 
 for you; you locust preachers have drunk it all up !" 
 
 The sermons of the most remarkable of these self- 
 taught preachers were sometimes bizarre, grotesque, and, 
 to a highly cultivated and sensitive understanding, ridic- 
 ulous j but there were specimens among them, never 
 reduced to writing, the memories of which yet live in the 
 breasts of aged Yorkshiremen, that might compare with 
 Dante for sublimity and gloom, or with the rude but im- 
 pressive sculpture on and around the portals of a mediaeval 
 cathedral, for bold word-painting. With a voice of high- 
 pitched recitative, sometimes approaching a scream, with 
 wild and vehement gesticulation, they laid firm grasp, 
 through the power of sympathy and the spell of imagina- 
 tion, on their bucolic auditory. There was no denying 
 one thing — they believed, and therefore they spoke, One 
 of them went by the famihar name of '' Our Billy." He 
 has been known to take a pair of scales into the pulpit, 
 and literally to weigh in the balance the several characters 
 he described. He once summoned a lost spirit from the 
 grave to give an account of the manner of his life, solemnly 
 inviting him to take his place in the front seat of the 
 gallery, behind the clock, that he might be better seen 
 and heard. The people in the pew started and turned 
 pale, as if they were really conscious of the presence of a 
 departed soul. On one occasion, discoursing on David 
 slaying the Philistine giant with a sling and a stone, he 
 paused for a moment, as though contemplating Goliah's 
 prostrate form, when a burly farmer, sv/eating with excite- 
 
Dr Robert Stephens M'AIL 345 
 
 ment and heat, for the chapel was crammed, could contain 
 himself no longer, but rose and stood on the seat, shouting 
 at the top of his voice, " Off with his head, Billy j off 
 with his head !" 
 
 Such are a few illustrations of old Yorkshire religious 
 life. The men and their manners have for ever passed 
 away ; the present age produces none like them, nor can 
 it, for the world moves on, and all is changed. 
 
 DR ROBERT STEPHENS M^ALL 
 
 Was born at Plymouth on the 4th of August 1792. He 
 became an Independent minister early in life. His chief 
 popularity maybe dated from the year 1827, when he was 
 appointed to the pastoral charge of Moseley Street Chapel, 
 Manchester. He died July 27, 1838. He was m 
 many respects similar in character to Robert Hall, and, 
 like him, in the latter days of his life was afflicted with 
 acute pain. For many years he stood in the foremost 
 rank of Congregation alist preachers, his friendly rivals in 
 popularity being Thorpe of Bristol, James Parsons of 
 York, and Richard Winter Hamilton of Leeds. The 
 following passage fairly represents his ornate and briUiant 
 style : — 
 
 Christ the poiver of God, and the tvisdom of God. 
 "With the utmost justice, therefore, not less than with 
 the utmost magnificence, may this doctrine of redemption 
 be described under the appellations here employed ; and 
 it is not without reason that so eminent a place is assigned 
 it, when the apostle calls it by the names of two great 
 attributes which stand foremost in the array of the divine 
 perfections — wisdom and power. 
 
346 The Style of Dr M'All. 
 
 " Many are the modifications of glory associated with 
 them in the adorable character of God ; but these are 
 essentially connected with the very thought of his exist- 
 ence. They are those with which we come earliest into 
 acquaintance, and which stand related to his largest and 
 most varied range of operations ; and, having to do with 
 the formation as well as the government of all things, they 
 meet our view, not less in the constitution and primary 
 condition of every creature, than in its preservation or its 
 after circumstances. And it must be so ; for without 
 consummate wisdom, a being of unlimited power would 
 be most inapt to the control of numberless free and 
 accountable agents ; but without power equal to his in- 
 telligence, a being of infinite wisdom, bafiied by his own 
 designs, and lost in the immensity of his own purposes, 
 would be supremely and infinitely miserable. Their com- 
 bination in equal measure, therefore, as it is inseparable 
 from his nature, is required alike in order to his rectitude 
 and his felicity. 
 
 " His manifestations, accordingly, are numberless, and 
 their diversity without end ; and though, in particular 
 instances, when we attempt their distinct celebration, we 
 are often confounded by the difficulty of deciding between 
 them, yet their essence is as dissimilar as their glory is 
 alike. Each has its own sphere of action, and each its 
 standard of independent excellence. 
 
 " It is power which brings out of nothing ; wisdom which 
 arrays and beautifies. Power is the source of elements; 
 wisdom, of affinities: power, of innate forces and undirected 
 energies ; wisdom, of useful adaptations and beneficial 
 results. Power might create a chaos ; wisdom must 
 fabricate a world. 
 
specimen of his Style. 347 
 
 " When we think of God's power, it is natural to contem- 
 plate Him as ^ speaking, and it was done ; commanding, 
 and it stood fast;' when of His wisdom, as 'preparing 
 the heavens, and setting a compass upon the face of the 
 depth.' His power presents Him as He 'stood and 
 measured the earth, He beheld and drove asunder the 
 nations ; and the everlasting mountains were scattered, 
 the perpetual hills did bowj' His wisdom, as He is 
 arrayed with a serener majesty, ' weighing those moun- 
 tains in scales, and those hills in a balance/ 
 
 " His power finds its witnesses in the lightning and the 
 whirlwind ; His wisdom in those dehcate and just pro- 
 portions, which fit the most destructive of elements to 
 sustain and nourish life. His power, in the immensity 
 and innate properties of matter; His wisdom, in those 
 exquisite organisations which minister to hearing, sight, 
 or touch j which sustain the flight of the insect, or give 
 residence and action to the intellect of man. 
 
 " We look for the emblem of His power in the vast and 
 fathomless ocean, which is yet held in the hollow of His 
 hand ; we find the demonstrations of His wisdom in the 
 arrangement and the splendour which makes every dew- 
 drop an abyss of wonders. 
 
 " But they are usually presented with equal clearness and 
 indissoluble union ; and, whether w^e regard them on the 
 scale of an atom or of the universe, their greatness is the 
 same, — while, from their concurrence, each becomes more 
 glorious, and is productive of effects more variously per- 
 fect. Meeting, in every department of the divine work- 
 manship, with specimens as elaborate in execution as they 
 are consummate in design, we are unable often to deter- 
 mine which most we should admire, and must content 
 
348 Dr R. S, M'All 
 
 ourselves with the subUme reflection of the prophet, 
 ' This also cometh forth from the Lord of hosts, who is 
 wonderful in counsel, and excellent in working.' 
 
 " Perhaps it is power which most astonishes us in the 
 productions of nature ; wisdom, which excites our greatest 
 admiration in the disposals of providence ; but the union 
 of both which we behold with the sublimest ravishment 
 in the mystery of redemption. 
 
 " It is a high and sovereign exercise of power to pardon 
 sin, but an arrangement of profoundest wisdom to make 
 that pardon consistent with the honour of the Lawgiver 
 and the security of His dominion. Power might rescue; 
 wisdom would redeem. 
 
 " It is benignant power we witness when, after the forma- 
 tion of this wonderful economy, and all its preceding evo- 
 lutions, Jehovah at length goes forth in His chariot of 
 salvation ; but it is the voice of wisdom which we hear 
 crying, ' Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight 
 in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall 
 be exalted, and every mountain and hill shall be made 
 low; and the crooked shall be made straight, and the 
 rough places plain : and the glory of the Lord shall be 
 revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.' 
 
 " We behold almighty power raising up from among the 
 nations the ancestry of the Messiah, — preserving His lin- 
 eage unbroken through so many ages, — and fulfilling, by 
 continued miracle, Avhat had once been uttered by an un- 
 alterable decree : ' The sceptre shall not depart from 
 Judah, nor a lawgiver from between his feet, until Shiloh 
 come ; and to Him shall the gathering of the people be.' 
 We hear its awful proclamation in regard to the mightiest 
 of surrounding states : ' I will overturn, overturn, over- 
 
specimen of his Style. 349 
 
 turn, until He come whose right it is to reign :' and we 
 acknowledge its effects, when an invisible hand is found 
 going before those on whom the fulfilment of this purpose 
 is anywise dependent, ' to loosen the loins of kings, to 
 open before him the two-leaved gates ; to break in pieces 
 the doors of brass, and to cut in sunder the bars of iron.' 
 But we discern not less of wisdom, so ordering all things 
 by the co-operation of natural causes, that, when the long- 
 looked-for Messiah actually came, the state both of the 
 world and of His own people should be such as to insure 
 His rejection, and to issue even in His death; and yet to 
 make the consequences of His ministry the most exten- 
 sively effectual, causing their tidings to spread, and their 
 influence to be experienced, with the greatest speed and 
 certainty, over every land. 
 
