The Nature of Earnestness

Perhaps there is scarcely one single phrase more frequently employed in the sphere of human activity, or better understood, than this — be in earnest. What distinctness of aim, what fixedness of purpose, what resoluteness of will, what diligence, patience, and perseverance of action, are implied or expressed in these three words. He who would stimulate indolence, quicken activity, and inspire hope; he who would breathe his own soul into the soul of another, and kindle the enthusiasm which glows in his own bosom, says to his fellow, “Be in earnest:” and that short sentence, uttered by his lips, has often been like a scintillation flying off from his own ardent soul, which, lighting upon the spirit of the individual whom he was anxious to move to some great enterprise, has kindled the flames of enthusiasm there also. And what else, or what less, does Jesus Christ say to every one whom he sends into the work of the Christian ministry than “Be in earnest?”

There is something in the aspect and power of earnestness, whatever be its object, that is impressive and commanding. To see a man selecting some one object oi% pursuit, and then yielding up his soul to the desire of its attainment, with a surrender which admits oi’ no reserve* a steadiness of aim which allows of no diversion, and a diligence which consents neither to rest nor intermission; which is so uppermost in his heart as to fill his conversation, and so entirely and constantly before his mind as to throw into its broad shadow every other subject of consideration; and which borrows from the intensity of his own feeling, a strange fascination to engage the feelings of others — such an instance of decision, amounting to a ruling passion, exerts over us, while witnessing it, an influence which we feel to be contagious. We involuntarily, to a certain extent, sympathize with the individual who is thus carried away by his own fervor; and if at the same time all this be an earnestness for promoting our own interests, its effect is absolutely irresistible. That man must be a stone,, and destitute of the ordinary feelings of humanity, who can see another interested, active, and zealous for his welfare, while he himself remains inert and indifferent. Even the apathetic and indolent have sometimes been kindled into ardor, and led to make efforts for themselves, by the solicitude which others have manifested for their welfare.

How strictly does this apply to the ministry of the “Word, which relates to the most momentous matters that can engage the attention of the human understanding. Sympathy is a law of our mental economy which has never been sufficiently taken into the account in estimating the influences which God employs for the salvation of men. There is a silent and almost unperceived process of thought often going on in the mind of those who are listening to the sermons of a preacher really laboring for the conversion of souls, of this kind:” Is he so earnest about my salvation, and shall I care nothing about the matter? Is my eternal happiness so much in his account, and shall it

NATURE OF EARNESTNESS, ii)

be nothing in mine? I can meet cold logic with counter-arguments, or at any rate, I can raise up difficulties against evidence. I can smile at the artifices of rhetoric, and be pleased with the displays of eloquence. I can sit unmoved under sermons which seem intended by the preacher to raise my estimate of himself, but I cannot stand this earnestness about me. The man is evidently intent upon saving my soul. I feel the grasp of his hand laying hold of my arm as if he would pluck me out of the fire. He has not only made me think, but he has made me feel. His earnestness has subdued me.”

But it will be necessary now to meet and answer the question, What is meant by an earnest ministry?

I remark, in the first place, that earnestness implies, The selection of some one object of pursuit, and a vivid perception of its value and importance. It is next to impossible for the mind to be intently employed, or the heart very deeply engaged, on a multiplicity of objects at once. We have not energy enough to be so divided and distributed. Our feelings, to run with force, must flow pretty much in one channel: the attention must be concentrated, the purpose settled, the action expended, upon one thing, or there can be no efficiency. The earnest man is a man of one idea, and that one idea occupies, possesses, and fills his soul. To every other claimant upon his time, and regard, and labor, he says, “Stand by; I am engaged, I cannot attend to you; there is something else waiting for me.” To that one thing he is committed. There may be many subordinate matters, amidst which he divides what may be called the surplus water, but the main current flows through one channel, and turns one great wheel. This “one thing I do,” is his plan and resolution. Many wonder at his choice, many condemn it: no matter, he understands it, approves it, and pursues it amidst the ignorance which cannot comprehend it, or the peculiarity of taste which cannot admire it. He is no double-minded man, unstable in all his ways, whose preference and purpose are shaken by every cross-current of opinion. It is nothing to him what others do, or what they say of his doing: he must do that, whatever else he leaves undone. No one can be in earnest who has not thus made up his mind, and he who has, and is resolutely bent upon it, keeps the object constantly before his mind; his attention is so strongly and tenaciously fixed upon it, that even at the greatest distance, “as the Egyptian pyramids to travellers, it appears to him with a luminous distinctness, as if it were nigh, and beguiles the toilsome length of labor and enterprise by which he must reach it.” It is so conspicuous before him that he does not deviate a step from the right direction, and every movement and every day is an approximation. Break in upon him at any moment, you know where you shall find him, and how employed.

There is the first part of the description of an earnest minister: he too has selected his object, and made up his mind concerning it, and insulating it from all others, sets it clearly and distinctly before his mind. And what is it? What should it be? Not science, nor literature, nor philosophy; not a life spent in the acquisition of knowledge, nor the gratification of taste; not the power of adding to the treasures of national elegance in the department of letters, nor to the ornaments which embellish our civilized existence, and give amenity to our social intercourse. The man who has entered the sacred office merely to luxuriate in the haunts of the muses, has mistaken his errand to the pulpit, and is no less guilty, though somewhat less sordid, than he that says, “Put me in the priest’s office that I may eat a morsel of bread.” That a minister may to a certain extent indulge a literary or scientific taste, and could even make it subservient to a higher and more sacred object, is admitted. The pulpit has done, and is doing, much service in all the departments of learning and philosophy. It is in Christian countries that the valuable remains of Eastern, Greek, and Roman wisdom and eloquence have been preserved, studied, imitated, and sometimes even excelled. Christian nations have conducted philosophical inquiries with the best success, and improved them for the most useful and benevolent purposes. “If these things are good and profitable unto society, a large portion of the honor of such usefulness belongs to men set for the defence of the gospel, desirous by sound reasoning to convince gainsayers, and conscious what arms human literature furnishes for this holy war. And then in addition to all this, consider the effect of the pulpit upon what might be called the popular mind. To thousands who have comparatively little leisure or opportunity to form their taste, and cultivate their rational powers, by conversation with the wise and enlightened, or by reading their works, a school is thus open, established indeed for higher purposes, where men of sound understandings, though low in rank, may, without expense, and almost without intending it, learn from example to distinguish or connect ideas, to infer one truth from another, to examine the force of an argument, and so to arrange and express their sentiments as deeply to impress themselves and others. As in a lew years the child gradually acquires the faculty of speaking his mother- tongue with a considerable degree of ease and fluency, without any formal lessons, merely by hearing it spoken, so there is a natural logic and rhetoric which some acquire without designing it, who go to church for nobler ends, whereby they are enabled to detect the cunning craftiness with which the enemies of religion or of public tranquillity lie in wait to deceive. Indeed, the culture of the talents and improvement of that respectable class of men who earn their bread by the sweat of their brow, generally rises or falls in proportion to the character and genius of their religious instructors.”

