02.02. THE NATURE OF EARNESTNESS contd

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Happy shall I feel if this feeble tribute, not only of the recommendation of my pen—but of my heart’s gratitude for the benefit I have derived from this production, shall induce any of my brethren to peruse this precious gift, which has been offered to them by a writer who veils himself under the modest title of "One of the least among the Brethren." Do we need examples and patterns of eminent and earnest piety, how richly are they supplied both in number and in quality in the pages of our own denominational history! Where is the deep, ardent, experimental godliness of our ancestors, the fathers and founders of Protestant nonconformity? What a theologian was Owen, when he wrote his "Exposition of the Hebrews," what a polemic when he penned his "Controversy" with Biddle; what an ecclesiastic when he drew up his "Treatise on Church Government," but what a Christian when he indulged in his "Meditations on the Glory of Christ," and gave us his treatise "On Spirituality of Mind and the Mortification of Sin."

What a logician and divine was Howe, when he produced his "Living Temple," but what a Christian, when in the shadow of this noble structure of his holy genius, he poured out his heart in his work on "Delighting in God," and the "Blessedness of the Righteous." And then think of holy Baxter, who gained repose from the labors of polemic strife, and relief from the tortures of the stone, in the believing anticipations of "The Saint’s Rest." Was their piety the result of their sufferings? Then for one I could be almost content to take the latter, so that I might be possessed of the former. Lead me to the spots, I do not say where they trimmed their midnight lamp, and continued at their studies until the morning star glittering through their casement chided them to their pillow; but to those more hallowed scenes, where they held their nightly vigils, and wrestled with the angel until the break of day. Mighty shades of Owen and Baxter, Howe and Manton, Henry and Bates, Goodwin and Nye, illustrious and holy men, we thank you for the rich legacy you have bequeathed to us in your immortal works—but O where has the mantle of your piety fallen? "God of our fathers! be the God of their following race."

Here then let us begin, where indeed we ought to begin, with our own spirits; for what should be the piety of that man on the state of whose heart depends in no small degree the spiritual condition of a whole Christian community? If we turn to any department of human action we shall learn that no one can inspire a taste, much less a passion, for the object of his own pursuit, who is not himself most powerfully moved by it. It is a scintillation of his zeal flying off from his own glowing heart, and falling upon their souls, which kindles in them the fire which burns in himself. Lukewarmness can excite no ardor, originate no activity, produce no effect—it benumbs whatever it touches. If we enquire what were the sources of the energy, and the springs of the activity, of the most successful ministers of Christ, we shall find that they lay in the ardor of their devotion. They were men of prayer and of faith. They dwelt upon the mount of communion with God, and came down from it like Moses to the people, radiant with the glory on which they had themselves been intently gazing. They stationed themselves where they could look at unseen and eternal things, and came with the stupendous visions fresh in their view, and preached under the impression of what they had just seen and heard. They drew their thoughts and made their sermons from their minds and from their books—but they breathed life and power into them from their hearts, and in their closets. Trace Whitfield in his career, and you will see how beaten was the road between his pulpit and his closet—the grass was not allowed to grow in that path. This was in great part the secret of his power. He was mighty in public, because in his retirement he had clothed himself, so to speak, with Omnipotence. He reflected the luster he had caught in the Divine presence; and its attraction was irresistible. The same might be said of all others who have attained to eminence as successful preachers of the gospel. If then we would see a revival of the power of the pulpit, we must first of all see a revival in the piety of those who occupy it—and when this is the case, then, "he who is feeble among us shall be mighty as King David."

V. Earnestness will manifest itself by energetic and untiring action in use of those means by which its object is accomplished. It does not satisfy itself with mere contemplation, however enraptured. It does not satisfy itself with mere schemes, however well concerted. It does not satisfy itself with mere wishes, however fervent. It does not satisfy itself with mere anticipations, however lively. But sincere earnestness proceeds to vigorous, well arranged, and well adapted exertion. An earnest man must of necessity be an active one—he is the opposite of an idle dreamer. "I see my object," he exclaims; "it stands out in bold relief, clearly defined before my eyes, and I will leave no effort untried to accomplish it. I have made up my mind to labor, self-denial, and fatigue; and if I do not succeed, it shall not be for lack of determined and continuous effort." Such is his resolution, and his practice fulfils it. He is always at work. You know where to find him, and how he will be employed. He is the very ’description of diligence’. Labor is pleasure. No difficulties deter him, no disappointments dishearten him. The ignorant do not understand him, the indolent pity him—but the intelligent admire him. There is something in his earnestness, which is commanding, attractive, and inspiring, especially when the object of it is worthy.

