of that river of death that flows downward! It is not merely from the aggregate of the preacher's life: it is also from one sermon alone, or even from one sentence, that a hearer may start in his course of desperation, and go on diverging further and further from the line of hope. A single unguarded expression has gone from the pulpit, and eased a conscience that had for days been extorting the complaint,." O, wretched man that I am"! A rough remark on the perdition of infants has been known so to shock a hearer, as to make him leave the house of God, and never listen again to an evangelical ministry. A morose appellative on the doctrine of eternal punishment was referred to by an enemy of that doctrine, as the first thing that inflamed his mind against it, and induced him to become a minister of false tidings, proclaiming peace to large assemblies for whom there was no peace, said the Lord. "Though the number of the children of Israel be as the sand of the sea, a remnant shall be saved;" this was one of the first texts from which Mr. Murray discoursed on his first visit to Boston. “If one should buy a rich cloth, and make it into a garment, and then burn the garment, but save the remnant, what must be thought of him;" this was one of his first sentences. Homely and clumsy as was the argument, it had a strange and sad effect upon a young man of enterprise who heard it; he carried it to his home in one of our inland towns, and made it the means of awakening a curiosity and a prejudice, that terminated in the defection of a large neighborhood from the faith once delivered to the saints. From that neighborhood have gone several lettered men, who have blended the fascinations of learning with the ungainly creed of their childhood; and may it not be a rational fear, that many congregations will be seduced into a ruinous neglect of religion by a train of influences that started from the one witless illustration of John Murray? And well would it be if all the evil that flows from the pulpit were the emanation of an unsanctified ministry. Does not much of it come from the imperfect addresses of even pious divines; from their bad utterance, that gives an unkind meaning to goodly words; from their style of composition, that makes a hearer turn away the richest truth coming in such repulsive attire; from their want of forethought and skill; from an undue neglect of prayer and study; from clouded views, low purposes, little faith, obtuse feeling? And, moreover, must it not deepen our sense of the preacher's critical situation to reflect, that he often does not foresee the results of his language? He does good without knowing it, and evil also. A sentence that hastily escapes him, has performed its work as hastily, and has wrought a mischief which a century's discoursing will never repair. God has concealed from us the day of our death, so that every day may be the pivot on which our eternity is seen to depend, There is an apparent indefiniteness and obscurity flung over the works and ways of Jehovah, and therefore the seriousness which might other wise be confined to a single point, is now diffused through a whole exist

ence. If the preacher could always determine the moment when his auditory would be most impressible, he might set a double guard upon that moment. If he knew exactly what discourse or what paragraph would happen to seize the peculiar attention of an inquirer or caviler, a bright child, or an inquisitive student, he might lay out his great strength on a few sentences, and feel somewhat secure. He can indeed foresee that some parts of his ministration will require more skill than others; but he will often find a surprising efficacy where he looked for nothing. A discourse of Payson, which he thought little of, and wrote almost entirely at a sitting, was one of the most effective that he ever preached. “I could not but wonder," he says, "to see God work by it." So, too, the sentence which the preacher utters, without even a thought of its power, excites a prejudice or foments an evil passion, from the effects of which the mind will never be restored. The word fell almost unbidden from the pulpit, and it was perverted to the eternal sorrow of one who listened to little beside that word. The critical and momentous character of the preacher's work is therefore spread out over all its parts, even the most minute. He sometimes labors on his arguments, and has no fear for his illustrations; but his illustrations are misunderstood, and more than undo the effect of his reasoning. He neglects to prove his doctrine, and many, from that accident, infer that the doctrine is false. He fails to apply it, and thereby satisfies some with a dead faith. When he raises his hand to enforce a saying, he is like the man of old who drew a bow at a venture, and knew not whom or what he should smite. We have read of navigators, whose hair turned from black to gray while they were steering their bark through a dangerous pass, and feeling that a movement of the helm, even for a single inch, would be for the crew's life or death. But when immortal interests are suspended upon one felicitous or inapposite word from the pulpit, can we be surprised-how can we be surprised—at the remarks of Martin Luther: "I am now an old man, and have been a long time employed in the business of preaching; but I never ascend the pulpit without trembling."