This is as true as it is beautiful, and should remind all ministers of the gospel of the necessity and importance, at all times, but especially in such times as these, of keeping in mind the collateral and secondary objects of pulpit instruction, and of preparing themselves for conducting it with power and efficiency. There is not a temporal interest of man as an individual, or of society, on which the sermons and general influence of the ministry may not be made to bear; but then it must never be forgotten that these things which have just been enumerated, are at best only the incidental, secondary, and collateral benefits of the ministry of the Word: they are among the many things that may be touched, but are not the one thing that must be grasped: they are, as I have already said, like the little lateral rills which may be led off from the main stream for the purpose of irrigation, but are not the great body of water that rolls onward in its channel for the purpose of commerce and national wealth.

Nor is it the great object of our ministry merely to preside with dignity over the solemnities of public worship; to content ourselves and please our people with preparing and delivering two well-studied discourses on the Sabbath; to keep all quiet and orderly in the church; to maintain a kind of religious respectability and intellectuality in the congregation; and to infuse into them much of the element of political power. The end and aim of the ministry are to be gathered from the apostle’s solemn and comprehensive language,” they watch for your souls as they that must give account.’7 There, in that short, but sublime and awful sentence, the end of the pastoral office is set before us. The design of the pulpit is in harmony with that of the cross; and the preacher is to carry out the design of the Saviour in coming to seek and to save that which was lost. Preaching and teaching are the very agency which Jesus Christ employs to save those souls for which he died upon Calvary. If souls are not saved, whatever other designs are accomplished, the great purpose of the ministry is defeated.

We are now prepared to understand what is the nature of real earnestness in a minister. I mean a distinct, explicit, practical recognition of his duty to labor for the salvation of souls as the end of his office. Such a man has settled with himself that this is his vocation and his business. He has looked at everything which could be presented to his mind, has weighed the claims of all, and with intelligence and firmness has said, and is prepared to stand by his affirmation, “I watch for souls.” He thus understands his errand; he is under no mistake, no uncertainty, no confusion. He has entered into fellowship with God the Father in his eternal purpose of the salvation of the human race; with the Son in the end of his incarnation and death; and with the Holy Spirit in his coming down upon our desolate world. Of this salvation, which is the object of his ministry, the prophets inquired; to accomplish it apostles preached, and angels ministered: and thus justified in his choice by the Triune God and the noblest of his creatures in the universe, he leaves far below him, in the aspirations and the soarings of his ambition, the scholar, the philosopher, and the poet. He has taken up an object in reference to which, if he succeed but in a single instance, he will have achieved a triumph which will endure infinite ages after the proudest monuments of human genius have perished like a garland in the conflagration of the world.

I have spoken of the salvation of souls as the great object of the ministerial office: this is a generic phrase, including as its species the awakening of the unconcerned; the guidance of the inquiring; the instruction of the uninformed; and the sanctification, comfort, and progress of those who through grace have believed — in short, the whole work of grace in the soul. But I now direct the attention of my readers to the first of these particulars as the most commanding object of ministerial solicitude, I mean the conversion of the unregenerate; and if without an offence of the law of modesty I may refer to my own history, labor, and success, I would observe that I began my ministry, even as a student, with a strong desire after this object: and long before this, while yet a youth engaged in secular concerns, I had been deeply susceptible of the power of an awakening style of preaching, which was strengthened by the perusal of the rousing sermons of Dr. Da vies,* of New Jersey. From that time to the present I have made the conversion of the impenitent the great end of my ministry, and I have had my reward. I have been sustained in this course by the remarks of Baxter in

* I wish these discourses were better known and more imitated by our young ministers. They are admirable specimens, formed upon the model of Baxter, of persuasive, hortatory, and impressive preaching. It is such preaching we want. In these striking discourses may be seen what I mean by earnest preaching. They are by no means scarce, and I would advise my younger brethren to buy and read them. The sermon on the resurrection is exceptionable.

his “Reformed Pastor,” a long extract from which I will now furnish.

“We must labor in a special manner for the conversion of the unconverted.

“The work of conversion is the great thing we must drive at; after this we must labor with all our might. Alas! the misery of the unconverted is so great that it calleth loudest to us for compassion. If a truly converted sinner do fall, it will be but into sin which will be pardoned, and he is not in that hazard of damnation by it as others are. Not but that God hateth their sins as well as others, or that he will bring them to heaven, let them live ever so wickedly; but the spirit that is within them will not suffer them to live wickedly, nor to sin as the ungodly do. But with the unconverted it is far otherwise. They ’ are in the gall of bitterness, and in the bond of iniquity, and have yet no part nor fellowship in the pardon of their sins, or the hope of glory. We have therefore a work of greater necessity to do for them, even “to open their eyes, and to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God; that they may receive forgiveness of sins, and an inheritance among them who are sanctified.’ He that seeth one man sick of a mortal disease, and another only pained with the tooth-ache, will be moved more to compassionate the former than the latter; and will surely make more haste to help him, though he were a stranger, and the other a brother or a son. It is so sad a case to see men in a state of damnation, wherein, if they should die, they are lost forever, that me thinks we should not be able to let them alone, either in public or private, whatever other work we have to do. I confess I am frequently forced to neglect that which should tend to the further increase of knowledge in the godly, because of the lament - able necessity of the unconverted. Who is able to talk of controversies or of nice, unnecessary points, or even of truths of a lower degree of necessity, how excellent soever, while he seeth a company of ignorant, carnal, miserable sinners before his eyes, who must be changed or damned? Methinks I even see them entering upon their final woe! Methinks I hear them crying out for help — for speediest help! Their misery speaks the louder, because they have not hearts to ask for help themselves. Many a time have I known that I had some hearers of higher fancies, that looked for rarities, and were addicted to despise the ministry, if I told them not something more than ordinary; and yet I could not find in my heart to turn from the necessities of the impenitent, for the humoring of them; nor even to leave speaking to miserable sinners for their salvation, in order to speak so much as should otherwise be done to weak saints, for their confirmation and increase in grace. Methinks as Paul’s ’ spirit was stirred within him,’ when he saw ‘the Athenians wholly given to idolatry,’ so it should cast us into one of his paroxysms, to see so many men in the greatest danger of being everlastingly undone. Methinks, if by faith we did indeed look upon them as within a step of hell, it would more effectually untie our tongues, than Crcesus’ danger did his son’s. He that will let a sinner go down to hell for want of speaking to him, doth set less by souls than did the Redeemer of souls; and less by his neighbor than common charity will allow him to do by his greatest enemy. 0 therefore, brethren, whomsoever you neglect, neglect not the most miserable! Whatever you pass over, forget not poor souls that are under the condemnation and curse of the law, and who may look every hour for the infernal execution, if a speedy change do not prevent it. 0 call after the impenitent, and ply this great work of converting souls, whatever else you leave undone.”