Apply this to the ministry; there are two means by which this accomplishes its end, preaching and the pastorate. In reference to PREACHING, I advert first to the substance of our teaching. And this must consist of course of those topics which bear most obviously and directly upon the great ends we are seeking to accomplish. Earnestness will take the nearest and most direct road to its object; nor will it be seduced from its path by beautiful prospects and pleasant walks, which lie in another direction. "I want to reach that point, and I cannot allow myself to be attracted by scenes, which however agreeable and interesting to others, would, if I stayed or turned to contemplate them—only hinder me in my business." Such is the language of one intent upon success in any particular scheme. Now what is the end of our pastoral office? The reconciliation of sinners to God, and their ultimate and complete salvation, when so reconciled. It is easy then to see that the substance of our instruction and persuasion must be the ministry of reconciliation. Of course it must be our purpose to declare the whole counsel of God, and to remember "that all Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness; that the man of God may be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works." In the way of exposition, a minister should go through the greater part of the whole Bible, fairly and honestly explaining and enforcing it. But since the whole Bible, as explained by the more perfect revelation of the New Testament, directly or indirectly points to Christ, or may be illustrated and enjoined by considerations suggested by his mission and work, our preaching should have a decidedly evangelical character. The divinity, incarnation, and death of Christ; his atonement for sin; his resurrection, ascension, intercession, and mediatorial reign; his spiritual kingdom, and his second coming; the offices and work of the Holy Spirit in illuminating, regenerating, and sanctifying the human soul; the doctrine of justification by faith, and the new birth; the sovereignty of God in the dispensation of his saving gifts—these and their kindred and collateral topics should form the staple of our preaching and teaching.

It surely must be this which the apostle meant when he said, "I determined to know nothing among you, but Jesus Christ and him crucified." "The Jews require a sign, and the Greeks seek after wisdom—but we preach Christ crucified, to the Jews a stumbling block, and unto the Greeks foolishness; but unto those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God." If there be any meaning in language, this must imply that the apostle in his ministry dwelt chiefly upon the work of Christ. His epistles all sustain this view of his meaning. They are all full of this great subject. We may perhaps smile at the simple piety of the individual who was at the trouble of counting the number of times that the apostle Paul mentions the name of Jesus in his epistles; but at the same time, something is to be learned from the fact that he found it to reach between four and five hundred. This teaches us how thoroughly Christ-centered, how entirely imbued with evangelism, his mind and his writings were. His morality was as evangelical as his doctrine, for he enforced all the branches of moral and social obligation by motives drawn from the cross. His ethics were all baptized with the spirit of the gospel, so that the believer who has imbibed the spirit of his writings, will have his eye as constantly kept upon the crucified One, in the progress of his sanctification—just as the sinner’s eye is turned towards the same object, for his justification. This then was the earnestness of the apostle; one constant, uniform, and undeviating endeavor to save men’s souls by the truth as it is in Jesus. A question now arises whether it is the duty of modern preachers to adopt the same method, and whether, inasmuch as their ends are the same with those of the apostle, they are to seek them by the same means. One would suppose there can be no rational doubt of this. If the apostles were the inspired teachers of Christianity, and have given us in their writings a full exhibition of what Christianity really is; and if it is our business to explain and enforce their writings, it seems to follow, as a thing of course—that our teaching, as to the matter of our discourses, must resemble theirs. And will anyone pretend that this resemblance can be established, unless our preaching is richly and prevailingly Christ-centered? I am aware it is sometimes said that times have altered since the apostles’ days, that the state of the world is different from what it then was. But is not human nature in all its essential elements the same? Is it not the same in its moral aspect, impotency, and necessities? Does it not as much need, and as much depend upon, the gospel scheme now, as it did then? Is not the gospel as exquisitely and fully adapted to its miserable condition now as it was then? Can sin be pardoned in any other way than through the atonement of Christ; or the sinner be justified by any other means than faith in the Lord our Righteousness; or the depraved heart be renewed and sanctified by any other agency than that of the Holy Spirit? Are not all the motives supplied by evangelical doctrine as powerful and as efficacious now—as they were then? No alteration of the subjects of preaching then can be called for now, to meet the advancing state of society, since the gospel is intended and adapted to be God’s instrument for the salvation of man, in all ages of the world, in all countries, and in all states of society. The sinful moral epidemic of our nature is always and every where the same, in whatever various degrees of virulence it may exist; and the healing system of salvation by grace, through faith, is God’s own and unalterable specific remedy for the disease, in every age of time, in every country of the world, and in every state of society. Men may call in other physicians than Christ, and try other methods of cure, as they have done; but they will all fail, and leave the miserable patient hopeless and helpless, as regards any other means of health than that which the cross of Christ presents. I reject alike as delusive and fatal the ancient practice of conforming the evangelical scheme to systems of philosophy, and the modern notion of the progressive development of Christian doctrine by the church. To the men who would revive the former, I say, "Beware lest any man deceive you, through a vain and deceitful philosophy, after the tradition of men, after the rudiments of the world, and not after Christ!" To the latter I say, "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, and today, and forever. Be not carried away with diverse and strange doctrines; for it is a good thing that the heart be established with grace." It appears to me that something like the same attempts are being made in this day to corrupt the gospel by superstitious additions on the one hand, and by philosophic accommodations on the other, as were made in the early days of Christianity. Our danger lies in the latter.

