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THE V^^,. .^v^.v't
JOY OF THE MINISTRY.
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ENDEAVOUR TO INCREASE THE EFFICIENCY
AND DEEPEN THE HAPPINESS OF
PASTORAL WORK,
BY THE REV.
FREDERICK R. WYNNE, M.A.,
CANON OF CHRIST CHURCH, AND INCUMBENT OF
ST. MATTHIAS', DUBLIN.
SECOND THOUSAND.
HODDER AND STOUGHTON,
27, PATERNOSTER ROW.
MDCCCLXXXVII.
{^All rights reserved.)
Printed by Hazell, Watson, & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury.
CONTENTS,
CHAPTER I.
THE JOY OF THE MINISTRY.
Country work— External pleasantness — Air, exercise, each
day's "walking tour" — Varying views — Interesting
scenes — Cheering welcomes — Happy spiritual efforts —
City work— The '* wealth of souls "—Each street linked
with happy memories— Valued friends — Public preaching
— Winning souls — Human sympathy often — Christ's
sympathy always — The crown of glory • • i •
CHAPTER n.
PERSONAL QUALIFICATIONS FOR THE MINISTRY
FAITH.
Nature of pastoral office— Intellectual faith— Doubts and per-
plexities : how far they unfit for the office, how far they
may cling to the earnest believer — Morbid doubts and
healthy questionings— Mind inquiring, horizon widening,
mental perspective changing — Great lines of truth un-
alterable—Heart-faith— Varieties in religious history, one
essential, individual communion with Christ — Secret of
unction in teaching and preaching— Spiritual exercise
needed to keep faith fresh— Religious dangers in religious
work — Safeguard in the secret Presence . . • • ^4
vi Contents,
CHAPTER III.
PERSONAL QUALIFICATIONS FOR THE MINISTRY
THE LOVING SPIRIT.
PAGE
Delicacy of pastoral work — Heart-secrets — Close intimacy —
Sacred sorrows — Only love gives needful delicacy of heart
— '* Faithful," but hateful clergyman — Clerical mannerism
— Difficulties in loving — Uninteresting parishioners —
Helps in loving— Feeling ourselves sent to our people
— Thought of their infinite destiny — St. Paul's example —
Thought of the Saviour's love — Loving actions — Prayer
for love — Pi'ayer for the people ..... 28
CHAPTER IV.
THE WARRIOR SPIRIT.
Apparent quietness, real battle of clerical life — Each day's work
a campaign — The pastor a leader — Reproof and rebuke-
Plain speaking — Independence— INIisery of vacillation —
Clearness and decision in public — Holy boldness in per-
sonal intercourse — Temptations to shrink from difficult
duties — Desire to please rather than to profit — Dread of
awkwardness and unpleasantness — Cultivation of soldier
spirit — Instinctive obedience to duty — Caution against
bluster and swagger — Troublesome valorousness of weak
man— Difference between boldness and hardness — Bold-
ness strengthened, yet softened, by love , ... 41
CHAPTER V.
THE LABOURER.
Temptations to indolence in pastoral work — Facility of giving
mock work — Easy-going popular clergymen — Need of
self-examination — Confession of indolence to the Master
— Work should be reasonable — Fuss and hurry hinder
usefulness — Quality of work more important than quantity
— Method and order — Conscientious forethought —
Arrangement of time — Due proportion to various branches
of work — Parish books and statistics — Programme of
each day's work — System careful, but elastic ; to help, not
to bind 50
Contents, vii
CHAPTER VI.
HINTS FOR THE STUDY.
PAGE
Study a branch of parochial work, not a rival to it — Special
dangers of cultured members of our flocks — The uncul-
tured clergyman's difficulties in helping them— Simplicity
of speech and mental cultivation— Imperfect education
and tawdry rhetoric— Division of labour between study
and parish— Subjects of our reading :— I. Holy Scripture
—Thoughtful study of it— Search for God's teaching to
the heart— The frame and the picture— Danger of mere
" text-theology "—Mind attuned to Divine teaching-
Study for others— Study for ourselves— Sacred seasons for
listening to the Divine voice.— H. Evidences of religion
—Difficulties of modern thought— Means of helping.—
III. Dogmatic theology — God's Revelation and man's
thoughts— Sympathy with human difficulties, mistakes, and
struggles.— IV. Ecclesiastical history— History of Chris-
tian thought — Unity and continuity of Christ's Church —
Study of Church histoiy counteracts "parochialism."—
V. Mental and moral philosophy.— VI. Natural science
—Investigation of facts— Gives calmness of thought-
Counteracts bigotry, dogmatism, intolerance. — VII. Gene-
ral literature— Relaxation— Culture of mind— Facilitates
utterance — Sympathy with the brotherhood of humanity
—Caution— " One thing needful "—Danger of literary
ostentation— Unity in varied studies through spiritual
aims.— VIII. Advantage of having always one solid book
on hand "3
CHAPTER VII.
ON THE KNEES.
Prayer the link between outdoor and indoor work— Human
poAverlessness to change human hearts — Faith in the
reality of prayer — Involved in the reality of God — Pray-
ing to keep pace with working— Prayer for each person
spoken to— The "House of Prayer "—Services of the
Church— Sacraments of the Lord Jesus— Notes in sanc-
tuary ministration, reverence, love, joy . . • "94
viil Contents.
CHAPTER VIIL
IN THE PULPIT. PART I. THE SERMON MATTER.
PAGE
The messenger and the tidings—" Preaching Christ "—The
manifestation of God— Awakening the conscience— Ana-
lysis of heart motives— Exhibition of God's standard —
Warnings— Questionings— Need of keeping the body
awake — Danger of duhiess— The snore in the pew and the
snore in the pulpit — Need of skill as well as earnestness —
Vehemence fatiguing — Study to interest — Variety, change
of style, illustration — All to waken conscience— The glad
tidings— The old but ever new story— Gospel proclama-
tion— Stirring the will to holy action — Righteousness the
great end of the Gospel io6
CHAPTER IX.