The influence of a preacher may be still further illustrated by the fact, that it becomes the greater and the better, as he becomes the more able and more faithful. If a sermon be grand in its theme, and good in its influence, then the more carefully the theme is studied, so much the more important will be the sermon; the more skillfully the preacher adapts his style to the nature of man, so much the more exuberant is the fruit he may anticipate. True, he is only an instrument, and God is a sovereign and may bless the feeblest agency rather than the strongest. God may do so, but commonly does not. If he require means, he thereby requires the best means. If he approve of preaching, then he gives most of his approval to the best, most real preaching. It is generally his sovereign purpose to honor with the greatest success such instruments as are, in

themselves, most wisely fitted to secure the end which he secures by them. He rules the wind and the tide as he pleases; and yet the most cunning mariner will so adjust the sails, and prow, and helm, as to receive the largest share of the blessings coming from absolute sovereignty. The man who is wise in winning souls to Christ will find ou what are the laws according to which the decrees of heaven are fulfilled among hearers of the word, and he will strive to shape his discourses so as to meet these laws. And he is the best husbandman in the moral vineyard, who studies most faithfully the nature of the soil and the qualities of the seed, who plants and waters at the hour and in the way which the soundest discretion advises, and moreover is sending up the devoutest and most persevering prayers to heaven, whence alone cometh increase. But what manner of man must he be who is making these intricate observations, and toiling for a perfect conformity to the laws of God's highest workmanship! What agonizing of the inner spirit. must he often endure, when selecting and aiming the dart which may save or destroy a hearer dear to him as an own son! If a Christian is the highest style of man, what must a preacher be? If an undevout astronomer is mad, what shall we say of an undevout pastor and bishop? If any man should be one of various learning and severe, protracted study, of generous impulses and painful watchings, of intense longing after improvement, and of daily progress in mental and moral culture, what must be the character and purposes of the consecrated man who stands between the great God and a hostile congregation—who knows that at every opening of his mouth he may so affect his hearers as to make them gems in the crown of his rejoicing, or make himself responsible for their ruin? The homely words that Philip Henry wrote on the day of his ordination over a small people, express the feelings of every true preacher: "I did this day receive as much honor and work, as ever I shall be able to know what to do with. Lord Jesus! proportion sup plies accordingly." In his "Dying Thoughts," Richard Baxter affirms: "For forty years I have no reason to think that I ever labored in vain." He had toiled in season and out of season, in the study, and in the conference of the learned. During his life he published a hundred and sixty-eight volumes, all of them displaying acumen and an amount of erudition that surprises us; yet, in the conclusion of the whole matter, he thus avows his preference for the preacher's duties above those of the philosopher even: "I have looked over Hutton, Vives, Erasmus, Scaliger, Salmasius, Casaubon, and many other critical grammarians, and all Gruter's critical volumes. I have read almost all the physics and metavhysics I could hear of. I have wasted much of my time among loads of historians, chronologers, and antiquaries. I despise none of their learning; all truth is useful. Mathematics, which I have least of, I find a pretty manlike sport. But if I have no other knowledge than these, what were my understanding worth? What a dreaming dotard should

I be? I have higher thoughts o ne schoolmen than Erasmus and our other grammarians had. I much value the method and sobriety of Aquinas, the subtlety of Occam, the plainness of Durandus, the solidity of Arimiensis, the profundity of Bradwardine, the excellent acuteness of many of their followers; of Aureolus, Capreolus, Bannes, Alvarez, Zumel, etc.; of Mayro, Lychetus, Trombeta, Faber, Meurisse, Rada, etc.; of Ruiz, Pennates, Saurez, Vasquez, etc.; of Hurtado, of Albertinus, of Lud á Dola, and many others. But how loath should I be to take such sauce for my food, and such recreations for my business. The jingling of too much and false philosophy among thein often drowns the noise of Aaron's bells. I feel myself much better in Herbert's temple."

