Visit to Scotland; Remarks on Preaching

My dear Children, — In the summer of 18 — I visited Scotland. It was in the service of the London Missionary Society. I preached my way thither, on public occasions, at Birmingham, Manchester, Halifax, Hull, and York. At the latter place I passed a whole Sabbath. A plan was to have been in readiness to regulate all my public movements when I arrived at Edinburgh, but it was not well formed. Hence time was frequently lost, and due notices were not always forwarded. The neglect was occasioned by the manner in which the affair of arrangement was settled. Where a number of persons are engaged, mutual dependence on each other weakens a sense of individual responsibility, and often little or nothing is done. Had the ark been built by a committee, it would never have been finished. In the case to which I am referring, one should have been appointed for the purpose of direction, and this one a man of

business and tact; while here several individuals were concerned, and I believe all of these were ministers, who, it is well known, are not always the most apt and punctual men in the world.

Here also I scarcely preached to advantage, and must have fallen short in some degree of the fame that had preceded me, and which was aided by the report of many who had visited Bath in a course of years, and had heard me in my own pulpit. I was hurried and perplexed, and wanted that freedom from bustle, and that retirement, without which I never could feel or produce much impression. The principal places I preached in were Edinburgh, Falkirk, Stirling, Dumblane, Glasgow, Paisley, Greenock, Largs, and the Isle of Bute. In four of these places, I preached in the Established Kirk, as well as among the Seceders and Congregationalists. From the beginning, the pulpits in the National Church of Scotland had been opened to orthodox divines of other communions; but some little time before my visit the General Assembly had passed a decree to close them.* This seemed to have been done, not only from a dislike of a certain kind of doctrinal preaching, but in a moment of irritation, occasioned, perhaps, in a measure by some indiscreet acts among those who needed only to have preached the testimony of God,

* This reference to the closing of the pulpits in the Established Kii-k of Scotland but a short time before Mr. Jay’s visit, enables us nearly to fix the date which he has left open in the commencement of the present letter. It is well known that the Decree of the General Assembly was attributed to the first visit of the Rev. Rowland Hill and his itinerant labours in Scotland. That visit took place in the year 1798. The Decree to close the pulpits against ministers of other communions probably passed the Assembly of 1799, for on Mr. Hill’s second visit he found it in operation against him. Mr. Jay’s visit we may, therefore, suppose from his language, took place within a year or two. So that its date must have been 1800, 1801 or 1802, and could hardly have been later, or he would not have used the words, “some little time before.”

as Whitfield did, who knew “nothing save Jesus Christ and him crucified.^^ It is related that when he first visited Scotland, the excellent Erskines rather opposed him, as not sufficiently particular and discriminate in his zeal; they wished to confine his labours to their own party, and to forbid his preaching in the Church from which they had seceded, saying, “God had left it.’^ Then said he,” It is the more necessary for me to preach in it, to endeavour to bring him back: 1^11 preach Christ wherever they’U let me.’’

It was hoped at this time, by the better members of the Establishment, that such a decree would not long remain in their statute-book. Some from the first deemed the decree more honoured in the breach than in the observance; and it was pleasing to find how soon, in some actual instances, it was treated as a dead letter. The last General Assembly, previous to the Secession which forms the “Free Church,’’ nobly abrogated it; but, as it was expected, the Residuary Church soon re-enacted it. It is the disgrace and the injury of a Church to be exclusive, but it is worse to become so, and to become so when knowledge and liberality prevail, and the rights of conscience are so much better understood. In churches just emerging from the bosom of Antichristianism, or rising up when religion was so identified with superstition, when bigotry and intolerance were the error of the age, as well as of individuals, some degree of the evil can hardly be wondered at, and may be for a time tolerated. But “they that sleep, sleep in the night, and they that are drunken are drunken in the night; but let them that are of the day be sober.” It is lamentable to think that the Established Church of England has become more intolerant than it was formerly. Even in the days of Elizabeth, other Protestant communities were not unchurched, nor the ordinations of their ministers deemed invalid. It is an historical fact, that what cannot be done now was more than allowed then; and that divines both

officiated in the Establishment, and obtained preferments, who had only been set apart by the “laying on of the hands of the Presbytery.” In Edinburgh I was followed by that good and talented, but eccentric, or (at least) peculiar character, Dr.