IN THE PULPIT. PART II. THE MANNER OF
OUR PREACHING.
Brevity— Unity — Well-considered arrangement — Good and
bad division — Diverging and converging lenses — Danger
of monotony in character of preaching — Monotony in each
sermon — Light and shade — Reason and passion — Prepa-
ration of sermons — Written or "extempore" — Laying
out the lines — Mental gaze at people while preparing —
Dominant position of conclusion — Delivery — Self-forget-
fulness — Self-possession — Looking at congregation —
Management of voice — Concluding prayer . • ,120
CHAPTER X.
REACHING YOUNG HEARTS.
Work among the young — Its importance, hopefulness, happi-
ness—]ts difficulties — Schools, classes— Young men-
Young women — An assemblage of children — What is to
be taught ? — Definite aim— Making the lesson pleasant —
Weariness leads to turbulence— Order kept by brightness
in teaching — Interest the understanding — Keep the mind
busy — Strike home to heart and conscience . . . 147
Contents. ix
CHAPTER XL
THE SICK-ROOM.
PAGH
Twofold work, to comfort, to profit — Twofold power,
human sympathy and Divine truth — Sympathy cannot
be counterfeited — Sought and found at the Source of love
— Skilful application of the word — Many lessons — Great
result, consolation — Christ's tenderness — God's absolution
— Eternal life — Helping sufferer to learn his lessons —
Using the opportunity — Heart to heart relation between
pastor and patient — Care not to fatigue the body — One
definite lesson for each visit — Example of ' * visitation
service " — Order in our successive lessons — Prayer — Visi-
tation service again our model — " Extempore " prayer —
Holy Communion — Preparation for death , • .162
CHAPTER XII.
FROM HOUSE TO HOUSE.
A'aried scenes — Same drama of life — Where visits most needed
— Objects in visiting : — ist. Acquaintance with our people
— The Confessional — The model pastor — 2nd. Material
assistance — Its duty — Its dangers — 3rd. Gathering to the
means of grace — Seeking the lost sheep — God's call to the
erring — 4th. Personal dealing — Tending the flock — Indi-
vidual cases — Spirit and manner of visiting — Order and
method — Parochial lists— Sympathy, yet earnest watchful-
ness over our people — Watchfulness over ourselves —
Temptations in visiting — Delivering the message — Read-
ing and prayer, how far expedient — The word in season . 181
PREFACE.
I HOPE the word "Endeavour" will prevent
the title of this little book from sounding too
ambitious. To increase the efficiency and deepen
the joy of pastoral work is, I know, an achieve-
ment great beyond human power to accomplish.
But it is not too great to aim at. And I have
to call the book what it really is. It is written
for the purpose of helping our younger fellow-
labourers in the ministry to do their work, and
to enjoy their work. This we can at least try
to do for one another. No doubt each heart,
each life, each ministerial career has its own
peculiar difficulties. It has secrets of personal
trial, struggle, need, with which no stranger can
intermeddle, and in which no one can help except
the great Helper. But, to a very real degree, it
is granted to those who are labouring for God
to be able to strengthen the hands of those who
labour along with them. As we tell each other of
xii Preface,
our experiences, as we warn each other against the
dangers we have found hurtful to ourselves, and
encourage each other by describing the supports
by which we have been strengthened, and the
gladness which has made sunshine in our own
lives, we do bring to each other very material
help.
One workman cannot give to his fellow-worker
the strength of hand, clearness of sight, wisdom
of heart, with which skilled labour has to be
carried on ; from the Creator, and not from the
fellow-creature, these gifts must come. But he
can give his comrade many a useful hint, show
him in many a little way how his work can best
be got through, and cheer and guide his apprentice
efforts by sympathy and counsel. To endeavour
to do this for each other is surely our right, our
duty, and our privilege. I claim the right and
exercise the privilege as I send out these pages
among my brethren, hoping that the spirit in
which they receive them will cause the little
" endeavour " to be for many hearts a real
success.
Some of the suggestions in the earlier chapters
on " the personal qualifications for the ministry,"
I have given in a previous work.* But I could
* "The Model Parish."
Preface. xiii
not help repeating the substance of them here.
With changing years our ideas on many subjects
become changed or modified. But as to the
great motives for Christian Hfe and Christian
work, I can truly say, that as time goes on, I
only feel a deeper sense of their necessity, an
increasing desire that they may occupy a larger
space in my own heart and the hearts of my
brethren.
The successive chapters in this book were pre-
pared as addresses to a party of Divinity students
and young clergymen, who have been in the habit
of meeting together during the university terms at
my house. Already, almost before the echoes of
the spoken words have died away, the hearers of
them are scattered abroad in many parishes and
many lands. They will be glad, I am sure, if these
pages meet their eye, to be reminded of happy
evenings, and earnest conversations with friends
and fellow-students, when our hearts burned within
us as we " took sweet counsel together " concern-
ing our work and our battle for our Master. As
the addresses were prepared for beginners in the
ministry, my elder brethren will excuse their con-
taining suggestions that are, perhaps, to riper
experience, too obvious to need mention. Still,
as from the first day of our ministry till we pass
xiv Preface,
to the service on high, we have all essentially the
same work to do, the same Person to make known,
the same human heart to deal with among our
people, and to watch over with ourselves, I
venture to hope that these addresses to our
younger fellow-labourers may bring some help
and cheer even to those who, like myself, have
grown grey in the glorious work.
And help we elder ones verily need after all
our years of service. If time makes our work
easier in some ways, in others it makes it
harder. The spiritual vision is apt to grow
dim, and spiritual efforts to fall into routine.