It should never be forgotten that the time when the apostles discharged their ministry was only just after the Augustan era of the ancient world. Poetry had recently bestowed on the lettered world the works of Virgil and Horace. The light of philosophy, though waning, still shed its luster over Greece. The arts still exhibited their most splendid creations, though they had ceased to advance. It was at such a time, and amid such scenes, the gospel began its course. The voices of the apostles were listened to by sages who had basked in the sunshine of Athenian wisdom, and were reverberated in startling echo from temples and statues that had been shaken by the thunders of Cicero and Demosthenes; yet they conceded nothing to the demands of philosophy—but held forth the cross as the only object they felt they had a right to exhibit. They never once entertained the degrading notion that they must accommodate themselves to the philosophy or the taste of the age in which they lived, and the places where they ministered. It is true the philosophy of that day was a false one—but it was not known or acknowledged to be such at the time. It was admired as true, though like many systems that have succeeded it, it gave place to another, and was doomed, like some that now prevail, to wane before new and rising lights.

Whether the apostle addressed himself to the philosophers on Mars Hill, or to the barbarians on the island of Melita; whether he reasoned with the Jews in their synagogues, or with the Greeks in the school of Tyrannus, he had but one theme, and that was Christ, and him crucified. And what right, or what reason have we for deviating from this high and imperative example? Be it so, that we live in a literary, philosophic, and scientific age, what then? Is it an age that has outlived the need of the gospel for its salvation; or for the salvation of which anything else can suffice but the gospel? The supposition that something else than pure Christianity, as the theme of our pulpit ministrations, is requisite for such a period as this, or that it must be presented in a philosophic guise, appears to me a most perilous sentiment, as being a disparagement to the gospel itself, a daring assumption of wisdom superior to God’s, and containing the nucleus of infidelity. The gospel sustains the nature of a testimony which must be exhibited in its own peculiar and simple form; a testimony to certain unique and momentous facts which must be presented as they really are, without any attempt or wish to change their nature or alter their character, in order to bring them into nearer conformity to the systems of men. Let the taste be cultivated as it may by literature, or the mind be enlightened by science, or the reason be disciplined by philosophy—the heart is still deceitful and wicked, the conscience still burdened with guilt, and the whole soul in a state of alienation from God. The moral constitution is mortally diseased, and nothing but the gospel can convey God’s saving health, which is as much required for his spiritual restoration by the polished son of science, as by the savage of New Zealand, or the Hottentot of South Africa. All else is but pretense and worthlessness; and the man who would be successful in the salvation of souls must have a clear conviction and a deep impression of these facts. Philosophy must never be allowed to dilute the life-giving elixir of of the gospel, nor to evaporate it into the clouds of philosophy. "Don’t let anyone lead you astray with empty philosophy and high-sounding nonsense that come from human thinking and from the evil powers of this world, and not from Christ." Colossians 2:8 But perhaps the danger to which the evangelical ministry of the present age is exposed, is not so much a philosophizing spirit, or an attempt to make the gospel conform to any current theory, as an effort to attain to a high intellectuality in setting forth received truths. We hear a great deal about this in modern times. It is become a kind of cant term, (for there is high as well as low cant,) to speak of some men as very intellectual preachers. If by an intellectual preacher be meant a man who applies the acquirements of a well furnished and well trained understanding to explain and enforce the great topics of evangelical truth; or the application in the most attractive form to the great end of the Christian ministry, of whatever knowledge such a mind can obtain in its pursuit of all kinds of information; or the employment of sound logic and natural eloquence to make the doctrines which are unto salvation bear upon men’s hearts and consciences—if this be meant, a man cannot be too intellectual, as the great and glorious doctrines of revealed truth deserve and demand the mightiest energies of the noblest intellects. But if, as is too generally the case, intellectuality means the cold, dry, argumentative discussion of philosophical subjects rather than of evangelical truths, or the discussion of such truths in an abstract and essay-like form; a mere heartless exercise of the reason of the preacher, intended and adapted only to engage the understanding of his hearers, without either interesting their affections or awakening their conscience; such intellectuality will do nothing but empty the places of worship in which it is exhibited, or at best draw together a congregation of people, who, though they cannot as yet bring themselves to do without some kind of religion, yet prefer the cold abstractions of the head, to the warm affections of the heart. Such hearers assemble to listen to a philosophical lecturer on spiritual subjects, and not to a publisher of glad tidings to sinners.

