8 Sermon Illustrations on Preparation

Many disappointments and failures are simply the results of superficial expectations of easy success without patient preparation of the needed preliminary conditions.

A famous English gardener once heard a nobleman say complainingly, “I can not have a rose garden, tho I often have tried, because the soil around my castle is too poor for roses.” “That is no reason at all,” replied the gardener. “You must go to work and make it better. Any ground can be made fit for roses if pains are taken to prepare it. The poorest soil can be made rich.” It was a wise saying, and it is true in other cases than rose gardens. Some young people say, “I can’t be cheerful,” or, “I can’t be sweet-tempered,” or “I can’t be forgiving,” as if they were not responsible for the growths in their soul-garden because the soil is poor. But “any ground can be made fit for roses,” and any heart can be made fit for the loveliest blossoms of character. (Text.)

Alonzo Cano, a Spanish sculptor, being employed by a lawyer of Grenada to make a statue of St. Antonio de Padua, and having mentioned how much it would cost, the lawyer began to reckon how many pistoles per day the artist had earned. “You have,” said he, “been five-and-twenty days carving this statue, and your exorbitant demand makes you charge the rate of four pistoles per day, while I, who am your superior in a profession, do not make half your profits by my talents.” “Wretch!” exclaimed the artist; “do you talk to me of your talents? I have been five-and-twenty years learning to make this statue in five-and-twenty days.” So saying, he dashed it on the pavement.--CROAKE JAMES, “Curiosities of Law and Lawyers.”

A life sketch of Richard Mansfield, the great actor, contains the following account of his first success on the stage:

A noted actor had been offered the part but shrank from it, and finally absolutely refused to take it. Mansfield saw its possibilities and was in a fever of eagerness to get it. In the distress and pressure of the situation the manager reluctantly gave it to him. Then the young man began to prepare for the part. He studied everything which would throw light on the character. He interviewed people, visited the haunts of such men as the character represented, and he rehearsed and rehearsed until his eyes gleamed and his whole being was on fire. When he came on the stage for his first act the people were indifferent, not even paying attention to the play, but talking and laughing. Soon a hush fell upon them. They were spellbound. When the curtain fell there was a roar of applause which shook the building, and at the close of the play the audience went out dazed. Richard Mansfield was never to go hungry again. At a bound he had leapt from the dust to the top of the ladder. It makes one’s heart leap just to read about it.

One year I invited the pastor of a great church in Cincinnati, and he came, and he spoke on Sunday morning. He pulled out a forty-page manuscript and stood there and read the gospel for a whole hour, and those good country people never saw it done before, and when they adjourned for dinner they got under the trees and talked about the proceedings. They said, “What do you think of that letter from Cincinnati?” And I never see a fellow pull his manuscript now that I don’t wonder where that letter is from.--“Popular Lectures of Sam P. Jones.”