 " How illustriously is the agency of omnipotence re- 
 vealed, when at length, though lifted up upon a cross, He 
 becomes the conqueror of death, the spoiler of the grave, 
 the deliverer of captive souls, and the emancipator of an 
 enslaved world ! And yet, conspicuous as are these dis- 
 coveries, the features of unerring and awful wisdom are at 
 least equally discernible. It is the part of such wisdom 
 to attain the greatest ends, without profuse or ineffective 
 expenditure ; to restrain the premature disclosure of its 
 objects; to provide, infallibly, against emergent occasions, 
 and contingent events ; to neutralise opposition and 
 hinderance; or ro convert opponent forces into auxiUaries 
 and useful allies ; — and thus to secure its results in a 
 manner exempt from compHcation or embarrassment, as 
 well as from ostentatious or unmeaning display. Now, in 
 each of these is revealed, — and revealed as if each stood 
 alone, — ' the depth of the riches, both of the wisdom and 
 
35 o John Angdl James on Freac/ung. 
 
 knowledge of God/ in the process of redeeming mercy. 
 An illustration of this may be derived from the life and 
 ministry of Jesus, where we see everything conducted in 
 a method of consummate regularity and order, — nothing 
 precipitated, nothing delayed, — not a step taken unad- 
 visedly, or before its time, — even from His first miracle in 
 Cana, to the day when Moses and Elias, like the ambas- 
 sadors of some great empire, appeared with Him in glory 
 on the Mount, holding a solemn and final conference 
 respecting " the decease He was to accomplish at Jeru- 
 salem," and all that must yet precede that hour of agony 
 and triumph when He should exclaim, on a review of the 
 whole, '' It is finished." 
 
 JOHN ANGELL JAMES 
 
 Was, for many years, the well-known minister of Carr's 
 Lane Chapel, Birmingham. He wrote a work entitled, 
 " An Earnest Ministry," which contains the following re- 
 marka])le passage upon sermons and preaching : " Will 
 any one deny that, in the present state of modern society, 
 we want an earnest ministry to break in some degree the 
 spell, and leave the soul at liberty for the affairs of a king- 
 dom which is not of this world ? When politics have 
 come upon the minds and investigations of our people 
 for six days out of seven, invested with the charms of 
 eloquence, and decked with the colours of party ; when 
 the orator and the writer have thrown the witchery cf 
 genius over the soul, how can it be expected that tame, 
 spiritless, rapid common-i3laces from the pulpit, sermons 
 without either head or heart, having neither weight of 
 matter nor grace of manner, neither genius to compensate 
 for the want of taste, nor taste to compensate for the 
 
John Seidell 07i Sermons. 351 
 
 want of genius, no unction of evangelical truth, no im- 
 press of eternity, no radiance from heaven, no terror from 
 hell j in short, no adaptation to awaken reflection or to 
 produce conviction ; how can it be expected, I say, that 
 such sermons can avail to accomplish the purposes for 
 which the gospel is to be preached ? What chance have 
 such preachers amidst the tumult to be heard or felt ; or 
 what claim have they upon the public attention, amidst 
 the high excitement in which we Hve ? Their hearers too 
 often feel that in listening to their sermons on the Sab- 
 bath, as compared with what they have heard and read 
 during the week, it is as if they were turning from the 
 brilliant and tasteful gaslight, to the dim and smoking 
 spark of the tallow and the rush. Who but the pastor 
 that can speak in power and demonstration of the Spirit 
 — a man who shall rise Sabbath after Sabbath in the pulpit, 
 clothed with a potency to throw into shadow, by his vivid 
 representations of heaven and eternity, all these painted 
 nothings, on which his hearers are in danger of squander- 
 ing their immortal souls." 
 
 PREACHING. 
 
 {From the Tahle-Talk of John Sclden.) 
 
 " Nothing is more mistaken than that speech, Preach the 
 gospel; for 'tis not to make long harangues, as they do 
 now-a-days, but to tell the news of Christ's coming into 
 the world ; and when that is done, or where 'tis known 
 already, the preacher's work is done. 
 
 " 2. Preaching, in the first sense of the word, ceased as 
 soon as ever the gospel was written. 
 
 " 3. When the preacher says. This is the meaning of the 
 
352 JoJin Seidell on Sermons. 
 
 Holy Ghost in such a place, in sense he can mean no 
 more than this : that is, I, by studying of the place, by 
 comparing one place with another, by weighing what goes 
 before and what comes after, think this is the meaning of 
 the Holy Ghost j and for shortness of expression I say, 
 The Holy Ghost says thus, or. This is the meaning of the 
 Spirit of God. So the judge speaks of the king's procla- 
 mation, This is the intention of the king ; not that the 
 king had declared his intention any other way to the 
 judge, but the judge, examining the contents of the pro- 
 clamation, gathers by the purport of the words the king's 
 intention ; and then, for shortness of expression, says, 
 This is the king's intention. 
 
 " 4. Nothing is text but w^hat was spoken in the Bible, 
 and meant there for person and place ; the rest is appUca- 
 tion, which a discreet man may do well ; but 'tis his Scrip- 
 ture, not the Holy Ghost. 
 
 "5. Preaching by the Spirit, as they call it, is most es- 
 teemed by the common people, because they cannot abide 
 art or learning, which they have not been bred up in. Just 
 as in the business of fencing, if one country fellow amongst 
 the rest has been at the school, the rest will undervalue 
 his skill, or tell him he wants valour : You come with 
 your school tricks ; there'' s Dick Butcher has ten times more 
 mettle in him. So they say to the preachers, You come 
 with your school learning ; there 's such a one has the Spirit. 
 
 *' 6. The tone in preaching does much in working upon 
 the people's affections. If a man should make love in an 
 ordinary tone, his mistress would not regard him ; and 
 therefore he must whine. If a man should cry ' Fire ' or 
 ' Murder ' in an ordinary voice, nobody would come out 
 to help him. 
 
John Seldcfi on Sermons. 353 
 
 ** 7. Preachers will bring anything into the text. The 
 young Masters of Arts preached against non-residency in 
 the university, whereupon the Heads made an order, that 
 no man should meddle with anything but what was in the 
 text. The next day one preached upon these words, 
 Abraham begat Isaac. When he had gone a good way, at 
 last he observed, that Abj-aham was resident ; for if he 
 had been non-resident' he could never have begat Isaac ; 
 and so fell foul ujDon the non-residents. 
 
 " 8. I could never tell what often preaching meant, 
 after a church is settled, and we know what is to be done ; 
 'tis just as if a husbandman should once tell his servants 
 what they are to do, when to sow, when to reap ; and 
 afterwards one should come and tell them twice or thrice 
 a day what they know already. You must sow your 
 wheat in October, you must reap your wheat in August, 
 &c. 
 
 " 9. The main argument why they would have two 
 sermons a day, is because they have two meals a day ; 
 the soul must be fed as well as the body. But I may as 
 well argue, I ought to have two noses because I have 
 two eyes, or two mouths because I have two ears. What 
 have meals and sermons to do with one another ? 
 
 " 10. The things between God and man are but a 
 few, and those, forsooth, we must be told often of But 
 things between man and man are many ; those I hear of 
 not above twice a year at the Assizes, or once a quarter 
 at the Sessions. But few come then ; nor does the min- 
 ister exhort the people to go at these times to learn their 
 duty towards their neighbour. Often preaching is sure to 
 keep the minister in countenance, that he may have some- 
 thing to do. 
 
 z 
 
354 John Selden on Serjnons. 
 
 " II. In preaching they say more to raise men to love 
 virtue than men can possibly perform, to make them do 
 their best; as if you would teach a man to throw the bar, 
 to make him put out his strength, you bid him throw 
 farther than it is possible for him, or any man else : Throw 
 over yonder house. 
 
 "i2. In preaching they do by men as writers of ro- 
 mances do by their chief knights, bring them into many 
 dangers, but still fetch them off : so they put men in fear 
 of hell, but at last bring them to heaven. 
 
 "13. Preachers say, Do as I say, not as I do. But if 
 a, physician had the same disease upon him that I have, 
 and he should bid me do one thing, and he do quite 
 another, could I believe him ? 
 
 "14. Preaching the same sermon to all sorts of people, 
 is as if a schoolmaster should read the same lesson to his 
 several forms. If he reads Amo^ amas, amavi, the highest 
 forms laugh at him ; the younger boys admire him : so 'tis 
 preaching to a mixed auditory. Objection. But it cannot 
 be otherwise ; the parish cannot be divided into several 
 forms : what must the preacher then do in discretion ? 
 Answer. Why, then, let him use some expressions by which 
 this or that condition of people may know such doctrine 
 does more especially concern them ; it being so delivered 
 that the wisest may be content to hear. For if he delivers 
 it altogether, and leaves it to them to single out what be- 
 longs to themselves, (which is the usual way,) 'tis as if a 
 man would bestow gifts upon children of several ages, two 
 years old, four years old, ten years old, &c., and there he 
 brings toJ)s, pins, points, ribands, and casts them all in a heap 
 together upon a table before them ; though the boy of ten 
 years old knows how to choose his top, yet the child of two 
 
Seidell oil PreacJimg, 355 
 
 years old, that should have a riband^ takes a//;/, and the 
 //;/, e'er he be aware, pricks his fingers, and then all 's out 
 of order, &c. Preaching, for the most part, is the glory of 
 the preacher, to show himself a fine man. Catechising 
 would do much better. 
 
 "15. Use the best arguments to persuade, though but 
 few understand ; for the ignorant will sooner believe the 
 judicious of the parish than the preacher himself; and 
 they teach when they dissipate what he has said, and be- 
 lieve it the sooner, confirmed by men of their own side. 
 For betwixt the laity and the clergy there is, as it were, a 
 continual driving of a bargain ; something the clergy 
 would still have us be at, and therefore many things are 
 heard from the preacher with suspicion. They are afraid 
 of some ends, which are easily assented to when they have 
 it from one of themselves. 'Tis with a sermon as 'tis with 
 a play ; many come to see it, which do not understand it ; 
 and yet, hearing it cried up by one, whose judgment they 
 cast themselves upon, and of power with them, they swear 
 and will die in it, that 'tis a very good play, which they 
 would not have done if the priest himself had told him so. 
 As in a great school, 'tis [not] "' the master that teaches 
 all ; the monitor does a great deal of work ; it may be the 
 boys are afraid to see the master : so in a parish 'tis not 
 the minister does all ; the greater neighbour teaches the 
 lesser, the master of the house teaches his servant, &c. 
 