Here I would not be misconstrued to mean that every sermon must be on strictly evangelical themes; but that these must be the prevailing topics of the man who is in earnest for the salvation of souls. Nor would I go so far as to say that each sermon must contain as much of the gospel as would make every hearer of it acquainted with the way of salvation, even if he never should listen to another discourse. There is such a thing as treating these subjects so carelessly, so familiarly, and so frequently, as to deprive them of all their power to interest and impress. A man whose soul is possessed with the passion for doing good, will make almost any and every topic connected with the gospel tend to usefulness. Subjects, which in other hands would be dry and uninteresting, will in his be invested with the glow and warmth which live in his own soul, and which he imparts to everything he touches. His heart beats with an action so strong, steady, and healthful, that his fervid and holy intellect circulates an evangelical vitality through what in others would be a cold and torpid frame of mind, and thus causes the principle of gospel life to reach to the very extremities of the system of general truth.

Still even he, though he dwells occasionally on every topic which can with propriety be brought into the pulpit, will like the apostle, "glory only in the cross of Christ." Resisting the temptations to neglect the plain gospel, and to go in quest of airy speculations and unprofitable novelties, his aim will not be to gratify the imaginative by what is tasteful and poetic; nor the learned by what is profound; nor the philosophical by what is subtle; nor the curious by what is strange—but by manifestation of the truth, to commend himself to every man’s conscience in the sight of God. Alas, that any preacher of the gospel should take any other aim, and seek any other object, than this! Do we want subjects for eloquence, where can we find them in such abundance, grandeur, and sublimity, as in the gospel theme? The cross is a fount of the purest, most impassioned and most touching eloquence in the world, from which genius may be ever drawing, without fear of exhausting it. Compare the most finished orations of Massillon, Bossuet, or Bourdaloue, with McLaurin’s discourse on "Glorying in the Cross"—and though they are more perfect as models of composition, and more decorated by the artifices and graces of rhetoric, yet how far below that incomparable sermon in the sublimity of its theme, and the grandeur of its evangelical eloquence, are those boasted masterpieces of the French pulpit!

