and the presence, of his Master; and his own duty, and accountableness. He ought to remember, that, if he deliver his message faithfully, he will be accepted; if not, he will be condemned. Nor ought he any more to forget, that, in the former case, he will in all probability promote the salvation of his flock; and, in the latter, conduct them only to destruction.

To faithfulness, boldness is indispensable. The fear of man always bringeth a snare. Equally dangerous is it to love the praise of men. Independence of both is absolutely necessary to integrity. No specimens of pungent, intrepid address to the consciences of men, or of undaunted reproof for their sins, are more vivid and glowing than those of our Saviour to the Jews, and especially to the Pharisees. Of Paul it is very frequently recorded, that he spake boldly in the name of the Lord Jesus. He also directs the Ephesians to pray always with all prayer, that he might speak boldly, as he ought to speak. Similar things are recorded of Barnabas and Apollos. The discourses of Paul, Peter, and Stephen, recorded in the Acts, are also illustrious specimens of this noble and upright independence of character. What Preacher will hesitate to obey such authority, and to follow such examples!

With his duty will ever be combined his immediate interest. In so solemn a case, as this, peace and self-approbation can never be possessed by him, who does not, without reserve or palliation, without fear or flattery, declare the truth, as it is in Jesus. At the same time, he will sink in the estimation of his flock. Every discerning man, nay, every man of common sense, will soon suspect both his integrity and his piety; and will regard him as a time-server, unfaithful to God, and interested only for himself. A Minister, labouring under these imputations, will neither be trusted, nor respected. Even those, who love the smooth things, which he utters, will despise him for uttering them.

The bold, independent, honest preacher will, on the contrary, be naturally and highly esteemed by his people; even by those, who smart under the censures, which he directs against their sins, and tremble at the alarm, which he sounds in their ears

concerning their future destiny. At the same time, he will enjoy the consolation of knowing, that he has faithfully laboured to discharge his duty; to promote the glory of his Maker, and the salvation of his flock, and to keep himself clear from the blood of all men. On a dying-bed he will be able to say, and find unspeakable hope in saying, with St. Paul, I have not shunned to declare the whole counsel of God, and have kept back nothing which was profitable to my people.

4. The Gospel ought to be preached Solemnly.

All things, pertaining to divine truth, are eminently solemn. Such are its Author, and its End; the manner, in which it is communicated; the miracles, with which it was ushered into the world; the Redeemer, by whom it was disclosed; and the wonderful expense, by which it came to mankind. Of the same nature are the subjects, about which it is employed. Nothing ever appeared to the human mind of such import, as the character and actions of God; the excellencies of the Redeemer; the amazing work of Redemption; the depravity, and condemnation, of men; the glorious exercise of mercy to our race; the renovation of the soul; the importance of life and death, of judgment and eternity, of Heaven and Hell.

In these things is involved our all. How, then, can a preacher, commissioned by God to declare them to his fellowmen, fail to realize their immense importance and amazing solemnity! How can he fail of declaring them with a corresponding solemnity to his flock!

"He that negotiates between God and man,

As God's ambassador, the grand concerns

Of judgment and of mercy, should beware

Of lightness in his speech. 'Tis pitiful

To court a grin, when you should woo a soul;
To break a jest, when pity would inspire
Pathetic exhortation; and t' address

The skittish fancy with facetious tales,

When sent with God's commission to the heart."

If the nature of these subjects be duly considered; if their

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importance be duly felt; it will be impossible for the preacher to fail of exhibiting them to his hearers with the deepest solemnity. Lightness of manner is always generated by lightness of mind. He, who adopts it in the Desk, has forgotten, that his discourse is professedly derived from the Bible, employed about God, and directed to Eternity.

A trespass against this manner of preaching, not unfrequent, and highly reprehensible, is a mode, sometimes termed theatrical. It may be thus described. The preacher, if we may be allowed to judge from the result, sits down to write as finished a composition, and enters the Desk to speak it as gracefully, as he can. His commanding object is to please, to excite admiration, and to gain applause. His proper business is forgotten. This is, to awaken, convince, and save, his flock. He has carved out for himself a new employment, of which the Scriptures know nothing. This is, to exhibit himself to advantage. Instead, therefore, of the plain, bold, and solemn address, with which divine truth is instinctively preached, the audience is amused with a combination of brilliant images, and pathetic effusions, intended merely to excite admiration. To increase this effect, they are presented to the audience with such efforts of utterance and gesture, as are usually exhibited on the stage. In truth, the desk is here changed, for the time, into a stage; and the Preacher, laying aside his own character, puts on that of an Actor. Like other actors, he intends merely to please those who hear him. Their souls and their salvation, his own character, duty, and final account, he has forgotten. He has forgotten his Bible; he has forgotten his God.