 " 16. First in your sermons use your logic, and then 
 your rhetoric. Rhetoric without logic is like a tree with 
 leaves and blossoms, but no root ; yet I confess more are 
 taken with rhetoric than logic, because they are catched 
 with a free expression, when they understand not reason. 
 * Not is omitted in the oriji. ed. 
 
;S^ Seldeti on Preaching 
 
 Logic must be natural, or it is worth nothing at all ; your 
 rhetoric figures may be learned. That rhetoric is best 
 which is most seasonable and most catching. An instance 
 we have in that old blunt commander at Cadiz, who 
 showed himself a good orator ; being to say something to 
 his soldiers, which he was not used to do, he made them 
 a speech to this purpose : What a shame will it be, you 
 Englishmen, that feed upon good beef and bi^avess, to let those 
 rascally Spaniards beat yoti, that eat nothing but 07'anges and 
 lemons I and so put more courage into his men than he 
 could have done with a more learned oration. Rhetoric 
 is very good, or stark naught : there 's no medium in 
 rhetoric. If I am not fully persuaded I laugh at the 
 orator. 
 
 "17. 'Tis good to preach the same thing again; for 
 that's the way to have it learned. You see a bird by 
 often whistling to learn a tune, and a month after record 
 it to herself. 
 
 " 18. 'Tis a hard case a minister should be turned out 
 of his living for something they infomi him he should say 
 in his pulpit. We can no more know what a minister 
 said in his sermon by two or three words picked out of it, 
 than we can tell what tune a musician played last upon 
 the lute, by two or three single notes." 
 
 THE THREE SCOFFERS. 
 
 In a seaport town on the west coast of England, notice 
 was once given of a sermon to be preached there one 
 Sunday evening. The preacher was a man of great 
 celebrity, and that circumstance, together with the object 
 of the discourse, being to enforce the duty of strict observ- 
 ance of the Sabbath, attracted an overflowing audience. 
 
Ranarkahle Scrmo7i. 357 
 
 After the usual prayers and praises, the preacher read his 
 text, and was about to proceed with his sermon, when he 
 suddenly paused, leaning his head on the pulpit, and 
 remained silent for a few moments. It was imagined that 
 he had become indisposed ; but he soon recovered him- 
 self, and, addressing the congregation, said, that before 
 entering upon his discourse, he begged to narrate to them 
 a short anecdote. " It is now exactly fifteen years," said 
 he, " since I was last within this place of worship ; and 
 the occasion was, as many here may probably remember, 
 the very same as that which has now brought us together. 
 Amongst those who assembled that evening were three 
 dissolute young men, who came not only with the inten- 
 tion of insulting and mocking the venerable pastor, but 
 even with stones in their pockets to throw at him as he 
 stood in the pulpit. Accordingly, they had not attended 
 long to the discourse, when one of them said impatiently, 
 * Why need we listen any longer to the blockhead ? — 
 throw ! ' But the second stopped him, saying, * Let us 
 first see what he makes of this point.' The curiosity of 
 the latter was no sooner satisfied, than he, too, said, 'Ay, 
 confound him, it is only as I expected — throw now!' 
 But here the third interposed, and said, ' It would be 
 better altogether to give up the design which has brought 
 us here.' At this remark his two associates took offence, 
 and left the place, while he himself remained to the end. 
 Now mark, my brethren," continued the preacher, with 
 much emotion, " what were afterwards the several fates of 
 these young men ! The first was hanged many years ago 
 at Tyburn for the crime of forgery ; the second is now 
 lying under sentence of death for murder in the jail of 
 this city. The third, my brethren" — and the speaker's 
 
358 George Wagner of Brighton. 
 
 agitation here became excessive, while he paused and 
 wiped the large drops from his brow — " the third, my 
 brethren, is he who is now about to address you ! Listen 
 to him 1 " 
 
 Cecil on Long Sermoiis. 
 
 " The sermons of the last century were like their large 
 unwieldy chairs. Men have now a far truer idea of a 
 chair. They consider it a piece of furniture to sit on, and 
 cut away from it everything that encumbers it. One of 
 the most important considerations in making a sermon is 
 to disembarrass it as much as possible. A young minis- 
 ter must learn to separate and select his materials. Some 
 things respond ; they ring again. He must remark, too, 
 what it is that puzzles and distracts the mind. All this is 
 to be avoided. It may bear the garb of deep research 
 and acumen and extensive learning, but it is nothing to 
 the mass of mankind." — CeciVs Remains, p. 74. 
 
 Archbishop Whately somewhere says, " Many a wander- 
 ing discourse one hears in which the preacher aims at 
 nothing, and hits it." " Some speakers resemble an ex- 
 ploring party in a newly-discovered island, they start in 
 any direction, without aim or object." 
 
 THE REVEREND GEORGE WAGNER. 
 
 One of the Brighton clergy of the Church of England has 
 lately gone to his rest. His biographer records a practice 
 of his which is well worthy of the imitation of every 
 Christian minister : — " Every July when the anniversary 
 came round of his first entrance on his parochial charge, 
 it was his custom to preach a sermon upon the nature, 
 the purpose, the duties, the responsibilities, or the 
 
Say your Prayers in Fair Weather. 359 
 
 authority of the Christian ministry ; recalling the thoughts 
 of his people and himself to the relations which subsisted 
 between them, and urgently pressing home the question, 
 What results had arisen from it? Thus, in July 1847, 
 (for instance,) he preached a sermon on i Sam, iii. 19 : 
 ' Samuel grew, and the Lord was with him, and did let 
 none of his words fall to the ground ;' in which he set 
 forth with luminous clearness, deep pathos, and rich 
 abundance of anecdote, what ought to be the marks and 
 evidences of a successful ministration of God's word, 
 sadly contrasting the ideal of his hopes with the reality 
 of his experience." 
 
 Say your Prayers in Fair Weather. 
 
 A sea captain, of a profligate character, who com- 
 manded a vessel trading between Liverpool and America, 
 during the last war, once took on board a man as a 
 common sailor, to serve during the voyage, just as he 
 was leaving port. The new-comer was soon found to be 
 of a most quarrelsome, untractable disposition, a furious 
 blasphemer, and, hen an opportunity offered, a drunkard. 
 Besides all these disqualifications, he was wholly ignorant 
 of nautical affairs, or counterfeited ignorance to escape 
 duty. In short, he was the bane and plague of the vessel, 
 and refused obstinately to give any account of himself or 
 his family or past life. 
 
 At length a violent storm arose, all hands were piped 
 upon deck, and all, as the captain thought, were too few 
 to save the ship. When the men were mustered to their 
 quarters, the sturdy blasphemer was missing, and my 
 friend went below to seek for him ; great was his surprise 
 at finding him on his knees repeating the Lord's prayer, 
 
360 Say your Prayers in Fair Weather. 
 
 with wonderful rapidity, over and over again, as if he had 
 bound himself to countless reiterations. Vexed at what 
 he deemed hypocrisy or cowardice, he shook him roughly 
 by the collar, exclaiming, " Say your prayers in fair 
 weather^'' The man rose up, observing in a low voice, 
 " God grant I may ever see fair weather to say them." 
 
 In a fev/ hours the storm happily abated, a week more 
 brought them to harbour, and an incident so trivial passed 
 quickly away from the memory of the captain ; the more 
 easily, as the man in question was paid off the day after 
 landing, and appeared not again. 
 
 Four years more had elapsed, during which, though the 
 captain had twice been shipwrecked, and was grievously 
 hurt by the falling of a spar, he pursued without amend- 
 ment a life of profligacy and contempt of God. At the 
 end of this period he arrived in the port of New York, 
 after a very tedious and dangerous voyage from England. 
 
 It was on a Sabbath morning, and the streets were 
 thronged with persons proceeding to the several houses of 
 worship, with which that city abounds ; but the captain 
 was bent on far other occupation, designing to drown the 
 recollection of perils and deliverances, in a celebrated 
 tavern which he had too long, and too often frequented. 
 
 As he walked leisurely towards this goal, he encountered 
 a very dear friend, a quondam associate of many a thought- 
 less hour. Salutations over, the captain seized him by the 
 arm, declaring that he should accompany him to the hotel. 
 " I will do so," replied the other, with great calmness, " on 
 condition that you come with me first for a single hour 
 into this house, (a church,) and thank God for His mercies 
 to you on the deep." The captain was ashamed to refuse, 
 so the two friends entered the temple together. Already 
 
Say your Pray €7' s in Fair Weather. 361 
 
 all the seats were occupied, and a dense crowd filled the 
 aisle ; and, by dint of personal exertion, they succeeded in 
 reaching a position right in front of the pulpit, at about 
 five yards distance. The preacher, one of the most popu- 
 lar of the day, riveted the attention of the entire congre- 
 gation, including the captain himself, to whom his features 
 and voice, though he could not assign any time or place 
 of previous meeting, seemed not wholly unknown, particu- 
 larly when he spoke with animation. At length the 
 preacher's eye fell upon the spot where the two friends 
 stood. He suddenly paused, still gazing upon the cap- 
 tain, as if to make himself sure that he laboured under no 
 optical delusion ; and, after a silence of more than a 
 minute, pronounced with a voice that shook the building, 
 "Say your prayers in fair weather." 
 