"My dear brethren, why are we not more impressive? Theology affords the best field for tender, solemn and sublime eloquence. The most solemn objects are presented; the most important interests are discussed; the most tender motives are urged. God and angels; the treason of Satan; the creation, ruin and recovery of a world; the incarnation, death, resurrection, and reign of the Son of God; the day of judgment; a burning universe; an eternity; a heaven and a hell—all pass before the eye! What are the petty dissensions of the states of Greece? What are the plots and victories of Rome—compared with this? If ministers were sufficiently qualified by education, study and the Holy Spirit; if they felt their subject as much as Demosthenes and Cicero did, they would be the most eloquent men on earth, and would be so esteemed wherever congenial minds were found." (Griffin’s Sermon on the Are of Preaching) To know what themes have the greatest potency over the public mind, and should form the subject of an earnest ministry, we have only to consult the pages of ecclesiastical history. It is unnecessary to dwell again upon the matter of apostolic preaching. It was by the purest evangelism that Christianity was planted in the earth, and it was when this gave place to ’a religion of forms and ceremonies’ that the power and vitality of true godliness declined, and a mass of vile corruption grew up, in the dark shadow of which the man of sin erected his throne, and the Papacy commenced its bloody reign. During the long night of the middle ages the sound of the faithful preacher was not heard, and the voice of Zion’s watchman was silent, except in a few obscure nooks and corners of the earth; but wherever it was then heard, the same effects followed. It was this subject with which Claude of Turin, when nearly all the world was wandering after the beast, awakened in the ninth century the inhabitants of Piedmont, and commenced that glorious work which was more or less carried on for centuries, amid the seclusion of Alpine rocks and vallies; and which the concentrated power and fury of the Papacy could never entirely subvert. It was this evangelism which our Wickliff preached in England in the fifteenth century, and by it kindled a fire, amid the smouldering ashes of which lay concealed embers which were again to ignite when fanned by the breath of other reformers, a century afterwards. By what means did Luther achieve his immortal triumph over the powers of the Vatican, and strike off the fetters which had enslaved the judgment, heart, and conscience of man? By the potency of what theme did he lift up into freedom and dignity the prostrate intellect of the human race? What was the instrument with which he struck the empire of darkness, and inflicted a blow which resounded through Christendom? the great evangelical doctrine of justification by faith. By what means did Whitefield and Wesley rouse the slumbering piety of our nation, and call up a theme which is going on from strength to strength to this day? By the evangelical system of Divine truth. What called forth the missionary enterprise, and constructed all that moral machinery which is at work to effect the world’s conversion? Before what system of truths have the inhabitants of Polynesia and New Zealand surrendered their licentious habits and bloody rites; and the Hottentots and Eskimos dropped their barbarism, and risen up in the form and manners of civilized men? What is the doctrine by which our missionaries are taking possession of India and China? I answer in each case, the doctrine of the cross!

It is then a fact attested by authentic history, and uncontradicted by anyone acquainted either with the present or the past, that all the great moral revolutions of our world, since the Christian era, have been effected by one simple process, by one set of means, and by one grand truth—and that process is preaching, those means are earnest men, and that truth is the gospel of the grace of God. Providential events may have prepared the way, by leveling mountains, and filling up vallies, and making smooth the course of the herald of the cross; but it is that herald’s mighty voice proclaiming, "Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world!" which by the power of God’s Spirit has changed the moral aspect of our dark and dreary world. This has not been done by learning, science, or philosophy; it is not the result of profound speculations on any theory of morals, or of fine processes of reasoning, or of splendid creations of poetic genius, or of the subtleties of philosophical discussion. No! but of the simple testimony of the gospel. While the philosopher has been theorizing in his closet, and the statistical philanthropist has been carrying on his calculations in his study, the preacher has gone forth into the midst of the people—ignorant, wicked, and wretched, as they were—has lifted up the great truth of the loving God, the dying Savior, and the regenerating Spirit, and has by these means, as an instrument of God, changed the aspect of society, and revolutionized the moral habits of nations.

Strange that with the knowledge of these facts, any of our preachers should think of replacing the glorious truths which have wrought such wonders in the world, by any other themes; or should act as if weapons that have proved their adaptation and their power, should now be wielded with a doubtful mind and with a hesitating and wavering hand! If we would know how we are to convert souls to God, we have only to ask how has God converted them. Nor is it necessary to go back to past ages, or abroad to other countries. Let us only look round upon our own country; let us go to our largest congregations and our most numerous churches, and ask what kind of preaching has done all we see—what doctrine, and how handled, has drawn those multitudes together; what magnet has put forth its attractions there? The secret will be soon discovered, and it will be found that there is an exemplification of our Lord Jesus Christ’s words, "And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me."

