2

various speeches of instruction.' George Herbert's Parson, 'when he preacheth, procures attention by all possible art : -by earnestness of speech; it being natural to men to think, that where there is much earnestness, there is something worth hearing.' Visible impression upon ourselves gives inexpressible weight to our subject. The Minister, that does not manifestly put his heart into his sermon, will never put his sermon into the hearts of his people. Pompous elocution, attempts at theatrical display, or affected emotions, are indeed most repugnant to the simple dignity of our office. A painted fire may glare, but will not warm. Violent agitations, without correspondent tenderness of feeling, will disgust instead of arresting the mind. Preaching is not (as some appear to think it) the work of the lungs, or the mimickry of gesture, or the impulse of uncontrolable feeling; but the spiritual energy of a heart constrained by the love of Christ, and devoted to the care of those immortal souls, for whom Christ died. Yet surely the habit of realizing our Master's presence, and the awful responsibility vested in us, will find expression in something beyond the tone of tame seriousness, and the general accuracy of pulpit decorum. The Country Parson finds the people 'thick and heavy, and hard to raise to a point of zeal and fervency, and needing a mountain of fire to kindle them.' He recommends therefore most beautifully, the dipping and seasoning all our words and sentences in our hearts, before they come into our mouths; truly affecting, and cordially expressing all that we can say, so that our auditors may plainly perceive, that every + word is heart-deep.' A lively impression of interest seems the natural result of a cordial belief of the Gospel; and therefore a want of expression of this interest conveys a plausible suspicion of the credibility of our message. For who could bring a true report of a fire, or of any extraordinary news, with a calm tone, gentle voice, or elegant expression? And can we wonder, that a cold correctness in the delivery of our instructions should weaken in our people a belief of their truth, or at

'Directions to Students of Theology.

2 Chapter vii.

3 While I have any reverence for Scripture, or any knowledge of human nature, I shall never affect to speak of the glories of Christ, and of the eternal interests of man, as coldly, as if I were reading a lecture of mathematics, or relating an experiment in natural philosophy.' Dr. Doddridge-Orton's Life, chap. v. King James remarked of one of his chaplains-This man preaches before me, just as if death was seated at his elbow.'

4 Chap. vii.

least of their importance; that they should consider it to be a work of office, for which we are paid, rather than as a matter of personal concern to themselves; and that, with such impressions, they should want the disposition necessary to give to preaching its due effect-a desire to hear? Indeed, so unnatural is it thus to speak of weighty subjects, that they would rather attach importance to a slight matter expressed with vehemence, than to a weighty truth conveyed in a lifeless manner. It has been well remarked that the really useful man in winning souls to Christ is he, who is so penetrated with the value of the doctrines of the Gospel, as to persuade by the zeal and sincerity of his manners, when a less earnest mode of teaching would have failed to convince.' 2 Some Ministers indeed of phlegmatic constitutions may manifest less of warmth and animation than others of far lower faith and Christian sensibility. All of us are orators when we feel. No eloquence can reach the energy and emotion of the language of the heart. Increased solemnity, and energy in the delivery of the message, should supply the want of sensible excitement; and fervent prayer should be employed to overcome constitutional languor, to quicken heavenly affections, and to bring them warm into immediate exercise for the enlivening of our people.

A want of fervency in our Ministrations is a serious hindrance to their efficiency. For though it is the same word, however preached; yet an earnest delivery adds to the naked truth the sensible exhibition of Divine love, and moves one of the most enlivening springs of conviction. On the other hand (as a sensible writer has observed) the monotonous wearisome sound of a single bell may be almost as soon expected to excite moral impressions, as the general tenor of public discourses, drowsily composed and drowsily delivered.' 4 Our people want their

See Sir R. Blackmore's Accomplished Preacher, Sect. viii. May we not learn a lesson of conviction from Garrick's reply to a preacher, who asked- How is it, that you who deal in nothing but fiction, can so affect your audience, as to throw them into tears; while we, who deliver the most awful and interesting truths, can scarcely produce any effect whatever?' Here lies the secret; you deliver your truths as if they were fictions; but we deliver our fictions as if they were truth.

2 Bishop of Winchester's Ministerial Character of Christ, p. 285.

3 Cicero (De Orat.) calls this lively representation evidence (evidentia)—the orator not seeming so much to speak, as to show the very things themselves, as if they were before the eyes. Quintilian's term is vision. Instit. Lib. viii.

* Jerningham's Essay on the Eloquence of the English Pulpit, prefixed to a Translation of Select Sermons from Bossuet.

Y

hearts, as well as their understandings, to be addressed. They want words flowing from the heart, giving power to argument by their piercing heat and penetrating force, and compassionate entreaty. However this fervour may be mistaken for the false fire of enthusiasm or vain glory, it is only the expression of a heart deeply impressed with the conviction, that religion is a matter of primary, immediate and universal concern. But which of us does not exhibit the inconsistency of apparent earnestness in the pulpit, with the general habit of cold and lifeless affections? To ascend the pulpit with a heart full of life, zeal, and love, is not a matter of course yet when "out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh," what unction seems to pervade the word! what a power of sympathy affects our people!