S- 1 (Stuart). He had seceded from the Church of Scotland,

but no church came up quite to his standard of scriptural purity and order; and, therefore, it is said, he communed with none but his own servant, in his own house. He always heard more like a judge than a learner. He weighed everything that dropped from a preacher’s lips in the nicest scales of rigid orthodoxy, and was never backward to pronounce “Tekel.’’ /was not, therefore, very likely to escape. Accordingly I soon found that I had erred in my opinion concerning the unlikely supreme prevalence of popery, and had shown, with regard to some parties, a most improper candour. But when I happened to preach at the Rev. Mr. Innes’s meeting, from the words of John, ‘Perfect love casteth out fear,’’ the sermon so pleased him, that very late the same night he wrote me a letter much importuning me to give it to the public, as the best illustration of an important principle he had ever heard. Here is the letter itself: —

“My dear Sir, — I regret very much that my state of health disqualifying me for conversation, has not permitted me to avail myself of the opportunity of seeing you. I have, however, been privileged with hearing you three times; and may I, though without consultation with any one, earnestly beseech you to let the discourse of to-night appear from the press? I do not urge this lightly. I do beg it of you from the conviction that it contained the truth in one of the most striking representations I ever heard, and is suited to alarm, rouse, comfort, animate; but it contains a solution of various difficulties which will, I know, disentangle many. That it coincides with my sentiments is nothfhg; in so far I beg leave to enclose a statement of it. Only meaning to confess how low it is, compared with the practical, admirable, elevated view of it you delivered. I am, my dear Sir,

“Your most obedient servant,

‘’Charles Stuart.
“Thursday Night.’’

I had also once seen him in London, where he frequently heard me; and calling upon me at Surrey Chapel House, he said he had formerly written a review of my sermons, for some part of which he was now sorry, as he had not done justice to the evangelism of my sentiments, of which he was now persuaded from hearing me.

In my long public life and various preachings, I have met with no few of these “tryers,’’ who had or feigned to have some scruples as to the stanchness of my credenda; but I never quarrelled with them — never argued with them; but took care never to flatter them, or court their favour.” Thou shalt not bow down to them nor worship them, for I am the Lord thy God.’’ “Call no man master upon earth, for one is your master, even Christ.” In this journey, I always felt an apprehension which had a contracting and depressing influence. It was the thought that my mode of preaching was not congenial with the taste of Scottish audiences. My friend, Mr. Hughes, who had been for education at Aberdeen, contributed to this, by telling me, when I was going to Scotland, that while in the north I must be very careful and guarded, and forbear freedoms, and especially anecdotes, which would not be relished or endured there. A man always works best when he works in his own way; and I knew I should do better with my sling and stones than in Saul’s armour. My preaching could never dispense with my own manner, and which I am sure was natural to me, and not derived from the schools. Towards the conclusion of my mission,*I was

preaching in the Isle of Bute; and near the end of the sermon I mentioned the caveat I had received before I left England; adding, that I then felt a strong temptation to break through it. I paused, and then said, — “Well, whatever be the consequence, I will introduce the following anecdote.” I saw it told; and the ministers, coming afterwards into the session-house or vestjy, said, “You have laboured under a great mistake, we are not averse to anecdotes, but to some kinds of them, and to the manner of relating and applying any of them. When they are well chosen, and properly introduced, they are peculiarly acceptable, as they are more unusual with us, and we want excitement more than information.”

One thing struck me much while in Scotland. It was their lecturing, which I believe is invariable on the morning of the Lords day, in all their sanctuaries, both in the Establishment and among Seceders. I had only before very rarely employed this mode of instruction, but ever since my return I have frequently introduced it. I once, indeed, had begun an essay on the subject in order to recommend the practice, to which I had intended to annex a volume of such exercises. But I was diverted immediately from my purpose, by the request of my congregation to publish “The Christian Contemplated,” which I had just delivered. It is, perhaps, now too late for me to resume the thing; but I here record it as my settled judgment, that nothing would be more profitable to the hearer, and useful to the preacher; and I only wish that our English churches would more encourage it, and our ministers seek to excel in it.