 The audience w^ere lost in amazement, nor was it until 
 a considerable time had elapsed, that the preacher re- 
 covered sufficient self-possession to recount the incident 
 with which the reader is already acquainted ; adding, with 
 deep emotion, that the words which his captain uttered in 
 the storm, had clung to him by day and by night after his 
 landing, as if an angel had been charged with the duty of 
 repeating them in his ears ; that he felt the holy call as 
 coming direct from above, to do the work of his crucified 
 Master j that he had studied at college for the ministry, 
 and was now, through grace, such as they saw and heard. 
 
 At the conclusion of this affecting address, he called on 
 the audience to join prayer with himself, that the same 
 words might be blessed in turn to him who first had 
 used them. But God had outrun their petitions ; the cap- 
 tain was already repentant before his old shipmate had 
 ceased to tell his story. The power of the Spirit had 
 
362 Robiiisofi of Leicester. 
 
 wrought effectually upon him, and subdued every lofty 
 imagmation. And so, when the people dispersed, he ex- 
 changed the hotel for the house of the preacher, with whom 
 he tarried six weeks, and parted from him to pursue his 
 profession^ with a heart devoted to the service of his 
 Saviour, and with holy and happy assurances which ad- 
 vancing years hallowed, strengthened, and sanctified. 
 
 THE REV. THOMAS ROBINSON 
 
 Was sometime Vicar of St Mary's, Leicester, and the 
 author of the well-known volume, entitled " Scripture 
 Characters." 
 
 " Who ever heard him," says Robert Hall, of Leicester, 
 his personal friend and admirer, " without feeling a persua- 
 sion that it was the man of God who addressed him ; or 
 without being struck with the perspicuity of his statements, 
 the solidity of his thoughts, and the rich unction of his 
 spirit ? It was the harp of David, which, struck with his 
 powerful hand, sent forth more than mortal sounds, and 
 produced an impression far more deep and permanent than 
 the thunder of Demosthenes, or the splendid conflagrations 
 of Cicero. The hearers of Mr Robinson were too much 
 occupied with the subject he presented to their attention 
 to waste a thought on the speaker ; this occupied a second 
 place in the order of their reflections, but when it did 
 occur it assumed the character, not of superficial admira- 
 tion, but of profound attachment. Their feelings towards 
 him were not those of persons gratified, but benefited ; 
 and they listened to his instructions, not as a source of 
 amusement, but as a spring of living water. There never 
 was a settled pastor, probably, who had formed a juster 
 conception of the true end of preaching, who pursued it 
 
Preaching of the Puritans. 363 
 
 more steadily, or attained it to a greater extent. He 
 preached immortal truth with a most extraordinary sim- 
 plicity, perspicuity, and energy, in a style adapted to all 
 capacities, equally removed from vulgarity and affected 
 refinement ; and the tribute paid to his exertions consisted 
 not in loud applauses, it was of a higher order ; it consisted 
 of penitential sighs, holy resolutions of a determination of 
 the whole soul to God, and such impressions on the spirits 
 of men as will form the line of separation betwixt the happy 
 and the miserable to all eternity." 
 
 From the memoirs of this distinguished preacher it 
 appears that, during the first seven years of his ministry, he 
 composed all his sermons before preaching, and delivered 
 them without alteration or addition from the manuscripts 
 he had prepared. After that period he preached from 
 short notes. These contained the main divisions of his 
 subject, and a sketch of all the leading ideas which he 
 meant to introduce, together with his formal references to 
 the Holy Bible. The impression produced by his written, 
 and by his extemporary sermons, is said to have been 
 much the same ; only it was remarked that he was slower 
 and more deliberate in the delivery of the latter than of 
 the former. 
 
 Puritans. 
 In the time of the civil war of Charles the First, it was 
 quite a common practice among the Puritans to inform 
 God of the transactions of the times. " Oh my good Lord 
 God,'' says Mr G. Swathe in his volume of prayers, " I 
 hear the king hath set up his standard at York against the 
 Parliament and city of London. Look thou upon them. 
 Take their cause into thine own hand ; appear thou in the 
 
3 64 Preachifig of the Pwitafis. 
 
 cause of thy saints, the cause in hand, it is thy cause. 
 Lord. We know that the king is misled, deluded, and 
 deceived, by his Popish, Arminian, and temporising, 
 rebellious, indignant faction and party," &c. They would, 
 says Dr Echard, in their prayers and sermons tell God, 
 that they would be willing to be at any charge and trouble 
 for Him, and to do as it were any kindness for the Lord ; 
 the Lord might now trust them and rely upon them, they 
 should not fail Him : they should not be unmindful of 
 His business : His work should not stand still, nor His 
 designs be neglected. They must needs say, that they 
 had formerly received some favours from God, and have 
 been, as it were, beholden to the Almighty ; but they did 
 not much question but that they should find some oppor- 
 tunity of making some amends for the many good things, 
 and, as I may so say, civilities which they had received 
 from Him. Indeed, as for those that are weak in the 
 faith, and are yet but babes in Christ, it is fit that they 
 should keep at some distance from God, should kneel 
 before Him and stand, as I may say, cap-in-hand to the 
 Almighty ; but as for those that are strong in all gifts, and 
 grown up in all grace, and are come to a fulness and 
 ripeness in the Lord Jesus, it is comely enough to take a 
 great chair, and sit at the end of the table, and with their 
 cocked hats on their heads say, God, we thought it not 
 amiss to call upon thee this evening, and let thee know how 
 affairs stand. We have been very watchful since we were 
 last with thee, and they are in a very hopeful condition. 
 We hope that thou wilt not forget us ; for we are very 
 thoughtful of thy concerns. We do somewhat long to 
 hear from thee ; and if thou pleasest to give us such a 
 thing, /. e. victory, we shall be, as I may so say, good to 
 
Action and Delivery. 365 
 
 thee in something else, when it lies in our way. The 
 rebellious too, would in their prayers, pretend to foretell 
 things, to encourage people in their rebellion. The 
 following instance is to be met with in the prayers of the 
 above-mentioned Mr George Swathe, minister of Denham 
 in Suffolk. " Oh ! my good Lord God, I praise thee for 
 discovering last week, in the day time, a vision, that there 
 were two great armies about York, one of the malignant 
 party about the king, the other party, Parliament and pro- 
 fessors ; and the better side should have help from heaven 
 against the worst j about, or at which instant of time, we 
 heard the soldiers at York had raised up a sconce against 
 Hull, intending to plant fifteen pieces against Hull j 
 against which fort, Sir John Hotham, keeper of Hull, by a 
 garrison, discharged four great ordnance, and broke down 
 the sconce, and killed divers cavaliers in it. Lord, I 
 praise thee for discovering this victory, at the instant of 
 time that it was done, to my wife, which did then presently 
 confirm her drooping heart, which the last week had been 
 dejected three or four days, and no arguments could 
 comfort her against the dangerous times approaching; 
 but when she had prayed to be established in faith in 
 thee, then presently thou didst by this vision, strongly 
 possess her soul, that thine, and our enemies should be 
 overcome." 
 
 ACTION AND DELIVERY. 
 
 Advice to Yonng Preachers. 
 
 Diacomis. Is there anything against which you particu- 
 larly guard me in delivering my sermons % 
 
 Pastor. Yes ; guard against speaking in an unnatural 
 and artificial voice. 
 
366 Action and Delivery, 
 
 D. I am glad that you have mentioned this ; for I 
 perceive that ahiiost every minister in the pulpit speaks in 
 a voice which he never uses on any other occasion, and I 
 am well assured that it is that which makes sermons in 
 general so uninteresting. Can you tell me how I may 
 manage to find, as it were, my natural voice % 
 
 P. Yes ; before you read your sermon at home, speak 
 some sentence in a whisper to your chair, or writing desk, 
 if you please, as to a living object; and then suppose this 
 imaginary auditor to recede from you to the distance of 
 five yards, ten yards, twenty yards, and strengthen your 
 voice progressively in proportion to the distance ; and then 
 again, suppose him to approach you gradually, in the 
 manner in which he had receded, and let the force of your 
 voice proportionably abate, till, on account of his proximity, 
 you find a whisper will suffice. Do this \ and if your 
 whisper at the beginning and end be a natural whisper, 
 you may be sure that you have kept your natural voice. 
 If you speak to two thousand people you should not rise 
 to a different key, but still preserve your customary pitch. 
 The only difference you are to make, is from the piano to 
 the forte of the same note. You know that on a violincello, 
 you may sound scarcely to be heard ; or that you may 
 strike it with such force, that it shall twang again. So it 
 is with your voice, it is by the strength, and not by the 
 elevation of it that you are heard. You will remember that 
 a whole discourse is to be delivered, and if you get into 
 an unnatural key, you will both injure yourself and weary 
 your audience. 
 
 D. And is this the plan you would recommend for 
 reading the prayers % 
 
 F. No. I have an easier and better plan for that 
 
Ungraceful Delivery. 367 
 
 never read the prayers, but pray them. Utter them 
 precisely as you would, if you were addressing the Almighty, 
 in the same language in your secret chamber ; only of 
 course you must strengthen your voice as in the former 
 case. 
 