“These powerful and impressive observations,” says the editor of Baxter, “we cannot too earnestly recommend to the attention of ministers. We have no hesitation in saying that the most of preachers whom we have known, were essentially defective in the grand and primary object of the Christian ministry, — laboring for the conversion of souls. From the general strain of some men’s preaching, one would almost be ready to conclude that there were no sinners in their congregations to be converted. In determining the proportion of attention which a minister should pay to particular classes of his congregation, the number of each class, and the necessities of their case, are unquestionably the principal considerations which should weigh with him. Now in all our congregations we have reason to fear the unconverted constitute by far the majority; — their situation is peculiarly pitiable; their opportunities of salvation will soon be forever over; their danger is not only very great, but very imminent; they are not secure from everlasting misery, even for a single moment. Surely then the unconverted demand by far the largest share of the Christian minister’s attention, and yet from many they receive but a very small share of attention — their case, when noticed at all, is noticed only, as it were, by the bye. This no doubt is a principal cause that among us there are so few conversions by the preaching of the word, and especially in the congregations of particular ministers. We feel this subject to be of such transcendent importance that we trust we shall be excused for here introducing a quotation connected with it, from another work of our author, which has been introduced into the series of Select Christian Authors.’”

“It is not,” says lie, in his “Mischiefs of Self-Ignorance,”” a general dull discourse, or critical observations upon words, or the subtile decision of some nice and curious questions of the schools; nor is it a neat and well-composed speech, about some other distant matters, that is likely to acquaint a sinner with himself. How many sermons may we hear that are levelled at some mark or other which is very far from the hearers’ hearts, and therefore are never likely to convince them, or open and convert them? And if our congregations were in such a case as that they needed no closer quickening work, such preaching might be borne with and commended. But when so many usually sit before us that must shortly die, and yet are unprepared for death; and that are condemned by the law of God, and must be pardoned, or finally condemned; that must be saved from their sins that they may be saved from everlasting misery — I think it is time for us to talk to them of such things as most concern them, and that in such a manner as may most effectually convince, awaken, and change them.

“A man that is ready to be drowned is not at leisure for a song or a dance; and a man that is ready to be hanged, methinks should not find himself at leisure to hear a man show his wit and reading only, if not his folly and malice, against a life of holiness. Nor should you think that suitable to such men’s case that doth not evidently tend to save them. But, alas! how often have we heard such sermons as tend more to diversion than direction; to fill their minds with other matters, and find them something else to think of, lest they should study themselves, and know their misery! A preacher that seems to speak religiously, by a dry, sapless discourse, that is called a sermon, may more plausibly and easily ruin him. And his conscience will more quietly suffer him to be taken off the necessary care of his salvation, by something that is like it, and pretends to do the work as well, than by the grosser avocations or the scorn of fools. And he will be more tamely turned from religion by something that is called religion, and which he hopes may serve the turn, than by open wickedness, or impious defiance of God and reason. But how often do we hear sermons applauded, which force us, in compassion to men’s souls, to think, ‘Oh what is all this to the opening of a sinner’s heart unto himself, and showing him his unregenerate state? What is this to the conviction of a self-deluding soul, that is passing into hell, with the confident expectations of heaven? What is this to show men their undone condition, and the absolute necessity of Christ, and of renewing grace? What is in this to lead men up from earth to heaven, and to acquaint them with the unseen world, and to help them to the life of faith and love, and to the mortifying and pardon of their sins!’ How little skill have many miserable preachers in the searching of the heart, and helping men to know themselves, whether Christ be in them, or whether they be reprobates! And how little care and diligence is used by them, to call men to the trial, and help them in the examining and judging of themselves, as if it were a work of no necessity. ‘They have healed the hurt of the daughter of my people slightly, saying, Peace, peace, when there is no peace, saith the Lord.’”

Oh what preachers we should be, could we drink in the spirit of these powerful passages! May God impress them on our hearts, and lead us to mould our discourses after this fashion. I would, however, by no means wish to be thought unmindful of the importance oi building up the believer on his holy faith. Not only must the children of the redeemed family be born, but they must also be fed, watched, guided, and nourished up to manhood. The growth in grace and in knowledge of the heirs of immortality must be an object of deep solicitude with the faithful pastor. His children in the faith are not glorified, as soon as converted, but are carried through a probation, and often a long one, of conflict, trial, and temptation; and it is his business, by the instrumentality of the truth, deeply searched, carefully expounded, and appropriately applied, to conduct them through the perplexities and the dangers of the divine life. Hence, therefore, it is the duty of the minister, not to be always dwelling on first principles, nor teaching the mere alphabet of Bible knowledge, but to lead his people “on unto perfection;” yet still, amidst all this, he is never to forget that by far the greater number of those who are before him do not experimentally know these first principles, and have not learnt even this alphabet of practical piety. I once had a member of my church, who had been brought out of the literary world to a deep, experimental knowledge of divine truth. She was a woman of uncommonly fine and tasteful mind. After her conversion she dwelt for a season in London; and on her return from the metropolis, in giving an account of the various preachers she had heard, expressed her surprise and regret that their sermons, however excellent, seemed to be addressed, almost exclusively, to true believers, as if they took it for granted that their congregations were composed wholly of such, and contained none who were dead in trespasses and sins. And I know a devoted and consistent Christian, who, upon leaving a minister whom he had heard for several years, declared he had scarcely ever heard one thoroughly practical sermon from him during the whole time: there had been much doctrinal statement, much theological science, much religious comfort; but no vivid and pungent appeals either to saints or sinners. No wonder he knew of no conversions there: and yet this preacher is not an Antinomian.