The most solemn, the best, sermons may be, they usually are, marked with strong images, bold figurative language, and affecting addresses to the heart. The whole energy of the mind is poured out in them by the preacher. But in such sermons all these things are adventitious. They grow spontaneously out of the solemn, and most affecting, nature of the subject, the preacher's deep sense of its vast importance, and his earnest desire that his audience may feel it, as it is felt by himself. Here the subject is the only thing, which is prominent. The

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preacher is, in a great measure, forgotten both by himself and his hearers. In the mode, which I have reprehended, the preacher is the only conspicuous figure; while the diminutive subject is faintly sketched, and scarcely seen, in the back ground of the picture.

5. The Gospel ought to be preached Earnestly.

Every thing, which is felt by the mind to be deeply interesting either to its own welfare, or to that of its fellow-men, is by the mere prompting of nature expressed with earnestness, both in writing and speaking. So universally true, and so obvious, is this, that he, who does not thus express himself in this manner, is never supposed to be interested at all. Accordingly, men, who wish to persuade others, that they feel, when they do not, are obliged to counterfeit this mode of nature, that they may thus be believed to feel. Hence all the assumed fervour of demagogues, separatical preachers, and others of a corresponding character.

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From this fact it is abundantly evident, that he, who would persuade others, that he is interested in the subjects, on which he descants, must originally feel them; and must also express his views of them in the native language of feeling. To a preacher, these rules are important in a degree, which it will be difficult to estimate. The observance of them is necessary to convince his hearers, that he is an honest man. The truths of the Gospel are of such moment, as to render it impossible for him, who cordially believes them, to avoid being deeply interested; and, if thus interested, very difficult to fail of discovering that interest by the earnestness of thought, and utterance, in which it is naturally expressed. But a preacher of the Gospel, unless he prove the fact to be otherwise, is originally supposed to be deeply interested in its truths; and is regularly considered as professing by his very office cordially to believe them. If, then, he brings them forth to his congregation in a combination of cold sentiments, lifeless phraseology, and languid elocution; it will not be easy for them to be satisfied, that he feels what he professes to feel, or believes what he professes to believe.

Should he, however, escape this imputation, and, by a life of exemplary piety and beneficence, prove himself to be a good man; a case which, I acknowledge, has frequently existed; his preaching will, to a great extent, be still unhappy. If from the force of a phlegmatic constitution, or a habit of moving heavily in the concerns of life, he should have derived a dull, drawling mode of thinking, writing, and speaking, he will spread a similar languor over his hearers; and lull their moral powers, if not their natural ones, to sleep. They may believe him to be sincere; but they will never feel as if he were in earnest. From such preaching, no energy of affection, no solemn concern, no active fears, no lively hopes, no vigorous resolutions, no strenuous efforts about the salvation of the soul, can be ordinarily derived; and, certainly, can never be rationally expected.

He, on the contrary, who exhibits the doctrines and precepts of the Gospel in an earnest, fervid manner, will instinctively be regarded as being really in earnest. Religion from his mouth will appear as a concern of high moment; a subject, in which every man is deeply interested, about which he is obliged to employ the most solemn thoughts, and the most efficacious exertions. All, who attend on his ministry, will go to inquire, to listen, to feel, to act, and to be fervently employed in practising their duty, and obtaining their salvation.

Let no young preacher think himself excused, for a moment, in neglecting to acquire such a manner of preaching. Every preacher is bound to use all the means in his power for the purpose of rousing the attention, and engaging the affections, of his flock to these mighty objects. Much more, at the same time, is in his power than he will easily believe. A too modest distrust of their own talents in this respect is. perhaps the chief reason why the eloquence of the desk is, in so many instances, less earnest, less animated, than a good man would always wish. All men will acknowledge this to be unhappy: often, there is reason to fear, it is criminal also. For he, who has not laboured as much, as is in his power, to preach well, in this respect, has certainly not laboured to preach as well as he

can.