 Ungraceful Delivery, 
 '' To other causes of the unpopularity of sermons may 
 be added the extremely ungraceful manner in which they 
 are delivered. The English, generally remarkable for 
 doing very good things in a very bad manner, seem to 
 have reserved the maturity and plenitude of their awkward- 
 ness for the pulpit. A clergyman clings to his velvet 
 cushion with either hand, keeps his eye riveted on his book, 
 speaks of the ecstacies of joy and fear with a voice and a 
 face which indicate neither, and pinions his body and soul 
 into the same attitude of liinb and thought, for fear of 
 being called theatrical and affected. The most intrepid 
 veteran of us all dares no more than wipe his face with his 
 cambric sudarium ; if, by mischance, his hand slips from 
 its orthodox gripe of the velvet, he draws it back as from 
 liquid brimstone or the caustic iron of the law, and atones 
 for this indecorum by fresh inflexibility and more rigorous 
 sameness. Is it wonder then that every semi-delirious 
 sectary, who pours forth his animated nonsense with the 
 genuine look and voice of passion, should. gesticulate away 
 the congregation of the most profound and learned divine 
 of the Established Church, and in two days preach him bare 
 to the very sexton % Why are we natural everywhere but in 
 the pulpit % No man expresses warm and animated feel- 
 ings anywhere else with his mouth alojie, but with his 
 luhole body ; he articulates with every limb, and talks from 
 
368 Ungraceful Delivery, 
 
 head to foot with a thousand voices. Why this holoplexia 
 on sacred occasions alone % Why call in the aid of paralysis 
 to piety? Is it a rule of oratory to balance the style 
 against the subject, and to handle the most sublime truths 
 in the driest manner % Is sin to be taken from men, as 
 Eve was from Adam, by casting them into a deep slumber % 
 Or from what possible perversion of common sense are we 
 all to look like field-preachers in Zembla, holy lumps ot 
 ice, numbed into quiescence, stagnation, and mumbling % 
 
 " It is theatrical to use action, and it is methodistical to 
 use action. But we have cherished contempt for sectaries, 
 and persevered in dignified tameness so long, that while 
 we are freezing common sense for large salaries in stately 
 churches, amidst whole acres and furlongs of empty pews, 
 the crowd are feasting on ungrammatical fervour and 
 illiterate animation in the crumbling hovels of Methodists. 
 If influence over the imagination can produce these power- 
 ful effects, if this be the chain by which the people are 
 dragged captive at the wheel of enthusiasm, why are we, 
 v/ho are rocked in the cradle of ancient genius, who hold 
 in one hand the book of the wisdom of God, and in the 
 other grasp that eloquence which ruled the Pagan world — 
 why are we never to rouse, to appeal, to inflame, to break 
 through every barrier, up to the very haunts and chambers 
 of the soul ? If the vilest interest upon earth can daily call 
 forth all the powers of the mind, are we to harangue on 
 public order and public happiness, to picture a reuniting 
 world, a resurrection of souls, and to unveil the throne of 
 God, with a wretched apathy which we neither feel nor 
 show in the most trifling concerns of Hfe ? This surely 
 can be neither decency nor piety, but ignorant shame, 
 boyish bashfulness, luxurious indolence, or anything but 
 
Bell on the Action of the Hand. 369 
 
 propriety and sense. There is, I grant, something dis- 
 couraging at present to a man of sense in the sarcastical 
 phrase of popular preacher ; but I am not entirely without 
 hope, that the time may come when energy in the pulpit 
 will be no longer considered as a mark of superficial un- 
 derstanding ; when animation and affection will be sepa- 
 rated ; when churches will cease (as Swift says) to be public 
 dormitories ; and sleep be no longer looked upon as the 
 most convenient vehicle of good sense." — Preface to Sydney 
 Smith's Sermons. 
 
 Bell on the Action of the Hand. 
 "On expression in the hand. Before we conclude let us 
 speak of the hand as an organ of expression. Formal dis- 
 sertations have been composed on this topic. But were 
 we to seek for authorities, we should take in evidence the 
 works of the great painters. By representing the hands 
 disposed in conformity with the attitudes of the figures, 
 the old masters have been able to express every different 
 kind of sentiment in their compositions. Who, for example, 
 has not been sensible to the expression of reverence in the 
 hands of the Magdalens by Guido, to the eloquence in 
 those of the Cartoons by Raphael, or in the significant 
 force in those of the Last Supper by Da Vinci % In these 
 great works may be seen all that Quintilian says the hand 
 is capable of expressing : — ' For other parts of the body 
 assist the speaker, but these I may say speak for themselves. 
 By them we ask, we promise, we invoke, we dismiss, 7ve 
 threaten, we entreat, we deprecate, we express fear, joy, grief 
 our doubts, our assent, our peniteiice ; %ve show moderation, 
 profusion; we mark number and time." " — Murray's edit, of 
 Bell, 1854, p. 262. 
 
 2 A 
 
370 D?' Johnson on Action. 
 
 Addison on Action. 
 " We can speak of life and death in cold blood, and 
 though our zeal breaks out in the finest tropes and figures, 
 it is not able to stir a limb about us. In England we see 
 people lulled to sleep with solid and elaborate discourses 
 of piety, who would be warmed and transported out of 
 themselves by the bellowings and distortions of enthusiasm. 
 If nonsense, when accompanied with such an emotion of 
 voice and body, has such an influence on men's minds, 
 what might we not expect from many of those admirable 
 discourses which are printed in our tongue, were they de- 
 livered with becoming fervour, and with the most agreeable 
 graces of voice and gesture 1 " — Addison's Works, by Bp, 
 Hurd, vol. iii. p. 386. 
 
 Dr Johnson on Action. 
 *' Whether action may not be of use in churches where 
 the preacher addresses a mingled audience may deserve 
 inquiry. It is certain that the senses are more powerful as 
 the reason is weaker, and that he whose ears convey little 
 to the mind may sometimes listen with his eyes, till truth 
 takes possession of his heart. If there be any use of 
 gesticulation in the pulpit, it must be applied to the 
 ignorant and rude, who will be more affected by vehemence 
 than delighted by propriety." — Rambler^ 
 
INDEX 
 
 Abbe Beauvais, 
 
 Abbe D'Espagnac, 
 
 Abuse of the pulpit, ... ... 
 
 Action and delivery, ... 
 
 Adam a philosopher, 
 
 Adams, Thomas, 
 
 Addison on action, 
 
 Addressing an audience, different modes of, 
 
 Advice to the bishops, 
 
 Advice to overbearing men, 
 
 Advice to preachers, John Byrom's, 
 
 Advice to young preachers, 
 
 ^Ifric, Bishop, 
 
 Alderman who slept at church, the, 
 
 Alibi, proving an. 
 
 Almsgiving, Bourdaloue's remarks on, ... 
 
 American preaching, ... 
 
 American pulpit pungencies, ... 
 
 Andre, (Father,) character of, ... 
 
 Andrew, St, ... 
 
 Andrewes, Launcelot, 
 
 Anecdotes about Plagiarists, ... 
 
 Anecdotes of Dr Oliver Maillard, 
 
 Anecdotes of Dr Robert South, 
 
 Anecdotes of Father Andre, ... 
 
 Anecdotes of Father Maimbourg, 
 
 Anecdotes of Robert Robinson, 
 
 Anecdotes of Rowland Hill, 
 
 Anecdotes of Whitefield, 
 
 An eminent judge on the Temple Church, 
 
 Anthony, (St,) of Padua, 
 
 Anthony, of Vieyra, ... 
 
 Archbishop Cranmer, ... 
 
 Archbishop Fenelon, ... 
 
 FAGS 
 133 
 136 
 
 50 
 36s 
 190 
 160 
 370 
 
 64 
 143 
 106 
 341 
 365 
 
 33 
 166 
 265 
 "S 
 227 
 260 
 
 62 
 116 
 165 
 267 
 
 56 
 
 102 
 202 
 282 
 
37^ T'fidex, 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Archbishop Leighton, character of, ... ... ... ... " ... 165 
 