Secondly. Earnestness implies that the subject has not only been selected, but that it has taken full ‘possession of the mind, and has kindled towards it an intense desire of the heart.

It is something more than the correctness of theory, and the deductions of logic; more than the cool calculation of the judgment, and the play of the imagination — earnestness means that the understanding, having selected and appreciated its object, has pressed all the faculties of both mind and body into its pursuit. It urges the soul onward in its career of action at such a speed, that it is set on fire by the velocity of its own motion. The object of an earnest man is never, for any long period of time, absent from his thoughts. He meditates on it by day, and dreams of it by night: it meets him in his solitary walks as some bright vision which he loves to contemplate, and it comes over him in company with such power, that he cannot avoid making it the topic of his conversation, till he appears in the eyes of those who have no sympathy with him in the light of an enthusiast.

Foster, in his “Essay on Decision of Character,” has alluded to Howard as supplying a fine illustration of this mental quality. I furnish one extract bearing more directly than perhaps any other on our present theme. It relates to the singular fact that this great philanthropist turned not a moment from his course, when traversing those scenes most calculated to awaken curiosity, and to enkindle enthusiasm by the associations of ancient glory with which they are connected — even Rome itself. “The importance of his object held his faculties in a state of excitement which was too rigid to be affected by lighter interests, and on which, therefore, the beauties of nature and art had no power: like the invisible spirits who fulfil their commission of philanthropy among mortals, and care not about pictures, statues, and sumptuous buildings. It implied an inconceivable severity of conviction that he had one thing to do; and that he who would do some great thing in this short life must apply himself to the work with such a concentration of his forces as, to idle spectators, who live only to amuse themselves, looks like insanity. It was thus he made the trial, so seldom made, what is the utmost effect which may be granted to the last possible effort of a human agent; and therefore what he did not accomplish, he might conclude to be placed beyond the sphere of mortal activity, and calmly leave to the disposal of Omnipotence.”

There, again, is the representation of the really and intensely earnest minister of Jesus Christ, and of the manner in which he regards the object of his ministry, the salvation of immortal souls. He has drunk in the inspiration of those inexpressibly sublime and solemn words, so often often already quoted, “They watch for your souls as they that must give account, that they may do it with joy and not with grief.” This declaration has come over him like a spell, from the fascination of which he neither tries nor wishes to escape. Whether seated in his chair in his study; or carrying on the exercises of devotion in the closet; or preaching the gospel in the pulpit; or enjoying the pleasures of Christian friendship in the social circle; or recreating his energies amidst the beauties of creation; the wrords of Solomon stand out conspicuously before his mind’s eye, “He that winneth souls is wise;” while, ever and anon, the thunder of Christ’s awful inquiry comes pealing over his ear, “What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world, and lose his own soul, or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?” To be useful in converting souls is his constant and practical aim: with a view to which, his texts are chosen, his sermons are composed and delivered, and his language, figures, and illustrations are selected. That word usefulness has the same meaning in his ear, the same power over his soul, as the word “victory” has over the mind of the hero: and the preparation and delivery of the most eloquent sermons, with all the plaudits that follow them, will no more satisfy his ambition, than the skillful evolutions, the military splendor, and the martial music of a field day, however they may be admired by the multitudinous spectators, will content the desires of the patriot warrior who burns to defeat his country’s foe upon the field of battle, and to rescue the liberties of his enslaved nation from the grasp of a tyrant. By the earnest minister, the salvation of souls is sought with the obligation of a principle, and the ardor of a passion. It is impressed upon his whole character, and is inseparable from his conduct. It distinguishes him among, and from, many of his brethren. When the congregations, either at home or abroad, go to hear him, they know what to expect, and consequently do not look for the flowers of rhetoric, but for the fruit of the tree of life; not for a dry crust of philosophy, not for a meatless, marrowless bone of criticism, but for the bread which cometh down from heaven; not for a display of religious fire-works, splendid but useless, but for the holding up of the torch of eternal truth in all its clear shining light to guide the wandering and benighted souls to the refuge of the lost. Tie has. by the usual style of his pulpit discourses, established his character as a useful preacher, and those who go to hear him, would as soon expect to listen to a mere poetical or classical effusion, instead of directions for health, from a physician whom they consulted in a time of sickness, as such matters from this servant of Christ, instead of a sermon calculated and designed to do good to their souls. He could possibly be eloquent, profound, or learned, and when these things can aid him in securing his one great end, he does not scruple to employ them. His aim is at the heart and conscience, and if the poetic, the literary, the logical, the scientific, will at any time so polish and plume the shaft, or sharpen the point of the arrow, he will not reject them, but will avail himself of their legitimate uses, that he may the more certainly hit the mark. This is his motto, “If by any means I might save some.”

But this touches a third thing implied in genuine earnestness, and that is the studious invention and diligent use of all appropriate means to accomplish the selected object. An earnest man is the last to be satisfied with mere formality, routine, and prescription. He will often survey his object, his means, and his instruments; will look back upon the past to review his course, to examine his failure and success, with the causes of each; to learn what to do, and what to avoid for the future. His inquiry will often be, What next? What more? What better? And as the result of all this, new experiments will be tried, new plans will be laid, and new courses will be pursued. With an inextinguishable ardor, and with a resolute fixedness of purpose, he exclaims “I must succeed — How?”