Some difficulty at first arose from my usual method of preaching, which is very textual; and which leads me to notice the several parts, and often even the wording of the text. But in lecturing, many minutenesses must be passed over, and the aim must be to seize and display the spirit or design of the whole passage, and bring it to bear upon the audience in practical application. Preachers differ in their talents, and all cannot equally succeed in the same department. But let none decline making an attempt here, or be discouraged if their efforts be not crowned with immediate success. In due time they may reap if they faint not.

I could commonly ascertain before I left the study how I should succeed in the pulpit. With me the tug of war was always alone. If I felt that I had grasped my subject, and could gain a certain frame of spirit made up of the solemn and the tender J I rather longed for the service than dreaded it; and this was very much the case on all occasions, the more extraordinary and trying ones not excepted.

I never considered an essay a sermon, or a sermon an essay; I always loved arrangement and division. I am aware that the former may be found without the latter, and intelligent and reflecting minds may recognize it; but as to the mass of hearers, concealed method is much the same as none. And why should it ever be concealed? The lower orders peculiarly need it; it relieves and quickens their attention; it aids their apprehension and understanding. It also enables them the better to retain and carry away what they hear; and how limited is the efficiency of what pleases and interests in the act of hearing only! And how desirable is it, that our people should keep in memory what is preached unto them, that they may not believe in vain!

Hence it is much to be wished that the divisions should be short, simple and easy; the language everywhere plain, and the exemplifications natural and familiar. Few can imagine how much I have always made this my aim and effort; nor have I less wished and endeavoured to be, in some measure, not only intelligible but impressive. This is no easy thing; and some of the means that would conduce to it, especially among the vulgar, are by many too much overlooked or despised. But is it not strange

that men of God, who profess to be ministers in a kingdom not of this world, and who are sent to seek that which is lost, should, while sitting in judgment upon their mode of preaching, inquire not what kind of address and illustration is most likely to be useful to the bulk of an audience, but what agrees best with the most admired modes of composition. Longinus, or Quintilian, or Cicero, has more authority with them, even in the things of the Spirit, than the manner of the sacred writers. The Jews had no schools for dialectics and rhetoric; their orators spoke only the eloquence of nature. Rules were originally derived from the excellency of works, and not works from the excellency of rules. Criticism is useful in its degree and place; but it is not a standard of absolute authority, especially with him that like Paul would ‘^ become all things to all men, if by all means he might save some.^^

I early preached in villages, and never discontinued the practice, as long as I was able and had opportunity. I ought, therefore, to know from much experience what is required in such services. I never went to them unprepared. It appeared to me strange that any should suppose, that less care and labour are necessary in preparation as those we address are less discipled and qualified to receive instruction. I always peculiarly studied for these occasions, only my study was how to be intelligible and interesting. The minds of the rustics are not inaccessible, but you must take the trouble to find the avenues to them. There are modes of making them look eagerly, and hang upon the preacher’s lips; and the preacher who secures their attention, whatever some think, has the honour of resembling him of whom it was said,” the common people heard him gladly.’^

Persons of education may be approached through mere intellect, but the poor generally are like women, whose heads are in their hearts. They are like poets, who feel before they think. Application with them is an effect rather than a cause. They

attend not to feel, but must be made to feel in order to attend. When will preachers remember the observation of RoUin, — viz., that” the eloquence of the Scripture is the eloquence of things, and not of words, and, therefore, it is that so much of the spirit and mode of the original shows itself even in the plainness of the translation.^^

I seem disposed to continue a little longer in the same strain. I shall, therefore, venture a few more remarks freely with regard to preaching.

Upon the principle before mentioned, the ex re nata of extemporaneous speaking will always be more effective than what is read from composed documents, or doled forth from mere recollection. Animation is desirable, and with ordinary minds no other quality will fully supply the want of it; but then it must appear to be the result of feeling. Whenever this is really the case, the animation will glow and rise with the subject. What is continuous and invariable must be mechanical and assumed. This is a sad secret let out by the uniform and constant bawlers or strainers. I have heard a whole sermon from the beginning to the end, whatever inequalities there were in the importance of the parts, delivered precisely in the same degree of tone and forced vehemency. But how can the fire precede the friction? And how can all the picture be light without shade?