 Archbishop Ussher, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 149 
 
 Architecture, (pulpit,) in England, ... ... ... ... ... 13 
 
 Arresting the attention, on the necessity of, ... ... ... ... 272 
 
 Arts for obtaining popularity, ... ... ... ... ... ... 86 
 
 Augustine, St, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 29 
 
 A.\iey, James, ... ... " ... ... ... ... ... 255 
 
 Backwoods congregation, sermon to a, ... ... ... ... 255 
 
 Barlette of Naples, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 65 
 
 Barrow, Dr Isaac, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 182 
 
 Basil, (St,) the eloquence of, ... ... ... ... ... ... 28 
 
 Beam, the, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 225 
 
 Beauvais, Abbe, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 135 
 
 Bede, Venerable, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 30 
 
 Bedell, (Dr,) of Philadelphia, ... ... ... ... ... ... 262 
 
 Beecher, Dr Lyman, ... ... ... ... ... „. 264 
 
 Bell on the action of the hand, ... ... ... ... ... 369 
 
 Benson, Joseph, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 324 
 
 Bernard, (Richard,) quaint method of, ... ... ... ... ... 156 
 
 Bernard, St, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 42 
 
 Bernard, (St.) sermons of, ... ... -.. ... ... ... 45 
 
 Berridge, John, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 269 
 
 Bishop /Elfric, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 33 
 
 Bishop Latimer, ... ... ... ... ... ... .. 139 
 
 Bishop Maboul, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 137 
 
 Bishop Oito and the consecration sermon, ... ... ... ... 53 
 
 Bishop Sherlock, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 293 
 
 Bishop Jeremy Taylor, ... ... ... ... ... ... 171 
 
 Bishop Wulfstan, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 33 
 
 Bishops, advice to the, ... ... ... ... ... ... 143 
 
 Bishopric, (a,) or the I?astille, ... ... ... ... ... ... 135 
 
 Bishopric, singular instance of promotion to a, ... ... ... ... 186 
 
 Blair, (Dr,) on Bishop Sherlock, ... ... ... ... ... 294 
 
 Boldness and fidelity of Massillon, ... ... ... ... ... 126 
 
 Boldness and freedom in the pu pit, ... ... ... ... ... 132 
 
 Boniface, St, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 32 
 
 Bosc, Peter du, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 133 
 
 Bossuet, Jacques Benigne, ... ... ... ... ... ... 117 
 
 Bourdaloue, (Louis,) the Jesuit, ... ... ... ... ... 114 
 
 Bradburn, Samuel, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 317 
 
 Bridaine, Father, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... log 
 
 Brinckerinck, Thomas, ... ... ... ... ... ... 78 
 
 Brother Roger, the ecstatic, ... ... ... ... ... ... 68 
 
 Brown, (Dr,) on the preaching of Chalmers, ... ... ... ... 288 
 
 Bunting, Dr Jabez, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 325 
 
 Bunyan, John ... ... ... ... ... ••• ••. 199 
 
 California, street preaching in, ... ... ... ... ... 270 
 
 Calvin, John, ... ... ... ... ... ••• ••• 106 
 
 Cant, Andrew, ... ... ... ... ... ••• .•• 180 
 
 Capuchin's sermon at Vienna, a, ... ... ... ••• ••• 37 
 
 Cardinals, a serm-'U for, ... ... ... ... ••• •'• 104 
 
 Cases of inattention, ... ... ... ... .•• ... ••• »73 
 
Index, 
 
 373 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Cecil on long sermons, ... ... ... .. .., ... 358 
 
 Chalmers, Dr, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 285 
 
 Charles II. and Dr South, ... ... ... ... ... ... 192 
 
 Chatenier, Father, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... no 
 
 Cheating in trade, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 58 
 
 Cheating the doggies, ... ... ... ... ... ... 290 
 
 Chesterfield (Lord) and Whitefield, ... ... ... ... ... 249 
 
 Chevreau, Urban, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 64 
 
 Chillingworth, William, ... ... ... ... ... ... 1^7 
 
 Christian orator, the great, .., ... ... ... ... ... 25 
 
 Christian pulpit in the fourth century, the ... ... ... ... 21 
 
 Chrysostom, (St,) the eloquence of, ... ... ... ... ... 26 
 
 Churches in the fourth century, ... ... ... ... ... 12 
 
 Clarke, Dr Adam, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 322 
 
 Clerical authorship, vanity of, ... ... ... ... ... 304 
 
 Clunaic monks, gluttony, vanity, and hypocrisy of, .>. ... ... 42 
 
 Colion of Nismes, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 65 
 
 Collins, John, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 251 
 
 Condensation of style, ... ... ... ... ... ... jg2 
 
 Conspiracy, Holy Maid of Kent's, ... ... ... ... ... 146 
 
 Cook, Valentine, .. ... ... ... ... ... ... 252 
 
 Coster, Francis, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 75 
 
 Courage of Massillon, the, ... ... ... ... ... ... 123 
 
 Courageous preaching, ... ... ... ... ... ... 123 
 
 Cranmer, Archbishop, the prudence of, ... ... ... ... 50 
 
 Creation, the power of God in, ... ... ... ... ... nS 
 
 Criticism on the style of Massillon, ... ... ... ... ... 122 
 
 Crying in the wrong place, ... ... ... ... ... ... 235 
 
 Curious cathedral custom, ... ... ... ... ... ... 182 
 
 Dangers of the world, ... ... ... .., ... ... jjg 
 
 D'Espagnac, Abbe, ... ... ... ..' |'.'. ." .". 135 
 
 Declamation in the pulpit, ... ... ... .,' ... .'.* 109 
 
 Delightful mediseval tale, ... ... ... ."., '"„ ... 75 
 
 Delivery and action, ... ... ... ... ... .,^ ..] ^g^ 
 
 Denunciation of reading sermons in time of Charles II., '*' !." .*.*.' 177 
 
 Description of a wise and prudent wife, ... ... ... ... 154 
 
 Different modes of addressing an audience, .*.*. V.'. ... ... 64 
 
 Dogs, sermon on, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... jqj 
 
 Dow, Lorenzo, ... ... ... ... .''* *"' ... 229 
 
 Drowsy preachers, ... ... .**. .'.'* .'.*' '.'' '** ^57 
 
 Dryness in the pu'pit, ... *'.* ".*'. ]]' .''" ]." ,44 
 
 Duelling, sermon against, ... .*.*.' .*.*.* *.'.'. V.'. '.".". ic8 
 
 Dull discourse, a, ... ,„ ... .*.*. ]** *'" ,[[ jq„ 
 
 Early efforts of Robert Hall, ... ... ... ... .. ... ,04 
 
 Early mediaeval preachers, ... ... ].'.' .".'.' .'.'.' .**.' go 
 
 Eccentricities of Rowland Hill, ... '.*.'. '..'. *.'.'. '.".'. 283 
 
 Edict of Nantes, revocation of the, ... ... .'." *.'.' *" 103 
 
 Elect, on the small number of the, ... ... ",'„ ]" ]|] 127 
 
 Electioneering sermon, ... ... .'.| |" |" |" _q8 
 
 Eloquence of St Basil, the, ... ... ..' **.' '** ,'*.' 28 
 
 Eloquence of St Chrysostom, the, ... ..'. *.'* ",'„ "'. 26 
 
 Eloquence of Massillon, ... ... ... ,.. ,[| ". jgj 
 
374 Index. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Eloquent tribute of Dr Chalmers to Pascal, ... ... ... ... 134 
 
 Esprit Flechier, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... m 
 
 Evangelical painting, specimen of, ... ... ... ... ... 266 
 
 Evans, Christmas, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 219 
 
 Evans, (Christmas,) last words of, ... ... ... ... ... 226 
 
 Everard, Dr John, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 158 
 
 Everlasting burnings, sermon on the, ... ... ... ... ... 80 
 
 Evil of long sermons, ... ... ... ... ... ... 88 
 
 Exercises, long pulpit, ... ... ... ... ... ... 279 
 
 Extempore preaching, ... ... ... ... ... aS, 178 
 
 Extracts from mediaeval sermons, ... ... ... ... ... 51 
 
 Extracts from Raulin, ... ... ... ... ... ... 67 
 
 Extraordinary effects of Whitefield's preaching, ... ... ... 241 
 
 Fair weather, say your prayers in, ... ... ... ... ... 359 
 
 Fall, (the,) and recovery of man, ... ... ... ... ... 220 
 
 Family prayer, Robert Hall on, ... ... ... ... ... 303 
 
 Farel, William, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 105 
 
 Farindon, Anthony, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 207 
 
 Father Andre, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 100 
 
 Father Andre's use of Proverbs, ... ... ... ... ... 63 
 
 Father Bridaine, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 109 
 
 Father Chatenier, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 110 
 
 Father Faber's story, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 84 
 
 Father Fulgentio, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 85 
 
 P'ather Gonthier, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 131 
 
 Father Maimbourg, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... loi 
 
 Father Segneri, the Jesuit, ... ... ... ... ... ... 79 
 
 Father Selle, _ .... 98 
 
 Father Seraphin, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 91 
 
 Faucheur, Michael Le, ... ... ... ... ... ... 108 
 
 Fawkes, the Rev. Mr, ... ... ... ... ... ... 30S 
 
 Fenelon, Archbishop, ... ... ... ... ... ... 92 
 
 Fervent preaching of the gospel, ... ... ... ... ... 92 
 
 Field, Dr, ... 180 
 
 Finishing one's education, ... ... ... ... ... ... 121 
 
 Fishes, sermon to the, ... ... ... ... ... ... 94 
 
 Flavel, John, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 153 
 
 Flechier, Esprit, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... iii 
 
 Frailty, (the,) of man, ... ... ... ... ... ... 119 
 
 Francis Coster, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 75 
 
 Franciscan's recantation, the, ... ... ... ... ... 69 
 
 Frederic the Wise, profound observations of, ... ... ... ... 74 
 
 Free church, the, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 289 
 
 Fulgentio , Father, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 85 
 
 Funeral oration by St Bernard, ... ... ... ... ... 46 
 
 Funeral orations and their tendency, ... ... ... ... ... 70 
 
 Gabriel in the spruce pine tree, ... ... ... ... ... 231 
 
 General rules for a preacher, ... ... ... ... ... ... 318 
 
 German pulpit orators, ... ... ... ... ... ... 72 
 
 Gibbon on the power of the pulpit, ... ... ... ... ... 22 
 
 Gilpin, Bernard, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 215 
 
 Gonthier, Father, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 131 
 
Index. 
 