It was with a desire of contributing somewhat to perpetuate this enthusiasm of Baxter in the sacred profession that the writer of this essay formed a plan, many years ago, of publishing in a connected form the most noteworthy sermons of the most exemplary preachers. The tendency of such sermons is to stimulate and strengthen wise men. This plan, however, he cheerfully resigned as soon as he learned that a similar enterprise had been commenced by the author of a premium essay, * which was itself a guaranty that the enterprise would be prosecuted with a good aim and a sound judgment. That author has already paid “a debt to his profession," and has put the clerical profession under a debt to him, by the publication of two massive volumes, containing many eminent sermons of deceased divines, and excellent models of Christian eloquence. To those inspiriting volumes the present work is a fit appendage, and it needs no higher praise. This volume gives us an enlivening view of ministers who are now on earth, as the previous volumes refreshed us with the words of men who are now in heaven. It affords a cheering proof that amid all the mutations of style, there is one spirit pervading the discourses of evangelical divines in all lands, and this is the spirit which has permeated them in all ages. The honored names of many whose discourses enrich the present volume convince us that some of the criticisms which the high priests of letters have pronounced upon modern clergymen, are too sweeping and indiscriminate. " Malignity itself," says an Edinburg Reviewer, "can not accuse our pulpits and theological presses of beguiling us by the witchcraft of genius. They stand clear of the guilt of ministering to the disordered heart the anodynes of wit or fancy. Abstruse and profound sophistries are not in the number of their offenses. It is mere calumny to accuse them of lulling the conscience to repose by any syren songs of imagination. If the bolts of inspired truth are diverted from their aim, it is no longer by * "Primitive Piety Revived, or the Aggressive Power of the Christian Church. ▲ Premium Essay." From the Press of the Congregational Board of Publication, Boston.

"History and Repository of Pulpit Eloquence, containing the Master-pieces" of de ceased divines, in all ages and lands. From the Press of M. W. Dodd, New York.

enticing words of man's wisdom. Divinity fills up her weekly hour by the grave and gentle excitement of an orthodox discourse, or by toiling through her narrow round of systematic dogmas, or by creeping along some low level of school-boy morality, or by addressing the initiated in mythic phraseology; but she has ceased to employ lips such as those of Chrysostom and Bourdaloue. The sanctity of sacred things is lost in the familiar routine of sacred words. Religion has acquired a technology, and a set of conventional formulas, torpifying those who use and those who hear them." In the present age there are many preachers, as this volume warrants us in believing, who rise, and are raising others, far above the standard which hostile critics have imputed to us.

A standard so low could have been tolerated in times gone by, less unwisely than it can be endured in our times. It can be allowed in other lands with less peril than in our own land. With us the high character of our clergy is our "national establishment." Now, and here, we can not maintain the authority of religious truth, unless it be preached by men to whom all others shall have reason to look up. The sermons that were "delivered at Golden Grove to the family and domestics of Lord Carberry, or, at most, to a few gentlemen and ladies of that secluded neighborhood, and to as many of the peasantry of the estate as could understand English"* should be surpassed in excellence by the sermons delivered before a thinking, an inquisitive, a reading, a free people, who have, and who know that they have, much of the civil and ecclesiastical power in their own hands, and who require of their preacher more acu men, more learning, more of moral excellence than has been demanded in other lands and times and churches. Our Sabbath-schools, and Bibleclasses, our popular commentaries, our cheap books, our lyceums, yea, and even our railroads, make it needful for the minister to push his in vestigations over and far beyond the line to which his predecessors advanced, distant as that line may be, and to search for wisdom among treasures yet hidden. For all this expense of energy, his pecuniary emolument is but small; therefore must he be a man of generous philanthropy. He must undertake his labor for the love of it, and the love of its good results. In the best sense of the term, he must be a great man, for self-denial in the service of mankind is true greatness. Let him be animated in his high calling by a faith that the All-wise Mind who instituted the clerical office, and without whose interposing influence the efforts of the wisest men are "foolishness," will not disown the service which he has appointed, nor forget the instrument which he has devised, but will so regulate the influences of the world as to make his earnest ministers speak long after they are dead.

* See Heber's Life of Jeremy Taylor, pp. 189, 190.

ANDOVER THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY May 5, 1857.