Practice, indeed, makes it easier to speak and
preach. Long experience gives judgment in
dealing with mankind ; but the fire on the
altar sometimes burns low, the smouldering
embers need to be stirred from time to time,
so that the flame may burst forth again with
quickened vigour, and souls may be kindled by
the glow of our enthusiasm, as well as lives
directed by our maturing wisdom.
If this little book should touch the heart of
some toiling, and perhaps weary, fellow-labourer
here or there, and, calling attention to spirit-
stirring truths long known, but in the routine
of daily life rather fading out of notice, should
Preface. xv
rouse it to a fresh start of happy energy in
our dear Lord's service, the author, though he
may never on earth know the comrade he has
helped, will thank God hereafter for such a
precious crown of success.
F. R. W.
CHAPTER I.
THE JOY OF THE MINISTRY.
T7RIENDS and fellow-labourers, — My object
^ in the following pages is to help you in
your work. I want to show you, as far as I
can, what the work is, the qualifications for it
the difficulties and responsibilities of it, and the,
best way of carrying it out with vigour and
efficiency. But I shall occupy this preliminary
chapter in speaking of the joy that brightens
the toil you are undertaking. If you were about
to guide a traveller over a difficult mountain
pass, you might wish to encourage him before-
hand by telling him of the pleasures and glories
as well as of the difficulties of the walk ; and
I should wish, before entering into the considera-
tion of the anxious and laborious efforts of
ministerial life, to cheer you by a short descrip-
tion of its very real delight.
Most emphatically I declare my conviction that
1
The Joy of the Ministry.
he who, feeUng himself called by Providence and
the Spirit of God, undertakes the office of a clergy-
man in the Church of Christ, undertakes not only
a good but a delightful work. For my own part,
if I had to choose again a hundred times my
course in life, I should choose the ministry. It is
not only that necessity is laid upon me — that I
should have to say, " Woe is me if I preach not
the Gospel "-7— it is not only that 1 feel my Master's
call commanding me, and the needs and dangers
of my brethren pressing on me — it is not only that
there is a constant impulse and instinct urging me
(whether I like it or not) to try to make the light
of the glorious Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ
shine more brightly on human hearts amidst the
world's darkness and sin ; but it is also that I
have found ministerial work so full of interest and
joy, that every other employment would seem dull
in comparison. I believe there is no profession
where the drama of life is so varied as in the
Christian ministry. There is in it constant move-
ment, thrilling pathos, breathless interest. Issues
of tremendous importance are at stake. Work of
the most varied kind has to be done. Human
nature in all its forms and aspects has to be
dealt with. Sympathy and companionship, sweet
brotherhood and sisterhood in labour, brighten
The Joy of the Ministry.
all its action ; and underneath its eager and
interesting struggles, its passion of hope and
fear, its triumphs of success and catastrophes of
failure — underneath all there is deep repose, calm
heart-satisfying rest.
Our work indeed, as I hope to show more
fully by-and-by, is work, and not play. We
must make up our minds for real, tough unsenti-
mental labour, both of body and mind. " Preach-
ing the Gospel " is a very sublime thing in theory ;
but a young clergyman sitting down to write
his sermon when ideas won't come, and the sen-
tences (no matter how he turns them) refuse
to express his meaning, is, like a schoolboy at
his exercise, almost driven to tears. And there
are often several sermons to be preached in a
week ; and there are rainy days ai;d dirty
lodgings, and long trudges through mud or
snow to unsatisfactory patients ; and there are
long stories from prosy people to be listened
to ; and there are critical and quarrelsome pa-
rishioners, and troublesome school-children, and
obstinate and ignorant churchwardens, and domi-
neering rectors, or (more terrible still !) rectors'
wives, and uncongenial fellow-curates, and huffy
organists, and unmanageable choir singers. Nc
dreamy bed of roses is a clergyman's position.
The Joy of the Ministry.
It has its petty worries and it has its heavy
toils. And " the sorrow of others " often casts
its shadow upon his life. He has to be almost
every day in the "house of mourning." His
blessed office is to bring to the heavy-laden
and broken-hearted consolation from his Master.
And if he is a real messenger of Christ, if he
is a real friend and brother to his people, and
not a mere machine for grinding out consolatory
phrases, his own heart will often bleed, as he
goes to comfort his brethren. It will be im-
possible for him to lighten their burden without
sharing its heaviness himself ; and often will
the tears
" Rise in tlie heart, and gather in the eyes,"
as he thinks of the weeping faces he has been
looking into, and the sorrowful stories he has
been listening to, and the bereaved and death-
stricken homes he has been visiting.
Still, notwithstanding these shadows across his
path, and these rough places on his road, I
maintain that the pastor's life is full of joy.
Even externally its work has much pleasant-
ness. In the country there are the walks or
rides through the fresh air, as you go from cot-
tage to cottage. In one you sit down before
the fire, and father and mother, young men and
The Joy of the Ministry, 5
maidens, gather round to speak to " the mini-
ster," and listen to his words. In the next
your visit is stiller and sadder, but with a touch-
ing pathos of its own. You are brought into
the little back room, where, on the bed, covered
with its patchwork quilt, there lies some poor
sufferer — a fair girl perhaps, with the bright
eyes and hectic flush of consumption ; or the
aged grandmother, with grey locks and wrinkled
face, stretching out her thin brown hand to grasp
3-ours with tremulous eagerness ; or the father
of the family — the bread-winner — prostrate with
sickness, but grateful for your visit, and anxious
to listen to your message.
Blessings follow you as you leave the home
where the simple people have been cheered in
their sadness, and comforted in their pain, by
prayer and " the ministry of the Word."