 375 
 
 Good advice to the pulpits, ... ... ... ... ... ,., 200 
 
 Good pastor, quaint description of a, ... ... ... ... .,] yg 
 
 Good preacher, the, ... ... ... ... ... ... .,, 007 
 
 Good preaching, rarity of, ... ... ... ... .,. .,, j .3 
 
 Good results of hearing mass, ... ... ... ,.. .,. ^2 
 
 Great Christian orator, the, ... ... ... ... ... ,.[ 25 
 
 Great mediaeval orator, the, ... ... ... ... ,., ,.. .5 
 
 Great preachers love proverbs, ... ... ... ... „^ 1^5 
 
 Greek and Latin quotations in sermons, ... ... ... ... 210 
 
 Gymnastic exercises in the pulpit, ... ... ... ... ... gy 
 
 Hall, (Robert,) anecdote of, ... ... ... ... ... .., 248 
 
 Hall, Robert, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 300 
 
 Hall's, (Robert,) opinion of Bunting, ... ... ... ... ... 326 
 
 Hall's, (R.,) opinion of Richard Watson, ... ... ... ... 337 
 
 Hand, (the,) Bell on the action of, ... ... ... ... ... 369 
 
 Harris, (Dr,) of Hanwell, ... ... ... ... ... ... 185 
 
 Heathen, state of the, ... ... ... ... ... ... 338 
 
 Heathen temples, _ ... ... ... ... ... ... ... n 
 
 Heatmg apparatus in churches, ... ... ... ,„ ... 249 
 
 Heber's description of Hooker, Jeremy Taylor, and Barrow, ... ... 171 
 
 Henry IV. reproved in church, ... ... ... ... ... 131 
 
 Hill, Rowland, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 281 
 
 Holy Maid of Kent's conspiracy, ... ... ... ... ... 146 
 
 Hooker, Richard, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 171 
 
 Horneck, Dr, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 299 
 
 Hour-glass, the, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 86 
 
 How to arrest the attention, ... ... ... ... ... ... 273 
 
 How to preach a sleepy sermon, ... ... ... ... ... 278 
 
 How to rouse the sleepers in church, ... ... ... ... ... 167 
 
 How to use the world, _ ... ... ... ... ... ... uj 
 
 Howels, the Rev. William, ... ... ... ... ... ... 313 
 
 Humour in sermons, ... ... ... ... ... ... 63 
 
 Huntingdon, William, ... ... ... ... ... ... 309 
 
 Huntingdon, self-assurance of, ... ... ... ... ... 311 
 
 Ignorance of the monks, ... ... ... ... .„ ... 73 
 
 Illustrating and expounding, singular method of, ... ... ... T58 
 
 Important considerations in making a sermon, ... ... ... 358 
 
 Inattention, cases of, ... ... ... ... ... ... 273 
 
 Ingenious method of exciting attention, ... ... ... ... 308 
 
 Infidel, (American,) conversion of an, ... ... ... ... ... 254 
 
 Influence of fault-finding, ... ... ... ... ... ... 263 
 
 Influence of the pulpit, the true, ... ... ... ... ... 17 
 
 Intemperate warmth in the pulpit, ... ... ... ... ... 106 
 
 Introduction of Greek and Latin quotations in sermons, on the, ... 210 
 
 Irving, Edward, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 291 
 
 Is the influence of the pulpit declining? ... ... ... .. 16 
 
 Isocrates, (the,) of France, ... ... ... ... ... ... m 
 
 Italian eloquence, the restorer of, ... ... ... ... ... 80 
 
 Italian preaching, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 104 
 
 Jacques Benigne Bossuet, ... ... ... ... ... ... 117 
 
376 
 
 Index. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 fames, JohnAngell, ... ... ... ... ... ... 35° 
 
 fean Baptiste Massillon, ... ... ... ... ... ... 121 
 
 fean Claude, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... no 
 
 fean Raulin's style, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 66 
 
 fesuits, pulpits preferred by the, ... ... ... ... ••• 15 
 
 Johnson, (Dr,) on action, ... ... ... ... ... ... 370 
 
 Journey for the young child, the, ... ... ... ... ... 223 
 
 Julius Mascaron, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 131 
 
 King, John, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 180 
 
 Knox, John, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... i47 
 
 Kruber, Jacob, ... ... ... ... ... ... ♦ ... 258 
 
 La Rue, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 109 
 
 Lassenius, John, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 107 
 
 Last words of Christmas Evans, and others, ... ... ... ... 226 
 
 Latimer, Bishop, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 139 
 
 Laughing and crying in church, ... ... ... ... ... 233 
 
 Lay preacher by special licence, ... ... ... ... ... 147 
 
 Lecturing Queen Mary, ... ... ... ... ... ... 147 
 
 Leighton, Archbishop, ... ... ... ... ... ... 164 
 
 Length of Dr B.-irrow's sermons, ... ... ... ... ... 183 
 
 Lewis XIV., and Bossuet, ... ... ... ... ... ... 120 
 
 Literary history of the pulpit in France, ... ... ... ... 71 
 
 Long pulpit exercises, ... ... ... ... ... ... 279 
 
 Long sermons, evil of, ... ... ... ... ... ... 88 
 
 Louis Bouidaloue, the Jesuit, ... ... ... ... ... 114 
 
 Luther, Martin, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 72 
 
 Luther's maxims for preaching, ... ... ... ... ... 72 
 
 Lyons, (Dr,) Bishop of Cork, 186 
 
 Maboul, the Bishop of Aeth, ... ... ... ... ... ... 137 
 
 M'AU, Dr Robert Stephens, ... ... ... ... ... ... 345 
 
 Maillard, Dr Oliver, ... ... ... ... .., ... ... 55 
 
 Maimbourg, Father, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 101 
 
 Marshal Turenne, exordium of the funeral oration on, ... ... ... 112 
 
 Mascaron, Julius, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 131 
 
 Massillon, boldness and fidelity of, ... ... ... ... ... 126 
 
 Massillon, criticism on the style of, ... ... ... ... ... 122 
 
 Massillon, eloquence of, ... ... ... ... ... ... 127 
 
 MassiJon, the courage of, ... ... ... ... ... ... 123 
 
 Mastership of the temple, ... ... ... ... ... ... 294 
 
 Maxim to a young preacher, ... ... ... ... ... ... 89 
 
 Mediaeval sermons, extracts from, ... ... ... ... ... 51 
 
 Mediaeval preachers, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 69 
 
 Memory, (defects of,) in the pulpit, ... ... ... ... ... 179 
 
 Menot, Michael, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 59 
 
 Mental poverty of preachers, ... ... ... ... ... ... 51 
 
 Method of Bunting's preaching, the, ... ... ... ... ... 327 
 
 Michael Le Faucheur, ... ... ... ... ... ... 108 
 
 Michael Menot's style, ... ... ... ... ... ... 60 
 
 Milon, of Poitiers, the Crusader, ... ... ... ... ... 71 
 
 Miracles, passage on, ... ... ... ... ... ... 293 
 
Index. ^"jj 
 
 Missions, R. Watson on, ... ... ... ... ... ... 340 
 
 Modes of arresting attention, ... ... ... ... ... 228 
 
 Monkish error, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 73 
 
 Monks, ignorance of the, ... ... ... ... ... ... 73 
 
 Mossman, Dr, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 300 
 
 Music, Richard Hooker on, ... ... ... ... ... ... 171 
 
 Nantes, revocation of the edict of, ... ... ... ... ... 103 
 
 Narni, PhiHp de, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 37 
 
 Keff, Fehv, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 236 
 
 Newton, Dr Robert, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 331 
 
 Old Yorkshire sermons, ... ... ... ... ... ... 343 
 
 Oliver Mailiard, Dr, ... ... ... ... ... ... 55 
 
 On the small number of the elect, ... ... ... ... 128 
 
 Oration, (Funeral,) by St Bernard, ... ... ... ... ... 46 
 
 Orations, Funeral, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 70 
 
 Oratory, (pulpit), rise and progress of the, ... ... ... ... 22 
 
 Origin of Irving's popularity, ... ... ... ... ... 291 
 
 Orkney assistant curate, the, ... ... ... ... ... 296 
 
 Otto (Bishop) and the consecration sermon ... ... ... ... 53 
 
 Overbearing men, advice to, ... ... ... ... ... 106 
 
 Parable and story-telling style of preaching, ... ... ... ... 75 
 
 Paramount duties of Christians, on the, ... ... ... ... 207 
 
 Pascal, tribute of Dr Chalmers to, ... ... ... ... ... 134 
 
 Passages from mediaeval sermons, ... ... ... ... ... 40 
 
 Peace with conscience, ... ... ... ... ... ... 152 
 
 Personality in the American pulpit, ... ... ... ... ... 235 
 
 Personality of seventeenth century preachers, ... ... ... 166 
 
 Peter du Bosc, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 133 
 
 Philip de Narni, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 37 
 
 Piety and eloquence of Jeremy Taylor, ... ... ... ... 175 
 
 Plagiarism and plagiarists, ... ... ... ... ... ... 253 
 
 Playfere, Thomas, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 151 
 
 Polite and fashionable preachers, ... ... ... ... ... 258 
 
 Popular preacher, (the,) and his plagiarisms, ... ... ... ... 267 
 
 Popularity, arts for obtaining, ... ... ... ... ... 86 
 
 Practice of reading sermons, ... ... ... ... ... 177 
 
 Prayer, (family,) Robert Hall on, ... ... ... ... ... 303 
 
 Preach a sleepy sermon, how to, ... ... ... ... ... 278 
 
 Preachers, advice to, ... ... ... ... 168, 318, 341, 365 
 
 Preachers, mental poverty of, ... ... ... ... ... 51 
 
 Preachers of the middle ages, ... ... ... ... ... 36 
 
 Preaching, American, ... ... ... ... ... ... 227 
 
 Preaching of Dr Chalmers, ... ... ... ... ... ... 286 
 
 Preaching of Massillon, ... ... ... ... ... ... 125 
 
 Preaching on the duties of the times ... ... ... ... 165 
 
 Preaching power in the fourth century, ... ... ... ... 23 
 
 Preaching prizes, ... _ ... ... ... ... ... ... 87 
 
 Presbyterian eloquence displayed, ... ... ... ... ... 150 
 
 Prodigal son, droll sermon on the, ... ... ... ... ... 98 
 
 Prolixity of seventeenth century sermons, ... ... ... ... 107 
 
378 
 
 Lidex. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Proverbs in sermons, ... ... ... ... *.i ...63,176 
 