And shall we ministers possess nothing of this, if we are in earnest for the salvation of souls? Shall dull uniformity, stiff formality, everlasting repetitions, and rigid routine satisfy us? Shall we never institute the inquiry, “Why have I not succeeded better in my ministry? How is it that my congregation is not larger, and my church more rapidly increasing? In what way can I account for it, that the truth as it is in Jesus, which I believe I preach, is not more influential, and the doctrine of the cross is not as it was intended to be, the power of God unto the salvation of souls? Why do I not more frequently hear addressed to me, by those who are constantly under my ministry, the anxious inquiry, ‘What shall I do to be saved I am not wanting, as far as I know, in the regular discharge of my ordinary duties, and yet I gather little fruit of my labors, and have to utter continually the prophet’s complaint, * Who hath believed our report, and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed ¥” Do we indeed indulge in such complaints? Have we earnestness enough to pour forth such lamentations? Or is it of little consequence to us, provided we get our stipend, keep up the congregation to its usual size, and maintain the tranquillity of the church, whether the ends of the ministry are accomplished or not? Are we ever seen by God’s omniscient eye pacing our study in deep thoughtfulness, solemn meditation, and rigorous inquisition; and after an impartial survey of our doings, and a sorrowful lamentation that we are doing no more, questioning ourselves thus — “Is there no new method to be tried, no new scheme to be devised, to increase the efficiency of my ministerial and pastoral labors? Is there nothing I can supply, correct, or add? Is there anything particularly wanting in the matter, manner, or method of my preaching, or in my course of pastoral attentions?” Surely it might be supposed that such inquiries would be often instituted into the results of such a ministry as ours that seasons would be not unfrequentty set apart, especially at the close of the year, for such a purpose.

Here it may be proper for us to look out of our own profession, and ask if the earnest tradesman, soldier, lawyer, philosopher, and mechanician, are satisfied to go on as they have done, though with ever so little success? Do we not see in all other departments of human action, where the mind is really intent on some great object, and where success has not been obtained in proportion to the labor bestowed, a dissatisfaction with past modes of action, and a determination to try new ones? And should we who watch for souls, and labor for immortality, be behindhand with them? In calling for new methods, I want no new doctrines; no new principles; no startling eccentricities; no wild irregularities; no vagaries of enthusiasm, nor frenzies of the passions; no, nothing but what the most sober judgment and the soundest reason would approve; — but I do want a more inventive, as well as a more fervid zeal in seeking the great end of our ministry. Dull uniformity, and not enthusiasm, is the side on which our danger lies. I know very well the contortions of an epileptic zeal are to be avoided, but so also is the numbness of a paralytic one; and after all, the former is less dangerous to life, and is more easily and frequently cured, than the latter. We may, as regards our preaching, for instance, examine whether we have not dwelt too little on the alarming, or on the attractive themes of revelation; whether we have not clothed our discourses too much with the terrors of the Lord, and determine to try the more winning forms of love and mercy, or whether we have not rendered the gospel powerless by an everlasting repetition of it in common-place phraseology; whether we have not been too argumentative, and resolve to be more imaginative, practical, and hortatory; whether we have not addressed ourselves too exclusively to believers, and determine to commence a style of more frequent and pungent address to the unconverted; whether we have not been too vague and general in our descriptions of sin, and become more specific and discriminating; whether we have not been too neglectful of the young, and begin a regular course of sermons to them; whether we have not had too much sameness of topic, and adopt courses of sermons on given subjects; whether we have not been too elaborate and abstract in the composition of our discourses, and come down to greater simplicity; whether we have not been too careless, and bestow more pains; whether we have not been too doctrinal, and in future make all truth, as it was intended to do, to bear upon the heart, conscience, and life. 1ST or must the inquiry stop here. There must be the same process of rigid scrutiny instituted as to the labors of the pastorate. We must review the proceedings of this momentous department, for here also is most ample scope for invention as to new plans of action. Perhaps upon inquiry we shall find out that we have neglected various channels through which our influence might have been poured over the flock committed to our care, and shall discover many ways in which we can improve upon our former plans in the way of meeting the inquirers after salvation, giving our aid to Sunday schools, setting up Bible classes, or visiting the flock. What is needed, is an anxious wish to be wanting in nothing that can conduce to our usefulness, a diligent endeavor to make up every deficiency, and a mind ever inquisitive after new means and methods of doing good. Could we all but adopt the plan of setting apart a day at the close of every year for solemn examination into our ministerial and pastoral doings, for the purpose of ascertaining our defects and neglects, to see in what we could improve, to humble ourselves before God for the past, and to lay down new rules for the future, we

should all be more abundantly useful than we are. And does not earnestness require all this? Can we pretend to it if Ave do not? The idea of a minister’s going on from year to year with either little success, or none at all, and yet never pausing to inquire how this comes to pass, or what can be done to increase his efficiency, is so utterly repugnant to all proper notions of devotedness, that we are obliged to conclude that the views of such a man of the design of his office are radically and essentially defective.

Fourthly. Earnestness implies a purpose and power of subordinating everything it meets with, selects, or engages in, to the accomplishment of its one great object.

An earnest man has much sagacity in discerning objects, even at a distance, that are favorable to his purpose; much power in seizing them as they approach; and much tact in pressing them into his service, and weaving them into his schemes. He avoids at the same time the folly of letting go his main object in the pursuit of lesser ones, and of thus converting means into ends. The operations of his mind resemble those of a vast machine, in which the ruling power subjects to itself the thousand little wheels and spindles that are set in motion, and makes them all accomplish the purpose for which the engine has been set up. Or the current of his thought and feeling may be compared to the majestic flow of some noble river, which receives into its stream, and bears forward in its course, the numerous rivulets by which its waters are swollen, and its power increased. So acts the earnest minister. There are various matters which he may attend to, and ought not to neglect, which may with great propriety bo considered as means, but which cannot be viewed as the end of his high and holy calling.

The first of these which I mention is learning, and indeed, general knowledge of all kinds. Literature, science, and philosophy, however excellent in themselves, and however subservient they may be rendered as means to accomplish the great ends of the ministerial office, must never, I repeat, be exalted into the place of the ends themselves. Viewed as subordinate and subsidiary, they cannot be too highly valued, nor too diligently sought. There is not any kind of knowledge, nor any degree of it, which may not be made tributary to the ends of gospel ministrations. All other things being equal, he is likely to be the most useful preacher, who is the most learned one. There is nothing, there can be nothing, in literature and science, which of themselves can be injurious to a minister of Christ: the pride and vanity which produce such a result are but as those weeds which flourish in a shallow and sandy soil, but which wither and die in rich, deep loam. The man who decries learning as mischievous per se to the ministry, is fit only to be torch-bearer to another Caliph Omar, and to act the part of an incendiary to all the libraries of the world. A minister may have too little piety, too little solicitude for the salvation of souls, too little devotedness, too little care to render his acquisitions subservient to the ends of his vocation, but he can never have too much knowledge.