So you go from house to house ; sometimes
shown into stiff and stuffy parlours, sometimes
sitting down on the three-legged stool in the
cottage or cabin, sometimes paying a visit in the
refined atmosphere of the country gentleman's or
nobleman's drawing-room, sometimes fighting your
way through barking dogs to the farmer's door.
So you go on, splashed and muddy no doubt,
but invigorated in body by exercise, and interested
The Joy of the Ministry.
in heart by varied spiritual work ; and as you re-
turn in the quiet evening, the calm of the amber
sunset under the painted clouds harmonises well
with the glow of happy thankfulness which floods
your heart as you look back on your day's work
for God among brethren and sisters.
Each pastoral round has the zest of a walking
tour. Those lanes, how pleasant they are in
summer, with their garlands of wild roses and
honeysuckle. The high road is long and dusty,
but we can step along it with vigorous strides,
and pause from time to time to chat with groups
of poor but hearty friends going to market, or
children tripping to school. Then we can leave
it occasionally, and strike across the fields, and
enjoy the repose of a ramble by the meadow
banks, and the excitement of a voyage of dis-
covery over hedge and ditch. And in the wild
moors what wealth of flowers we have under
our feet ! The purple butterwort, the starry
asphodel, the aromatic bog myrtle, " banks where
the wild thyme grows," and forests of heather
with the bees busy and musical in their blossoms.
As we toil over these many-coloured plains, and
watch the soft blue hills in the distance, seeming
to float over the aerial haze on the horizon,
or as we breast the shoulder of the hill to reach
The Joy of the Afinisliy.
some little lonely cottage that stands with its
two or three fir trees like the advanced guard
of civilization in the midst of rock and heather
and gorse, how many trains of thought are we
able to follow out, and how marvellously are
the ideas suggested by our morning's study of
books enriched and enlarged by this intimate
" converse with nature."
Truly if in after years we are called by the
providence of God to work for Him in a city,
often will our thoughts go back with yearnings
akin to regret from the narrow streets and noisy
thoroughfares to our quiet rambles in the breezy
and wide-horizoned country.
But even in the city the joy follows us. The
trees, the meadows, the flowers are vanished, but
there is the " wealth of souls." To what numbers
of immortal beings we are privileges to minister |
What interesting varieties of character we become
acquainted with ! Delightful as it is to study
the beautiful works of God in outward nature,
yet it must ever be true that " the noblest study
for mankind is man." These streets that at first
looked so dull and hard, soon come to have
associations for our minds more sweet than the
fragrance of the new-mown hay, more beautiful
than the tints of the wayside flowers. In that
8 The Joy of tJie Ministry.
gloomy brick house there is a group of merry
children, who love to gather round us, and cling
to our hands. In the next there is a mourning
family, with whose tears our own have often
mingled. Here a dying sufferer lies, with the
radiance of heavenly peace and joy on the wan
face. This evening light comes from the window
of an earnest student, whose spiritual struggles
we have shared, and whose intellectual difficulties
we have helped to clear. Here is the buzz o^
the busy school-house, where day by day we
teach the grand truths of God's revelation to
fresh young hearts.
As the years pass by, every street becomes
linked with some hallowed memory. Not a step
can we take in our district without being reminded
of loved and valued friends, friends who have
laboured with us in God's work ; friends whom
we have been enabled to guide and cheer in
the battle of life ; friends by whose bedside we
have knelt in sickness, and whose last sighs we
have received in death. Verily these happy
human associations make the wilderness of brick
and mortar to " rejoice and blossom as a rose."
And then the public preaching of the Word —
it has its difficulties, its anxieties, we might
almost say its agonies ; but through and above
J he Joy of the Ministry.
all, has it not its joy ? Look at all those up-
turned faces. Think of the immortal spirits, the
infinite destinies, the eventful histories — histories
of joy and of sorrow, of struggle, success, and
failure — represented by each one of them. Look
at those hard countenances softening, those gentle
eyes glistening, those children's faces beaming
with interest. See how God's message can
awaken and attract and touch. Think of how
the words He has given you to speak bring into
the lives of these listeners elements of renovation,
of comfort, of hope, of strength. As you see the
great congregation hushed in earnest attention
while you reason with them, plead with them, and
declare to them the glad tidings of your embassy,
is there not, even in the midst of your anxiety
and consciousness of weakness, is there not a joy
vivid and intense, like the mother's joy amidst
her labour pangs }
But above all other joys in the ministry is the
joy of being able to hope that you have won
souls for Christ. We meet with much dis-
couragement indeed, much disappointment. And
when we consider what we are, is it any wonder }
But I believe that every earnest minister of Christ
is, sooner or latter, in one way or another, blessed
to many hearts. And it is often given to him to
lo The Joy of the Ministry.
know this even on earth. Sometimes, and in
some positions, the harvest seems rich. And
many rise up to thank him for leading them
to know the reality of their own sin, and the
reahty of their Saviour's love. Sometimes the
seed seems longer underground, or seems to be
most of it carried away by " the fowls of the air."