 Providence Chapel ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 312 
 
 Proving an alibi, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 265 
 
 Prudence of Archbishop Cranmer, the, ... ... ... ... 50 
 
 Pulpit, abuse of the, ... ... ... ... ... ... 50 
 
 Pulpit architecture in England, ... ... ... ... ... 13 
 
 Pulpit drolleries, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 97 
 
 Pulpit flattery, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 306 
 
 Pulpit hour-giass, the, ... ... ... ... •.. ... 86 
 
 Pulpit, the true influence of the, ... ... ... ... ... 17 
 
 Pulpit oratory, rise and progress of the, ... ... ... ... 22 
 
 Pulpit pungencies, ... ... ... ... ... «.. ... 260 
 
 Pulpits of Italy, the, ... ... ... ... ... ... 14 
 
 Pulpits preferred b the Jesuits, ... ... ... ... ... 15 
 
 Pungencies, American pulpit, ... ... ... ... ... 260 
 
 Punishment of lost souls, ... ... ... ... ... ... 30 
 
 Punning, the spirit of, ... ... ... ... ... ... 180 
 
 Puritans, common practice among, ... ... ... ... ... 363 
 
 Quaint American modes of arresting attention, ... ... ... 228 
 
 Quaint description of a good pastor, ... ... ... ... ... 78 
 
 Quaint sayings and maxims, ... ... ... ... ... 161 
 
 Quaint titles of sermons, ... ... ... ... ... ... 193 
 
 Quarrelling in Church, ... ... ... ... ... ... 217 
 
 Queen Elizabeth and Bishop Rudd, ... ... ... ... 148 
 
 Rarity of good preaching, ... ... ..» ... ... ... 148 
 
 RauHn, extracts from, ... ... ... ... ... ... 67 
 
 Reading sermons, practice and denunciation of, ... ... ... 177 
 
 Ready-made sermons, ... ... ... ... ... ... 266 
 
 Rebuke of the men of London, ... ... ... ... ... 144 
 
 Religious indiff"erence rebuked, ... ... ... ... ... 206 
 
 Remarkable preachers of the middle ages, ... ... ... ... 65 
 
 Reproving a bishop, ... ... ... ... ... ... 216 
 
 Revivalist, Dr Bunting a, ... ... ... ... ... ... 329 
 
 Revocation of the edict of Nantes, ... ... ... ... ... 103 
 
 Robinson, (Robert,) of Cambridge, ... ... ... ... ... 201 
 
 Robinson, (Thomas,) of Leicester, ... ... ... ... ... 362 
 
 Roger, (Brother,) the ecstatic, ... ... ... ... ... 68 
 
 Rouse the sleepers in church, how to, ... ... ... ... 167 
 
 San Francisco, street preaching in, ... ... ... ... ... 272 
 
 Sancta Clara, Abraham, ... ... ... ... ... ... 95 
 
 Sanderson, Dr, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 178 
 
 Santeul, M., ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 109 
 
 Saurin, the Huguenot, ... ... ... ... ... ,.. 132 
 
 Seaman's, (a,) criticism, ... ... ... ... ... ... 299 
 
 Searching for a compliment, ... ... ... ... ... 91 
 
 Segneri, (Father,) the Jesuit, ... ... ... ... ... 79 
 
 Selden, (John,) on sermons, ... ... ... ... ... ... 351 
 
 Self-assurance of Huntingdon, ... ... ... ... ... 311 
 
 Self-taught preachers, sennons of, ... ... ... ... ... 344 
 
 SeLe, Father, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 98 
 
Index. 379 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Seraphin, Father, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 91 
 
 Sergeant If, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 269 
 
 Sermon, (a,) and its results, ... ... ... ... ... ... 205 
 
 Sermon for cardinals, a ... ... ... ... ... ... 104 
 
 Sermon, remarkable, ... ... ... ... ... ... 357 
 
 Sermon drolleries, ... ... .... ... ... ... ... 59 
 
 Sermons not worship, ... ... ... ... ... ... 20 
 
 Sermons of the middle ages, ... ... ... ... ... 36 
 
 Seventeenth century sermons, ... ... ... ... ... 107 
 
 Shaw, Dr, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 52 
 
 Sherlock, Bishop, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 293 
 
 Short sermon, a ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 100 
 
 Simeon, Charles, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 290 
 
 Singular announcement, ... ... ... ... ... ... 109 
 
 Sleepers in church, ... ... .„ ... ... ... 167 
 
 Sleeping abbe, (the,) reproved, ... ... ... ... ... 92 
 
 Sleepy congregation, a ... ... ... ... ... ... 107 
 
 Smiling and weeping in church, ... ... ... ... ... 234 
 
 Soul's, (the,) flight from earth to heaven, ... ... ... ... 83 
 
 South, Dr Robert, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 187 
 
 Sparkling Scripture instances, ... ... ... ... ... 40 
 
 Specimens of Howel's style, ... ... ... ... ... ... 315 
 
 Specimen of Sherlock's stvie, ... .. ... ... ... 29S 
 
 Specimens from Jeremy Taylor, ... ... ... ... ... 174 
 
 Specimens of R. Watson's style, ... ... ... ... ... 338 
 
 St Andrew, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 116 
 
 St Anthony of Padua, ... ... ... ... ... ... 49 
 
 St Basil, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 28 
 
 St Bernard, ... ... ... ... ... 49 
 
 St Boniface, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 32 
 
 St Chrysostom, quotations from, ... ... ... ... ... 25 
 
 St Chrysostom's method of preaching, ... ... ... ... 24 
 
 Sterne, Lawrence, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 194 
 
 Stoughton, John, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 152 
 
 Strange, John, _ ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 250 
 
 Street preaching in San Francisco, California, ... ... ... ... 270 
 
 Studying the Fathers, ... ... ... ... ... ... 73 
 
 Style of Bishop Andrewes, ... ... ... ... ... ... 169 
 
 Style of St Augustine, ... ... ... ... ... ... 29 
 
 Stj'le of the Venerable Bede, ... ... ... ... ... ... 31 
 
 Style of Dr Bunting, ... ... ... ... ... ... 328 
 
 Success of Huntingdon, ... ... ... ... ... ... 312 
 
 Superstition, denunciation of, ... ... ... ... ... 142 
 
 Tavernier, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 147 
 
 Taylor, (Jeremy,) piety and eloquence of, ... ... ... ... 175 
 
 Text, suggestive remarks on the choice of a, ... ... ... ... 205 
 
 Thomas, Dr, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 181 
 
 Thomas Playfere, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 151 
 
 Three scoffers, the, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 356 
 
 Time and chance, Sterne's sermon on, ... ... ... ... 195 
 
 Titles, (quaint,) of sermons, ... ... ... ... ... ... 193 
 
 Tongue, (the,) on the making of, ... ... ... ... ... 163 
 
 Toplady, Mr, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 266 
 
 Tourneau, M. le, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 91 
 
38o 
 
 Index. 
 
 Triumvirate, the first Wesleyan Methodist, 
 Triumvirate, the second Wesleyan Methodist, 
 True influence of the pulpit, the, 
 
 PAGE 
 17 
 
 Ungraceful delivery, ... 
 
 Unintentional plagiarism, 
 
 Unpreaching prelates, 
 
 Urban Chevreau, 
 
 Use of proverbs, 
 
 Ussher, (Archbishop,) as a prophet, 
 
 367 
 268 
 
 139 
 64 
 
 63 
 149 
 
 Value of a sermon, 
 
 Vanity of clerical authorship, ... 
 
 Venerable Bede, 
 
 Venn, Henry, 
 
 Village missionaries, ... 
 
 Violence of song, 
 
 Voices, commendation of. 
 
 87 
 304 
 
 30 
 205 
 284 
 283 
 162 
 
 Wagner, (George,) of Brighton, 
 
 Wandering discourses, 
 
 Wandering thoughts, ... 
 
 Watson, Richard, 
 
 Wearisome sermons, 
 
 Wesley on preaching, 
 
 Wesleyan Methodist Triumvirates, 
 
 What is truth? 
 
 Whimsical interruption, 
 
 Whitefield, anecdotes of, 
 
 Whitefield, George, ... 
 
 Whitefield and Lord Chesterfield, 
 
 Whitefield and Wesley compared, 
 
 Whiiefield's power over a mob, ^ ^ ... 
 
 Wife, (a wise and prudent,) description of, 
 
 Wilkinson, Robert, ... 
 
 Wilks, Matthew, 
 
 William Farel, ... ... •.. 
 
 Williamson, Dr, 
 
 Wisdom and power, ... ... ... 
 
 Wit, definition of, 
 
 Wulfstan, Bishop, ... ... ... 
 
 .. 358 
 . 358 
 274 
 335 
 89 
 247 
 317. 32s 
 86 
 307 
 248 
 239 
 249 
 242 
 240 
 154 
 154 
 249 
 105 
 300 
 345 
 184 
 
 33 
 
 Yorkshire sermons, (old,) 
 
 Young preachers, suggestive materials for. 
 
 343 
 168