“Perhaps the best answer that can be given to those inconsiderate Christians who say that religion needs not such foreign and meretricious aids as human learning, is that of South, — ‘If God hath no need of our learning, lie can have still less of your ignorance.’ In the spiritual temple, as well as in the ark of the covenant, there i room not only for those humbler gifts, the skins and hair cloth, but also for the gold and silver of human learning: and even the sciences themselves, daughters as they are of the uncreated wisdom, may receive consecration from seraphic piety, and be made priestesses of the Most High, by the very service in which we employ them.” How beautiful is the following language of Dr. Wiseman, and how correct the sentiment which it clothes and adorns: (i You all, I doubt not, have often admired those exquisite paintings in the ceilings of the Borgia apartments of the Yatican, wherein the sciences are represented as holding their separate courts; each enthroned upon a stately chair, with features and mien of the most noble and dignified beauty, surrounded by the emblems and most distinguished representatives of its power on earth, and seeming to claim homage from all that gaze upon it. And judge what would have been the painter’s conception, and to what a sublimity of expression he would have risen, had it been his task to represent the noblest of all sciences, our divine religion, enthroned, as ever becomes her, to receive the fealty and worship of these her handmaids. For if, as hath been proved, they are but ministers to her superior rule, and are intended to furnish the evidences of her authority, how much above theirs must be the comeliness and grace, and majesty and holiness, with which she must be arrayed! And what honor and dignity must be conferred on him who feels himself deputed to bear the tribute of these fair vassals; and how must his admiration of their graces be enhanced, by finding himself brought so near her presence.”*

* Dr. Wiseman’s “Lectures on the Connection between Science and Revealed Religion.” Vol. IT. p. 317.

This splendid passage expresses what I would urgently enforce, that literature and science may be subservient, but must be only subservient, to the ends of the ministerial office.

Having thus quoted a passage from a Roman Catholic author, let me subjoin to it another from a Protestant, of a different kind indeed, but by no means inharmonious with it. “Oh my brethren,” says the amiable and pious Doddridge, in his incomparable sermon on “The Evil and Danger of Neglecting Souls,” “let us consider how fast we are posting through this dying life, which God has assigned to us, in which we are to manage concerns of infinite moment; how fast we are passing on to the immediate presence of our Lord, to give up our account to him. You must judge for yourselves, but permit me to say for my own part, I would not for ten thousand worlds be that man, who when God shall ask him at last how he has employed most of his time, while lie continued a minister of his church, and had the care of souls, shall be obliged to reply, ‘Lord, I have restored many corrupted passages in the classics, and illustrated many which were before obscure; I have cleared up many intricacies in chronology or geography; I have solved many perplexed cases in algebra; I have refined on astronomical calculations, and left behind me many sheets on these curious and difficult subjects; and these are the employments in which my life has been worn out, while preparations for the pulpit, and ministrations in it, did not demand my more immediate attendance.’ Oh sirs, as for the waters that are drawn from these springs, how sweetly soever they may taste to a curious mind that thirsts after them, or to an ambitions mind that thirsts for the applause they sometimes procure, I fear there is too often reason to pour then out befo

Lord, with rivers of penitential tears, as the blood of souls which have been forgotten, whilst these trifles have been remembered and pursued.’’

This is the language of a scholar, a critic, and a man of varied knowledge; but whose piety as a Christian, and whose devotedness as a minister, were equal to his other attainments. In a foot-note to this admirable discourse, which we ministers should do well to read once a month, is a quotation from a sermon of a Scottish minister, preached before the Synod of Glasgow, which also I may with propriety introduce here: — “A just sense of the relation we stand in to our flocks, and a genuine feeling of that affection which is due to them, will not allow us to hesitate one moment, whether that part of our time is most worthily employed, which is taken up in doing real offices of friendship among them, or that part of it which is spent in perusing the finest writings of the greatest genius that ever appeared in our world, or in polishing any little compositions of our own. Is the arranging of words, the beautifying of language, or even storing our own minds with the divinest sentiments, an employment of equal dignity and importance in itself, or equally pleasing in reflection, with that of composing differences or extinguishing animosities, searching out modest and indigent merit, and relieving it, comforting a melancholy heart, giving counsel to a perplexed mind, suspending pain by our presence and sympathy, suggesting to an unfurnished mind proper materials for meditation in the time of distress, or laying hold of a favorable opportunity of conveying valuable instruction and religious impressions to a mind little susceptible of them on other occasions. There is no need of saying anything in confirmation of this: it was the glorious character of Jesus, that he went about doing good.”

It might be admitted, and shall be conceded, that we live in an age when, to carry out the main purpose of the Christian ministry, and to render it efficient for the salvation of souls, there requires a higher standard of ministerial qualifications, and larger acquirements of general knowledge, than at some former periods.

It will, I hope, be clearly seen from all this, that I am not decrying education, or learning, or the greatest diligence in ministers for the acquisition of knowledge; quite the contrary: but I am enforcing with all the earnestness I can command, the indispensable necessity of rendering all acquirements subordinate to the great work of saving souls. Learning, as an ultimate object and for its own sake, is infinitely below the ambition of a holy and devoted servant of Christ; but learning employed to invigorate the intellect, to enrich the imagination, to cultivate the taste, to give power to thought, and variety to illustration; to add to the skill and energy with which we wield the weapons of our warfare, is in some cases indispensable, and in all invaluable. Unhappily it is not uncommon for those who have made large acquisitions in varied learning, and acquired a scientific, philosophic or literary taste, to yield to the seductions of the objects of their pursuits, and to allow themselves to be led astray from the simplicity that is in Christ Jesus. If there is one man to be admired, envied, and imitated above all others, it is he who has baptized large classic and scientific acquirements at the font of Christianity, — has surrendered them at the foot of the cross, and gathered them up into the nerve of his strength, as a preacher of the gospel. To hear such a man chastening and guiding, but not checking or freezing the unfiling utterances of a full heart, by the rules of genuine eloquence; and warming and sanctifying the finest specimens of rhetoric by the glow of a soul on fire with the passion of love to God and souls; to see the genius of Tully and Demosthenes clothing themselves with the mantle of Paul, Peter, and John, and under the constraining love of Christ, employing all its resources of diction and of metaphor, to persuade men to be reconciled to God, — is an object of surpassing interest: to such preachers we can almost fancy that not only men, but angels, must listen with delight.