Baxter's impassioned pleadings show what our addresses ought to be, in order to give full effect to our message. 'How thin' (exclaims he) are those Ministers, that are serious in this work! Nay, how mightily do the best fail in this! Do we cry out of men's disobedience to the Gospel "in the demonstration of the Spirit ;" and deal with sin as the destroying fire in our towns, and by force pull men out of it? Do we persuade our people, as those should, who "know the terror of the Lord?" Do we press Christ and regeneration and faith and holiness,--believing that without these, men can never have life? Do our bowels yearn over the ignorant, careless, and obstinate multitude? When we look them in the face, do our hearts melt over them, lest we should never see their faces in rest? Do we, as St. Paul, "tell them weeping," of their fleshly and earthly disposition? and "teach them publicly, and from house to house," at all seasons and with many tears? And do we entreat them, as for their soul's salvation? Or rather, do we not study to gain the approbation of critical hearers; as if a Minister's business were of no more weight, but to tell a smooth

This is well borne out and illustrated by an eminent writer, who has never been suspected of giving encouragement to enthusiasm- The chief characteristics of the eloquence suited to the pulpit, as distinguished from the other kinds of public speaking, appear to me to be these two-gravity and warmth. The serious nature of the subjects belonging to the pulpit requires gravity—their importance to mankind requires warmth.' Dr. Blair's Lectures, Lect. xxix.-On the Eloquence of the Pulpit. Again he remarks- Gravity and warmth united, form that character of preaching which the French call unction-the affecting, penetrating, interesting manner, flowing from a strong sensibility of heart in the Preacher to the importance of those truths which he delivers, and an earnest desire, that they make a full impression on the hearts of his hearers.'

tale for an hour, and look no more after the people till the next sermon? Does not carnal prudence control our fervour, and make our discourses lifeless on subjects the most piercing? How gently we handle those sins, which will so cruelly handle our people's souls! In a word-our want of seriousness about the things of heaven, charms the souls of men into formality, and brings them into this customary careless hearing, which undoes them'-'I know not what others think,' (says he in another place) but for my own part, I am ashamed of my stupidity, and wonder at myself, that I deal not with my own and others' souls, as one that looks for the great day of the Lord; and that I can have room for almost any other thoughts or words, and that such astonishing matters do not wholly absorb my mind. I marvel, how I can preach of them slightly and coldly; and how I can let men alone in their sins; and that I do not go to them, and beseech them for the Lord's sake to repent, however they take it, or whatever pains or trouble it should cost me. I seldom come out of the pulpit, but my conscience smites me, that I have been no more serious and fervent in such a case. It accuses me, not so much for want of human ornaments or elegancy-but it asketh me- How couldst thou speak of life and death with such a heart?' The God of mercy pardon me, and awaken me with the rest of his servants, that have been thus sinfully negligent! O Lord, save us from the plague of infidelity and hard-heartedness ourselves; or else how shall we be fit instruments of saving others from it? 1

V.- DILIGENCE-THE SPIRIT OF SCRIPTURAL PREACHING.

How instructive is the constant eying of our Divine Pattern, consecrating his whole heart, his whole time, in his Father's work! His greatest diligence, however, was concentrated in his public Ministry. "He taught," when at Jerusalem, "daily in

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1 Reformed Pastor. How did the fervor of this holy man exemplify his own linesI'll preach as though I ne'er shall preach again;

And as a dying man to dying men!

1

the temple; '' and, wherever else a concourse was gathered, he was ready to open his mouth for hortatory, didactic, or illustrative instruction. The first labourers of the Gospel, and the Fathers of the early church, closely followed their Master's example. 3

The Apostle contemplated far greater danger from sloth, than from excessive activity in "preaching the word." He adjures therefore his beloved Timothy by the solemn view and anticipations of the day of account-to "be instant in season and out of season;" not only regular in the routine of preaching seasons; but under the guidance of an enlightened conscience, embracing every unlooked-for, and seemingly unseasonable, call to service. And what is there in the present day, that renders this diligence less necessary, less binding, or less effectual? Is not the mass of unconverted hearers as large with us as in the primitive church? And how can Christ's sheep among them "hear his voice" without a Preacher ? 5 No other medium will supersede this appointed channel of Divine communications. 6

The frequency of Sabbath-preaching must depend upon physical strength, and other circumstances, over which there can be no control. The willingness of the devoted spirit will be in general only restrained by the weakness of the flesh. A double exercise of our duty begins to be called for by the concurrent voices of our Diocesans. A familiar repetition of one of these exercises would profitably and popularly furnish a third service, should this addition be found either desirable or practicable. Few minds could long support the labour and excitement of bringing forth three successive subjects. Nor indeed could the digestive powers of our people healthfully receive so large a quantity of food; whereas the system of repetition assists instead of loading the digestion.

Much more is implied in this diligence, than the formal routine of a Sabbath address. Such a mechanical exhibition ill represents the parental obligations subsisting between a pastor

Luke xix. 47; xxi. 37; xxii. 53.

2 John vii. 37; Matt. v. xiii.

3 Acts v. 42; xix. 9; xx. 18-21. xxviii. 23, and notices in the Homiletical writings of the Fathers. Comp. Jer. xxvi. 5; Hag. ii. 10. 20.

4 2 Tim. iv. 1, 2. 5 John x. 16, 27; with Rom. x. 14. The apostle, though keeping up intercourse with the Thessalonians by his pen, still desired to see their face, for their better advantages of Christian instruction. 1 Thess. iii. 10.