But he who patiently, laboriously, and prayer-
fully strives to press the Gospel of the Lord
Jesus home to men's hearts and consciences,
never has his labour in vain in the Lord. And
the joy of success in this work of ours is a joy
almost awful in its intensity. You have been
attending for weeks at some bed of sickness ; the
patient, who had been ignorant and downcast and
irritable at the beginning, has been first soothed
and comforted by your teaching, then awakened,
enlightened, led to know and trust the Lord
Jesus, and is at the close of the solemn season
quietly resting on the Saviour's love, and bowing
to the Father's will. As the poor wan face
lights up at your approach ; as you find that
your visits are the bright spots in the patient's
long day ; as you find that you have been
the means of bringing to that soul gladness and
peace in this world, and a sure hope for eternity
do you not feel a joy " too deep for tears " \
The Joy of the Ministry. 1 1
And when you find the same testimony borne by
many, both in sickness and in health, in youth
and in age ; when it is expressed by the
moistened eye, and the brotherly grasp of the
hand, and the broken and agitated words ; when,
though you hardly dare to believe it, it is brought
home to your heart that you have been used by
the Most High to rescue souls from sin, to
confirm them when wavering and undecided, and
to convey to them the precious gift of everlasting
life, is not the sense of honour and privilege
almost greater than you can bear ? Do you not
cry out, "What am I, O my Lord, that Thou
shouldest do such wondrous things by my
hand ? "
This joy is indeed mingled with many conflict-
ing emotions. If some souls for whom you
longed have been won, many for whom you have
longed equally seem still among the erring and
straying. And while people are thanking you
for the good you have done them, you feel with
shame how much evil there is in yourself, how
much lower is the state of your heart and life
than the tone of your words. And even as they
praise, you feel that if they knew all — all the
cowardice and indolence and inconsistency that
have marred the very efforts for which they are
1 2 The Joy of the Ministry.
thankful — not praise, but reproach, would be
your portion. Thus you sympathise with the
poet's aspiration —
" Pray we our God one pang to send
Of deep remorseful fear
For every smile of partial friend ;
Praise be our penance here. "
Still, whatever you are yourself, to have souls
won for Christ, and for goodness and for heaven,
is a substantial cause for gladness. And to the
Saviour Himself you tell the secret faults that
oppress you : and you know that He forgives all
the sin, and accepts all the service. You know
that He loves you with the love of human
brotherhood, as well as of Divine compassion.
You know that, as you go out to your daily toil,
you have His constant sympathy. As you
hesitate in awkwardness or nervousness. He
sympathises with your difficulty. If the winged
words come, and you are able to speak home to
brothers', or sisters' hearts. He sympathises with
your success.
Your work is a work for Him and with Him.
He sends you out, and He goes with you. He
counts you not His servant, but His friend. He
encourages you to tell Him all things. He loves
you when you get on well in your work ; and
when you get on badly He loves you still. Oh !
The Joy of the Ministry. 1 3
if you believe He is really what the Gospel
declares Him to be, must not your work as His
messenger be steeped in joy ?
Often your imaginative powers are too feeble
to realize the happiness. You have to plod on,
doing what you know to be right, saying what
you know to be true, without feeling anything
very particular. But the joy is there, like the
music of a rippling stream, sometimes forgotten,
sometimes in the clatter of life flowing on
unnoticed, but flowing on night and day through
cloud and sunshine with its liquid melody, flowing
on ever. So your joy remains, giving a sense of
rest and peace amidst the varying emotions of
the heart. You are trying day by day to carry
out the will of the Master who is dear to you.
You are trying to be of real use to brothers
and sisters who are dear to you too. They often
appreciate your efforts ; He always does. They
cheer you often with their spoken sympathy ; His
unuttered and unutterable love never ceases.
They give you the delightful reward sometimes of
letting you see in changed and elevated lives the
fruit of your labour on earth. He promises, in
spite of all your failures and mistakes, that "when
the chief Shepherd shall appear, you shall receive
a crown of glory that fadeth not away."
CHAPTER II.
PERSONAL QUALIFICATIONS FOR THE MINISTRY:
FAITH.
T N order to do a thing well, it is of primary
-■- importance to know what it is that is to be
done. As ministers of Christ's Gospel, what have
we to do }
Our office has manifold duties ; we have to
comfort the sorrowful, to instruct the ignorant, to
stir up slumbering consciences, to guide and direct
earnest inquirers, to encourage and stimulate
people of all kinds in holiness of life ; we have
to administer sacred ordinances, to lead the worship
of the assembled people, to kneel by the bedside
of the sick and dying, to bury the dead. But
through and amidst all these varied offices we
have one great duty. It is to make known God,
as He has been revealed in Jesus Christ, to cause
Him to be trusted, lovedp and honoured by as
many as we can in any way reach or influence.
Faith,
15
We come to men in this material world as mes-
sengers from the great unseen God. Ambassadors
for Christ, with a commission from Him, with
invitations from Him, warnings from Him, promises
from Him — such is our awful position.
I. It is plain, then, that the very first qualifi-
cation for our work must be faith in the message
we have to deliver. Though we should speak
with the tongues of men and angels, if we did not
believe what we were saying, it would be better
for us to hold our peace. Better to be a " dumb
dog " than a hypocrite or an actor. No man
should dare to stand up in the church as an
ambassador from God, unless he is thoroughly
convinced of the truth of that revelation of God
which we call " the Gospel."
Some young clergymen are fond of parading
what they call " honest doubts." They think that
a little flavour of rationalism is a sign of a strong
mind. It seems to me to be neither a strong nor
an honest proceeding to take pay for teaching
what you are not sure is true. A man may feel
much hesitation as to accepting the Gospel records;
his mind may be in painful suspense between evi-
dence on one side and difficulties on the other ;
he may have this conflict and wrestling going on
within him, and be a perfectly sincere and earnest
1 6 Personal Qualifications :
man. But while such a state of suspense lasts,
he is unfit to be ordained as a preacher. Let him
first be thoroughly persuaded in his own mind.
Let the difficulties be resolutely faced, grappled
with, wrestled with. When they are overcome,
the man will be all the stronger to teach. He
will know all the better how to help those who
are in mental perplexity. But while the battle is
undecided, though the combatant may do his duty
and pray to God, and trust Him in heart amidst
intellectual difficulties, he is manifestly unfit to
go forth among his brethren as a herald of the
Gospel.