There is, however, too much truth in the following remarks of Dr. Vaughax: “The effect of learning and of elegant scholarship, in the modern pulpit, has commonly been to render men incapable of producing impression of this nature in any degree. In the case of such preachers, neither the diction they use, nor the mould into which they cast their expressions and sentences, nor the comparisons they introduce, nor anything belonging to their rhetoric, has been an object of study with a view to its fitness to secure attention, and to move the thoughts and passions of such assemblies as are generally convened by the preacher — assemblies made up from the popular, much more than from the thoroughly educated classes of society. The great object of this class of preachers has been to acquit themselves learnedly, or to acquit themselves elegantly. It is grievous to witness the mischiefs which have resulted from this conventionalism in pulpit taste. If our pulpit lessons must be veiled in the language of a particular kind of scholarship, then the people generally, and even men of good natural parts, who have not been initiated into that scholarship, will fail to perceive our meaning, and will begin, as the consequence, to cast about for some better employment than listening to the utterance of our unknown tongue.”*

I go on now to mention another qualification for the sacred office, and which the earnest minister will anxiously cultivate with a view to the great object of his life and labors, and to which I advance with a praying mind, an anxious heart, and a trembling hand, ardently desirous to set it forth in such manner as shall secure for it the attention which its importance demands; I mean personal religion. We are weak in the pulpit, because we are weak in the closet. An earnest man will not only train his mind to understand his object, and draw around him the resources of ways and means for its accomplishment, but will discipline his heart; for there, within, is the spring of his energies, the seat of impulse, and the source of power. If the heart beat feebly, the whole circulation must be sluggish, and the frame inert. So is it with us ministers: our own personal religion is the mainspring of all our power in the pulpit. We are feeble as preachers, because we are feeble as Christians. Whatever other deficiencies we have, the chief of all lies in the heart. The apostle said, “We believe and therefore speak.” We not only speak what we believe, but as we believe: if the faith be weak, so will be the utterance. In another place the same inspired writer said, “Knowing the terrors of the Lord, we persuade men.” It was when standing as amidst the solemnities of the last judgment, that apostles besought men to be reconciled to God. The flame of zeal which in their ministrations rose to such a height and intensify as to subject them to the charge of insanity, is thus accounted

* Modern Pulpit, pp. 23, 24.

for, “The love of Christ constraineth us.” We have too much forgotten that the fount of eloquence is in the heart; and that it is feeling which gives to words and thoughts their power. An unrenewed man, or one with a lukewarm piety, may preach elaborate sermons upon orthodox doctrines, but what are they for power and efficiency, when compared with those of the peacher, who feels as well as glories in the cross, but as the splendid coruscations of the aurora borealis to the warm and vivifying rays of the sun?

The Christian minister sustains a double relation, and has a double duty to perform; he is a preacher to the world, and a pastor to the church, and it is impossible he can fulfill, or be in earnest to fulfill, the obligations he is under to either, without a large measure of personal godliness. As regards the church which is committed to his care, and of which he is made by the Holy Ghost the spiritual overseer, he has not only to increase their knowledge, but their holiness, their love, and their spirituality; to aid them in performing all the branches of their duty, and in cultivating all the graces of their sanctification. And what is the present spiritual condition of the great bulk of the professors of religion? Amidst much that is cheering, there is, on the other hand, much that is discouraging and distressing to the more pious observer. We behold a strange combination of zeal and worldly-mindedness; great activity for the extension of religion in the earth, united with lamentable indifference to the state of religion in the soul; in short, apparent vigor in the extremities, with a growing torpor at the heart. Multitudes are substituting zeal for piety, liberality for mortification, and a social for a personal religion. No careful reader of the New Testament, and observer of the present state of the church, can fail to be convinced, one should think, that what is now wanting is a high spirituality. The Christian profession is sinking in its tone of piety; the line of separation between the church and the world becomes less and less perceptible ;• and the character of genuine Christianity, as expounded from pulpits and delineated in books, has too rare a counterpart in the lives and spirit of its professors.

How is this to be remedied, and by what means is the spirit of piety to be revived? May we not ask a previous question — How came this spirit of slumber over the church? Was it not from the pulpit? And if a revival take place in the former, must it not begin in the latter? Is the ministry of the present day in that state of earnest piety which is likely to originate and sustain an earnest style of preaching, and to revive the lukewarmness of their flocks? I do not mean for a moment to insinuate that the ministers of the present day among the Dissenters, or Methodists, or the evangelical clergy of the Church of England, are characterized by immorality, or even a want of substantial holiness; or that they would suffer, as regards their piety, in comparison with those of some other periods of the history of their denominations: but what I am compelled to believe, and what I now express, is that our deficiencies are great as compared not only with what is always required of us, but is especially required by the circumstances of the times in which Ave live. Amidst the eager pursuits of commerce; the elegancies and soft indulgences of an age of growing refinement; the high cultivation of the intellect, and the contests of politics, the church needs a strong and high barrier to keep out the encroachment of tides so adverse to its prosperity, and needs equally a dam to keep in its spiritual feeling. And where shall we find this, if not in the pulpit? It is not in the nature of things to be expected that the spiritual character of the church should ever be superior to that of the ministry; and it is perfectly consistent with what we know of human nature to expect that it will always hold itself excused for being inferior. It will not tread a path which its spiritual guides are slow to pursue; and will deem it an affectation of sanctity, and a presumptuous ambition, to attempt to advance beyond them. How else than by believing in a deficiency of our piety can we account for the fact of a diminished efficiency in our ministry?