Nothing that requires a lengthened connexion of argumentation will succeed with ordinary hearers. They are not accustomed to unbroken trains of thought or discussion. For them, if the preacher be wise, he will find out acceptable words; for the words of the wise are as goads and as nails. The mass are not mathematical; they are not logical. The deep and the subtle in reasoning vdll commonly escape them. Yet there is often in them largely — the principle of common sense; and they are capable of taking in even a profound proof or argument, if it be despatched with brevity and plainness. It is also very advan-LET. XV.] REMARKS ON PREACHING. 141

tageous, if not necessary, in their case, to attach, to the proof or argument some fact or image, not in evidence, (for metaphors prove nothing,) but in illustration. Thus a kind of handle is given to the subject, by which they are enabled to lay hold of and carry away what would else be too large, or unfit for their grasp.

I have always thought the regular Dissenters were to blame at the origin of Methodism. They did not indeed oppose, as the Church generally did, on the ground of doctrine, for in this they essentially acquiesced, but as to the mode of preaching. The Dissenters were educated ministers themselves, (for at that time there was scarcely a lay-preacher among them,) and their sermons were not only orthodox but studied, grammatically correct, and methodical; but, with a very few exceptions, pointless, cold, and drawled off from notes. On the other hand, many of the new preachers had not been trained for the ministry; and delivered themselves in a way very unacceptable, in many respects, to cultivated minds. They were often boisterous, rude, coarse, incoherent. Yet they were powerful and efficient; and noise and novelty will not account for all the effect they produced. Reflecting men might have perceived this. Our ministers saw that the Meeting was thinly attended, and that crowds were drawn to the Tabernacle. Instead of listeniug to reports, which always magnified the mistakes of these men, and dwelling so much upon their deficiencies, they should have owned that God honoured them and did much good by them; they should have heard and judged for themselves; they should have examined whether there were not some things in which these labourers, (for such indeed they were) deserved not only to be tolerated, but even imitated. And there were a few who nobly differed from the many of the general body. They were candid and judicious enough to own these men, without approving everything in them. They perceived, that, with all their supposed or real faults, they had an earnestness in their manner, with strokes of fancy, touches of passion, striking metaphors, plain anecdotes, hold addresses and characteristic applications to the conscience, which might he detached from their accompanying improprieties, and adopted in an improved state, in combination with elements of their own. Accordingly, these soon displayed, in addition to their own superior learning, accuracy, and order, an ease and a liveliness which, as ministers, they knew not before.

And it is this union, so to speak, of the Dissenter and Methodist, that has produced the better style of preaching than either of them had separately attained. They have corrected and improved each other; and introduced freedom without irregularity, arrangement without stifihess, animation without violence, soberness without dulness, solemnity without sanctimoniousness, readiness without rapidity, and plainness without vulgarity.

With regard to subjects; — what I have always deemed the best kind of preaching is neither highly doctrinal nor drily practical; but distinguished by what I should call eoDperimentality, or a constant blending of the doctrine and practice of the gospel strongly with the affections and feelings. Many of our northern divines have been sadly deficient here. Their sermons have had theology enough in them, and were well methodized; but there was little in them to rend or to melt. How much of “The Scotch Preacher’^ (not the last) might be read through without the troublesomeness of a single emotion! There was an extreme among the “Marrow Divines,^^ and a mode of evangelical composition which for a good while obtained there, best denominated, perhaps, by the term” luscious.^^ In many instances, preaching is now getting towards the right medium in Scotland; and our brethren there, with the talents and learning which distinguish them, are likely to become, generally, able ministers of the New Testament, not of the head only but also of the heart.

There is nothing against which a preacher should be more guarded than length. “Nothing/^ says Lament,” can justify a long sermon. If it be a good one it need not be long; and if it be a bad one it ought not to be long.^^ Luther, in the enumeration of nine qualities of a good preacher, gives as the sixth, — ^’ That he should know when to stop.^^ Boyle has an essay on patience under long preaching. This was never more wanted since the Commonwealth than now, in our own day, especially among our young divines and academics, who seem to think their performances can never be too much attended to. I never err this way myself but my conviction always laments it; and for many years after I began preaching I never offended in this way. I never exceeded three-quarters of an hour at most. I saw one excellency was within my reach — it was brevity, and I determined to attain it.

I am, &c.