Let me make myself plain. There are some
men who, from the character of their mental con-
stitution, will always be liable to the recurrence of
painful doubts. They may nevertheless be sincere
and earnest believers. The very fact of their feel-
ing Christ's religion to be the hope and joy of
their life will raise up ever and anon morbid
questionings as to the reality of the foundation
upon which all that they hold dear depends. But
they can honestly teach what they know to be
true, although shadows of constitutional scepticism
blur and dim it sometimes to their own vision.
They would die a thousand deaths for the Gospel,
though it sometimes seems to their anxious and
Faith, 1 7
longing hearts as if it were only a beautiful but
unsubstantial dream. Again, we may be thorough
believers in the truth of God's revelation, and yet
retain the position of inquirers all our lives.
Every man whose intellect is not paralysed or
crusted over by prejudice must retain that position.
The thoughtful, active mind cannot help consider-
ing and weighing every idea that comes before it.
And as we advance in experience and in large-
ness of knowledge both of men and things, and as
the passionate prejudices of youth are gradually
left behind, our convictions on many points are
apt to be modified. Some views that were once
cherished with eagerness are felt to be exaggerated
or untenable. As we rise higher in power of
thought, the horizon widens. Things that used to
seem large diminish. Things in heaven and earth
that were not dreamed of in our philosophy gra-
dually come into view. The perspective changes
with the point of vision. But the great convictions
of the soul, the grand lines of truth, the sky-
reaching mountains on their eternal foundations, ,
remain unchanged. The earnest thinker has the
same faith as the little child. With all his in-
creased knowledge, his enlarged and enlarging
ideas, his perception of old mistakes and glimpses
of ne'v vistas into truth, he still says with the
2
1 8 Personal Qualifications :
same fervour as he said it at his mother's knee,
" I believe in God the Father Almighty, and in
Jesus Christ His only Son our Lord."
II. But the kind of faith needed for our work is
not merely the conviction of the understanding,
but more especially what is called "heart-faith."
Never will there be the genuine "ring" in our
Gospel preaching till we have felt in our own
spirits the thrill of the good news. Nothing has
power with men like the persuasive force that
comes from personal experience. " That which
we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked
upon, which our hands have handled of the word
of life, that declare we unto you, that ye may have
fellowship with us." Here was the spring of the
Apostles' energy, and one of the secrets of their
success. They spoke not about matters which
they theoretically approved of, but about those
which they had actually experienced. The same
cause gives energy still, and still procures success.
If the sinfulness of man, salvation by the blood of
Christ, and the offering up of self in God's service,
if these are with you only theories, you may preach
orthodox sermons, and be admired as a sound
expositor of Scripture, but you will not bring
many souls to the Saviour. There is something in
the tone of personal conviction that cannot well
Faith. 1 9
be imitated. There may be great differences in
the reHgious history of different persons. Religious
conviction with some is gradual, growing with
their growth, and strengthening with their strength ;
with others it is sudden and rapid, bursting out
like the blaze of day in the tropic morning. But
however this may have been with you, not till
there has been the wrestling against evil in your
own soul, and the looking up amidst the strife
and conflict to the loving face of the Saviour, and
the relief of resting your soul upon Him, and the
interesting effort to please Him day by day, not
till then will there be any of what St. Augustine
calls " unctioji " in your preaching.
You sometimes hear a young clergyman
delivering himself of a sermon. It is very nice ;
every word of it is true. The ideas are sensible,
and placed together in very suitable order. But,
without wishing to judge, you feel instinctively
that the sermon will do nobody any good. In
fact , it seems hardly meant to do so. It seems
meant to say what is nice and proper, and what
every one will approve of. It does that, and it
does nothing more. Every one goes away saying,
" that was a nice sermon of Mr. Green's,'' and
every one forgets all about it before he reaches
home. But a year afterwards you happen to hear
20 Personal Qualifications :
the same preacher ; you can hardly believe it is
the same. It is not that he has grown cleverer.
It is not that he has improved in the art of
composition. Perhaps his sentences are not quite
so well formed. Perhaps there is hardly as much
fluency and self-possession in his manner. But
now he preaches like a man who is in earnest-
He has something that he wants to say, and
wants to say it as strongly and as warmly as he
can. He is looking at his audience, and evidently
wanting them to think of something and feel
something ; and they are not remarking on the
propriety of his demeanour and the niceness of
his sentences, but are evidently touched and
impressed by what he is saying to them.
Whence comes the difference } What has made
that stiff and properly conducted young gentle-
man change so quickly into an earnest evangelist }
How comes it that instead of being like a big
schoolboy reading his carefully prepared " theme,"
he is a man speaking to men, and really
grappling with their consciences } How comes
it that, instead of putting together orthodox
doctrines in neatly turned sentences, he is
speaking with living words of a living Person,
" a great God and a Saviour " }
The answer is simple, His own heart has
Faith. 1 1
been awakened ; he has learnt to know and
hate his own sins. He has felt the unreality
and hollowness, the mere professionalism, of his
life. He has cast himself in real humiHation
at his Saviour's feet. He has poured out to
Him the confession of his failures. He has found
the sweet rest of believing in His pardon. This
experience of the reality of Christ's Gospel in
his own heart gives fervour and simplicity and
strength to his teaching.
Let me press this thought home to the
conscience of each of my brothers before going
farther. You have to preach about the Lord
Jesus Christ to others. Do you know Him
yourself.'* Has there been real heart dealing
between you and Him } When you come as
an ambassador of God to awaken the careless,
and to guide anxious inquirers, and to comfort
the sorrowful, will you be able to speak about
a Saviour with whom you have become ac-
quainted by personal experience } Is not this
the very first qualification for your work — a real
living faith in the Person whose message you are
to bring to your brethren }
HI. And faith in our unseen Lord has to
be the permanent habitual attitude of our own
souls. It is not past conviction, but present
2 1 Personal Qualifications :
conviction, that gives life to our words. As we
speak from day to day, and from month to
month, of the solemnities of eternity and the
comforts of our Lord's lovingkindness, it is
absolutely necessary to have echoing and re-
echoing within us the consciousness, " It is all
true ; what I am saying is as -real as my own
existence." This keeps our teaching fresh ;
prevents it from falling into the *' sing-song "
of an oft-repeated tale. For we have to go
on continually telling the " old, old story."