I cannot resist the temptation of giving here a long extract from that beautiful tract entitled “A Revived Ministry our only hope for a Revived Church;” a tract so eminently excellent, and so adapted to promote the end of the pious and accomplished writer, that it is a proof that we have little wdsh to be raised to higher attainments in piety, that such a heart- searching, soul-reviving production has yet reached only a second edition.*

“And for such a revived ministry there would be the most hopeful preparation of mind. The object to be aimed at would be distinctly conceived; it would be loved and cherished as the noblest to which a redeemed being can consecrate himself; and there would be a readiness to yield everything to the urgency and grandeur of its claims, together with the simplicity and guilelessness of intention, which would mightily aid the judgment in seeing its best way to the best methods of achieving it. In such circumstances, all the distracting influences arising from indistinct

* A pious clergyman of this town was so impressed with the beauty, fidelity, and earnestness of this tract, that he purchased a hundred copies for distribution among his brethren.

views, a divided heart, and infirmity of purpose, would be withdrawn, and leave the minister of Christ free to take a decided and energetic course. The subjection of the church and the world to the dominion of the truth, in a pure heart and holy life, would be ever present to his mind as the sole and sublime end of his ministry; and, drawing after it the full tide of his sympathies, and permitting no diversion of his strength to any inferior object, it would command all his powers, and dispossess him of every wish but that of living and dying for it. And that moment would be the dawn of an era of prosperity.

“Everything which he did would be enlivened by the presence of a warmer and holier zeal; but it would be the public administration of divine truth, in the ordinance of preaching, in which the stronger and healthier pulsations of spiritual life would be most signally displayed, and from which the largest results might be expected. In this he would be prepared for acting a new part. Himself saved and eminently sanctified, as well as possessed of the whole treasury of sacred knowledge in the inspired volume, he would be well versed in the respective truths best calculated for awakening the unconverted, and promoting the highest sanctification of the church, and administer them with improved wisdom and force. The wretchedness of the soul as guilty, depraved, and hastening to the judgment-seat; the blessedness of arresting it in its downward course, and of exalting it once more to the glory of the Divine image and favor; the ample means provided for all this in the mediation of Christ; the experience of their efficacy in himself, and the conviction of their undiminished power to do as much for others; the rapid flight of time and the possibility of all the mercy over-shadowing thai hour being trifled with and lost forever, — these thrill his soul with mingled commiseration, hope, and fear, and urge him to improve to the utmost the fleeting opportunity of snatching sinners from perdition, and adding to the brightness of the Redeemer’s crown. How well chosen is his theme! no matter of curious speculation, but some one or more of the solemn verities which concern the instant faith and obedience of every hearer, and bring life or death, as accepted or rejected. Away with those artificial rules which some have prescribed, as if to prepare a sermon were something like composing an epic! He has a truth to enforce, a moral effect to produce, and the sense of its unutterable importance brings to bear upon it all the resources of a judicious, intelligent, and impassioned mind. Bent on winning souls to God, or quickening them to higher obedience, this one desire possesses and inflames him, and gives a unity and completeness to his subject, a force and compactness of argument, a felicity of speech and manner, an ardor and impressiveness of appeal, which the art of the rhetorician could never have supplied. He feels, moreover, that his strength is in God, and that the pleadings of human wisdom and pity never availed apart from a higher inspiration. Would there not be more than hope from a ministry like this? In itself so convincing and persuasive, rendered still more so by the practical exhibition of all the faith, uprightness, benevolence, and spirituality which it inculcates, looking to God, and owning its weakness without his blessing, it would have all the characteristics from which the susceptibilities of the human mind, and the solemn promises of the Almighty, authorize the expectation of enlarged success. When was such a ministry known to be long in contact with the minds of men, without producing the happiest effects? ‘The word of the Lord would have free course and be glorified,’ converts press into the church, and the church be raised to a higher renovation.

“And the minister thus revived would have unwonted power in individual intercourse with the members of his flock. Living only for their advancement in faith and holiness, the warmth and tenderness of his concern for it would make him prompt to seize every opportunity of promoting it, and give an appropriateness and weight to his sayings which a colder and less earnest piety would never have dictated; while the objects of his solicitude, feeling the point and force of his words, and impressed with his singleness of purpose, and still more with that uniform display of the Christian virtues, which was the best voucher of his deep sincerity, would find themselves drawn along by a combination of influences so pure and commanding, that they must tread in the steps of his piety, and bend to his hallowed purpose of extending the limits of the church, and giving it a holier aspect. Every faithful minister can look back upon seasons when, under the kindlings of a warmer love and zeal, and a more affecting sense of external things, he was animated to increased exertion; and he has found that, not only did his preaching fix the attention and touch the souls of his hearers more than at other times, but that, when he went among them in private, the elevation of his spirit, the seriousness of his converse, and the solemnity and unction pervading his petitions, produced an evident impression, and that he left them with improved feelings and resolves. All emotion is contagious, and easily propagates itself to other bosoms; but, beside this, the wakefulness of his zeal, and his steadiness of purpose, made him eager to extract the highest amount of good from every opportunity, stimulated ingenuity, and gave an aptness and charm to all that he said, which fell with happy effect on the understanding and the heart. And had the ardor and determination of those seasons been permanent, the equable and healthy excitement of every day’s labor, instead of soon relapsing into the feebler sensibility of other times, his ministry would, doubtless, have told a different history, and been far more richly laden with precious fruit.”

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 want 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 religion 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 Biddulph! 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 suffering? 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 till 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 till 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 oh, where has the mantle of your piety fallen!

God of our fathers! be the God
Of their succeeding 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, as I have said, the scintillation of his own 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 inquire for the sources of energy, the springs of activity, in the most successful ministers of Christ, we shall find that they lay in the ardor of their devotion. They were men o( prayer and of faith. They dwelt upon the mount of communion with God, from whence they came down 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 things unseen and eternal, and came with the stupendous visions fresh in their view, and spoke of them 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 either Whitfield or Wesley in their career, and you will see how beaten was the road between the pulpit and the closet: the grass was not allowed to grow in that path. This was in great part the secret of their power. They were mighty in public, because in their retirement they had clothed themselves, so to speak, with Omnipotence. 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 see first of all a revival in the piety of those who occupy it: and when this is the case, then “He that is feeble among us shall be as David, and the house of David shall be as God, as the angel of the Lord before them.”