Go into other places where ’religious intellectuality’ is substituted for the vital truths of the gospel, where philosophical abstractions take the place of popular addresses on great fundamental doctrines, and cold, logical essays are read, instead of heart-stirring sermons being preached; and the attenuated and still declining congregations will proclaim the lack of adaptation in the pulpit ministrations, and prove that for the popular mind there can be no substitute for the cross of Christ. Nor does this apply exclusively to the uneducated or partially educated classes. Human nature in all its prevailing features, tastes, necessities, and enjoyments, is the same in the king and in the peasant; in the savage and the sage. All men are susceptible of emotion, as well as capable of reasoning; and all men love to feel, as well as to think. A commercial or professional man, who has been at work all the week, having had his mind strained with hard thinking, as well as his body by hard labor, when he takes his seat in his pew on a Sabbath morning, wants something for his heart, as well as for his head. With a sermon, however intellectual it may be, which has nothing that comes home to his affections, and causes him to feel, he is sure to be disappointed and dissatisfied. A dry essay on some gospel subject which only proves a point he never doubted, or starts a difficulty he never dreamt of—is like giving him a stone when he asks for bread. He wants to be made to feel and to realize that there is something higher and better than this world. He desires to enjoy the luxury of hallowed emotion, he covets the joy and peace of believing, and the anticipations of that world where the weary are at rest, and the din of business will be forever hushed. That man, tired and jaded by the cares, anxieties, and toils of six days—wants to lie down and take repose on the soft green grass of evangelical truth, and not on the hard rocks of abstract speculation. It is true that being a man of education and reading, his heart must be reached through his intellect, and he must be fed with the substantial bread of evangelical truth, which, though his taste is healthful, must not be coarse and chaffy; must not only be made of the finest wheat—but it must also be well prepared, mixed and made by a skillful hand.

It is however said that though the same gospel is to be preached, and the matter of sermons is in substance to be ever the same, in all the varying states of society, yet that the mode of exhibiting the gospel is to be accommodated to the circumstances of the age, and that a different mode of presenting the truth must be adopted in an age of advancing knowledge, to what is pursued in one of less refined and cultivated habits. If by this be meant that there must be more vigorous thinking, more profound analysis, more accurate criticism, more varied illustration from the fields of science, more pains to show the harmony of sound theology with sound philosophy—then it may and must be admitted, that the mode of preaching should be adapted to the circumstances of an advancing age. But even with this admission, it must still be remembered that the essential nature of the gospel, as a testimony from God, to be received on the ground of its own evidence and authority, must not be altered; nor any attempts made to shift the obligation to receive it from this ground to its apparent reasonableness or conformity with the principles of any system of human philosophy. Nor must this ’adaptation to the circumstances of the age’ be carried so far either in the way of logic, criticism, or illustration, as to obscure the light, or corrupt the simplicity, of the evangelical system. The substitution of a dry, abstract, and philosophical mode of preaching the gospel—for a lively, forcible, and heart-affecting, conscience-rousing method—so far from being adapted to this age of excitement, is quite opposed to it. This is a busy, active, glowing period of time’s history, as well as a thinking one. The heart is yearning, as well as the intellect. The abstractions of the intellect are dealt with now in such a manner as to kindle the affections to a blaze, and no method of exhibiting the gospel can be successful, if not adapted to produce this result. If flimsy thought, thread-bare common-places, will not do; so neither will mere airy speculation, hard logic, cold learning, or mere philosophy. It must be the gospel, preached with manly, vigorous thinking—in plain English words, and with classic simplicity and perspicuity of style.

I am somewhat hesitant about this idea of accommodating our method of preaching to the taste and circumstances of the age, until the meaning of the expression be accurately settled and thoroughly understood. Without great care, the spirit of accommodation and the attempt at adaptation will go on from manner to matter, and even our creeds will be somewhat curtailed and altered, to establish a harmony between our theology and our philosophy. Already the process has begun, and the neology of Germany, like a beacon gleaming upon us from its dreadful rock, should warn us of the danger we are in on such a coast, of making shipwreck of our faith.

Perhaps the best mode of making this subject understood, and showing to what extent this adaptation may be carried, would be to select and compare the sermons of two different periods of the history of the pulpit. Take, then, for example, a sermon of Dr. Owen, or Dr. Manton, with all its numberless divisions and sub-divisions, quaint phraseology, and violations of taste, and put it by the side of a sermon by Dr. Chalmers, Mr. Bradley, or Dr. Wardlaw; and by the comparison you will see that the power of adaptation has increased in the moderns, and that they exhibit the same glorious verities as their predecessors—with improvements of style and arrangement.