However we may vary the way of putting it,
the burden of our teaching must be the same
essential truth. If we have not our Christian
creed to tell of, we have no special message
from God. But we do not tire of telling it.
We tell it rather with ever-freshening fervour,
because the longer we live on it, the more we
feel it to be true. And as we tell a mortal man
that the eternal God loves him, and that his
sins have been borne on the cross of Christ, and
that the incarnate Saviour at God's right hand
feels for him, and has help to give him now, and
a crown of glory to give him hereafter, as we
tell this, and know that we are saying what is
profoundly true, is there not in our very words
and manner a fresh glow of sympathy with each
Faith. 2 3
individual to whom we repeat the wonderful
truth ? We speak with ever-renewing interest,
because we speak what we believe.
But there is no doubt that much spiritual
exercise is needful to keep up this ever fresh,
vivid faith. There is a great deal in our
ministerial work that tends to make faith dull.
You may be surprised at my saying this, but
I am sure it is the case. A religious profession
brings with it dangers to religion. We are
obliged to be always talking religiously. And
though this talking is both a necessity and
a duty, it is a snare. Much handling takes away
the bloom of the fruit and the freshness of the
flower ; and much talking about the Lord Jesus
and His love, and about heavenly hope, and
" peace and joy in believing," may easily inter-
fere with the simplicity and purity of these very
things in our own hearts. The devotion of a
soul to its unseen Lord is a delicate flower. It
loves shadow and quietness. In the glare of
publicity it droops. Draw aside the shading
leaves of humility and holy reserve, and the
lovely colours fade, and the exquisite fragrance
departs. So, likewise, as you go about from
house to house and person to person, speaking
of your Saviour, you may easily be led to speak
24 Personal Qualifications:
rather about yourself than about Him, and to
lay bare to others thoughts and experiences that
ought to be secrets between you and the Beloved
of your soul.
Truly, this duty of religious talking is fraught
with perils to our deepest spiritual life. And if
the talking may easily hurt the delicate growth
of that which is most precious within us, very
easily at the same time it may hide the injury
from our observation. We may be deceived by
the words of others, but no words have such
power of misleading as our own. However we
feel, we must talk earnestly. It is manifestly
our duty to do so ; for we have to speak of
things as we know they are, and not as we
happen to feel about them at the moment. And
when we have been preaching or speaking with
intensity and fervour, how hard to suppose that
we could be slackening in our own interest for
the things about which we have been so eloquent !
And yet such a calamity is quite possible. The
praise of men, the desire of their favour or ap-
proval, may have been insinuating itself between
our hearts and our Lord. His will. His service,
may have become less and less prominent in
our minds ; to please Him less and less the
great reward sought for ; and all the time His
Faith. 25
name may have been constantly on our lips,
spoken of always with the deepest enthusiasm.
And so the warmth of our words may conceal
from our conscience the dangerous cooling of
our hearts. And the good opinion of others
carries on the deception. A clergyman who is
externally laborious, and has warmth and zeal
of manner, is almost always highly thought of
by his people. Ah ! how ready they are to
credit us for infinitely more piety than we
possess ! Sometimes it terrifies us to perceive
on what a lofty pedestal their hero-worshipping
imagination has placed us. And there is great
danger that through our folly and vanity we
should take ourselves at their good-natured es-
timate. While they think us so earnest and
self-devoted, how easy to glide into the idea
that they are right ! While they give us their
obsequious and reverential "greetings in the
market-place," how natural for our pharisee
hearts to suppose ourselves the saints they
consider us ! They see nothing of our mixed
motives, and our self-seeking, and our world-
liness, and our heart inconsistency, and hence we
may pleasantly forget that such faults exist. On
account of these dangers specially besetting the
ministerial office, the clergyman needs very spe-
26 Pei'soiial Qualifications :
cially to stir up the gift that is in him by close
and frequent communion with the Lord. Above
all other men he requires faith in the unseen
to give vigour, reality, freshness to his daily and
hourly work. His work is speaking God's truth.
It must not be spoken in mechanical and con-
ventional language. It must be spoken, if it is
to be spoken aright, in words that come warm
from the heart. But his work in a very peculiar
way tends to chill that very heart-warmth. His
only remedy and safeguard is to be much in
the secret presence of the Lord Himself There
his strength will be renewed " like the eagle's."
There, in that holy sanctuary, the live coal from
the altar will be found to touch his lips, and
enable him to speak in words of fire. There,
in the light of that grand countenance he is
looking into, he will see his own deficiencies,
and yet see continually the mercy and love of
which he is to be the herald. There, alone with
his God, he can consider what he is working
for, and how he is carrying on the work. The
shadows of human praise and earthly reward
will shrink into their true insignificance. The
sublimity of the truths he has to witness to,
the preciousness of the souls he has to win and
watch over, will stand out in their real import-
Faith. 2 7
ance ; while at that unfailing fountain of strength
he can seek and find continually new supplies
of grace to quicken his soul's life, to increase
his faith, to warm and rouse his enthusiasm,
and to vivify, gladden, and refresh all his spiritual
energies.
CHAPTER III.
QUALIFICATIONS FOR THE MINISTRY:
A LOVING SPIRIT.
A "\ 7 HEN we considered our position as
' ' messengers from God and ambassadors
of the Lord Jesus Christ, we felt that the first
quaHfication for our work must be earnest heart-
faith in Him who sends us, and in the message
we have to deliver. We cannot speak of Him.
really, unless we believe thoroughly in what we
have to say about Him.