Before I pass from this part of the subject, it may be proper to remark that perhaps there are few expressions more misunderstood, and with respect to which more mistakes have been made, than "preaching the gospel." Many by the use of this phrase aim to exclude from the pulpit almost every topic but a perpetual and almost unvarying exhibition of the death of our Lord, and consider this, and this only, as specifically preaching Christ. But it is strangely forgotten by the preachers of this school, that as the scheme of mediation by the Savior is founded on the eternal obligation and immutable nature of the law of God, and was intended not to subvert—but to uphold, its authority; the moral law must be explained and enforced in all its purity, spirituality, and extent. Repentance towards God is no less included in the apostolic ministry, than faith in our Lord Jesus Christ; and a sinner cannot repent of his transgressions against the law, which he has violated, if he knows it not—for "sin is the transgression of the law," and "by the law is the knowledge of sin." No man can know sin without knowing the law—and herein appears to me one of the prevailing defects of modern preaching—I mean the neglect of holding up this perfect mirror, in which the sinner shall see reflected his own moral image. It is true that some are melted down at once into a sense of wickedness, and brought to the exercise of both repentance and faith, by an exhibition of divine love in the death of Christ; but this is not so usual a method of conversion as the first awakening of the sinner by an exposition and application of the perfect law.

Dwight says, "Few, very few, are ever awakened or convinced by the encouragements and promises of the gospel; but almost all by the denunciation of the law. The blessings of immortality, the glories of heaven, are usually, to say the least, preached with little efficacy to an assembly of sinners. I have been surprised to see how dull, inattentive, and sleepy, such an assembly has been, amid the strongest representations of these divine subjects, combining the most vivid images with a vigorous style and an impressive elocution." This is a strong testimony, and it is perhaps a little overstated. Still I am persuaded there is much truth in it, for it seems to stand to reason, that men will care little about pardon, until they are convinced of sin; and as the apostle says, it is by the law that they come to the knowledge of sin. In this particular there appears to me a greater adaptation to the work of conviction in American preaching than in the British pulpit—it has more of this exposition of the law, and of the application of it to the sinner’s conscience; more that is calculated to make him feel at once his obligations and his guilt; more of that which silences his excuses, unravels the deceitfulness of his heart, strips him of self-righteousness, makes him thoroughly acquainted with himself, and his intense need of a Savior—in short, more of what the apostle calls commending himself to every man’s conscience in the sight of God; though it has, however, I think a lack of evangelical fullness and tenderness.

I remember a discussion by a large company of ministers in my vestry, on one occasion, as to the style of preaching which in their own experience they had found most useful; and it was pretty generally admitted, (and some of them had been among our most successful preachers,) that sermons on alarming and impressive texts had been most blessed in producing conviction of sin, and the first concern about salvation. At the same time it must be recollected that though descriptions of sin may affect, the exhibition of its consequences may affright, vehement censures of it may alarm, and reasoning concerning it may open the gloomy road to despair, these methods alone will not convert. Law without the gospel will harden, as the gospel without the law will only lead to carelessness and presumption. It is the union of both that will possess the sinner with loathing of himself, and love to God.

Still our danger in this age lies not so much in neglecting the gospel, as in omitting to associate with it the preaching of the law. It is worthy of remark, that Jesus Christ, who was incarnate love itself, the living gospel, yes the way, the truth, the life—was the most alarming preacher that was ever in our world. It is, however, incumbent upon us not to mistake severity for fidelity; nor harshness for earnestness. The remarks of Mr. Hall on this, are as correct as they are beautiful— "A harsh and unfeeling manner of denouncing the threatenings of the Word of God, is not only barbarous and inhuman—but calculated, by inspiring disgust, to rob them of all their efficiency. If the dreadful part of our message, which may be styled the burden of the Lord, ever falls with due weight upon our hearers—it will be when it is delivered with a trembling hand and faltering lips." The look, the tone, the action, when such subjects are discussed, should be a mixture of solemnity and affection; the sobriety of love. To hear such topics dwelt upon in strong language, vehement action, and boisterous tones—strikes me as being an utter violation of all propriety, and is likely to excite horror and revulsion in every hearer of the least discernment. Real earnestness is the result of deep emotion; and the emotion excited by the sight of a fellow-creature perishing in his sins, is that of the tenderest commiseration—which will express itself not in stormy declamation and thundering denunciations—but in solemnly chastened admonition and appeal.