But as surely as we require faith in Him who
sends, so surely we require also love for those to
whom we are sent.
" God so loved the world, that He gave His
only begotten Son." "Jesus Christ loved His
church, and gave Himself for it." St. Paul
" travails in birth " for his people, till Christ be
formed in their hearts. A similar spirit should
A Loving Spirit. 29
be in every one who comes with God's message
to human souls. He must come to them not
only with God's word, but with something (in all
reverence be it spoken) of God's love. He
comes as a comforter, as a helper, as a herald o^
good news. He comes to persuade, to win, and
to warn. Can he effectually come on such an
errand if he does not care for those to whom
he comes }
His mission is a most delicate one. He has
often to hear heart-secrets poured out ; he has to
be present in the sacred hour of sorrow ; when
any one else would be counted an intruder, he
has to be as God's messenger of comfort in the
desolate home ; he has to stand with the husband
beside his dying wife ; he has to hold the poor
mother's hand while the body of her dead child
is lying cold and white upon the bed ; he has to
still the wail of the fatherless, and to lead the
desolate widow to Him who alone can support
and uphold her now. How vain for any one
to fill such an office, whose heart is not made
sensitive and delicate by the refining power of
real love ! If you do not care for the people
to whom you minister, you might as well stay-
away, and not disturb and weary them with your
official interference. If you have no love for
Qualifications for the Ministry :
them, you have no real ministry to offer them ;
better not mock them with a counterfeit.
There are some clergymen who pride them-
selves on being " faithful ; " but there is a
hardness about their tone, a self-sufficiency and
want of sympathy that makes their ministry
disagreeable and useless. How easily we picture
to ourselves this fussy loud-voiced parson, very
decided and dogmatic in his sermons, very
" clear " in his testimony against what he calls
error, very scathing in his denunciations of every-
body's sins, very diligent, but very detestable ;
making you cringe when you listen to him, and
slip away when you see him coming, making you
long to contradict everything he says, making
even the most sacred truth sound odious in his
mouth. Everybody says he is a very good man,
but everybody feels he is a very objectionable
man. And he is utterly unfit for the ministry of
the Gospel ; for he lacks that which is the
mainspring of the whole Gospel, the spirit of love.
He is " playing Hamlet with the part of Hamlet
left out."
May I venture to hint that young clergymen
often fail sadly on this important point } New
to themselves, new to their office, they are sorely
tempted to be self-occupied, to be busied in
A Loving Spirit. 31
thinking of their own dignity or their own
position, rather than of the souls of the people
to whom they are sent.
We all know the manner of a youth who has
just been put into his tailed coat. He cannot
forget his accession of dignity. Wherever he
goes, whatever he does, he is manifestly conscious
of the solemn appendage that he carries behind
him.
Is it too much to say that you are often
reminded of this by a certain mannerism that
hangs about young clergymen } Is it their
beautifully-cut clerical clothes and the starch of
their clerical stocks that stiffen their words and
looks 1 No, it is something from within, not
from without. It is the thought of self. Their
new office brings an accession of self-con-
sciousness. They have not entered the ministry
exactly from sordid motives, nor entirely without
thought, and prayer, and desire to do their duty
conscientiously ; but they have not entered it
from any real, yearning love for souls ; they have
not been impelled to it by any enthusiasm for
their Master's service ; there has been no earnest
purpose to go and spend and be spent for their
Lord among those He wants to have as " the
travail of His soul." They have only gone into
32 Qualifications for the Ministry:
the ministry as a suitable and respectable pro-
fession, and so they are mere professional men, and
carry with them the egotism and self-importance
of young professionals. And their chief thought
about their work is, " How am I behaving ? how
do I impress people ? how do I look ? how do my
words sound ? " rather than, " How can I help
these men and women ? what good can I do them ?
what comfort can I bring them ? with what hope
and strength and courage can I inspire them ? "
Take it as an axiom that you cannot help where
you do not love. But how are we to love ? It
is easy to like nice people, amiable, interesting,
and attractive people. Thank God we do meet
many such. There is not a parish, there is hardly
a family, where there are not some individuals
whom we could not help being interested in.
You are sent down to some out-of-the-way neigh-
bourhood ; you intend to do your duty, but you
expect to be rather lonely and friendless. You
are not there many weeks before you are surprised
to find that you have already several close friends.
Some of them may be in your own class of life ;
some of them among the poor and uncultured.
But they are people full of intelligence, with warm
hearts, with genial manners, with ready and re-
sponsive sympathy. It is pleasant to talk to
A Loving Spirit. 33
them, pleasant to look into their kindly faces,
pleasant to remember afterwards your conversa-
tions together, and perhaps your prayers together.
I have been in a great many different parishes, in
the north and in the south, in the country and in
the city, among " the aristocracy," among the poor
and among the middle-classes ; and in every place
where I have been, and among all classes, I have
met delightful friends, — people whom it was a joy
to know and have intercourse with at the time,
and to look back upon whom, through the long
perspective of bygone years, and to think of whose
brotherly or sisterly friendship is still a deep and
real joy, and will be, I am sure, "a joy for ever."
It is easy to be fond of such people. But there
are (it must be confessed) numbers of people who
to our natural tastes are not attractive. Indeed,
we cannot conceal from ourselves that they are
tiresome, uninteresting, and even repelling. And
as long as they appear to us in this light, our
ministry is very unlikely to help them. How are
our hearts to be warmed to the " uninteresting
people " } How are we to learn to love them, so
that we may come to them in public, in private, in
prosperity, in adversity, as messengers from the
pitiful Father and the tender Saviour }
I. Feeling that we are se7it to them helps us to
3
34 Qualifications for the Ministry :
care for them. There is an instinct in our hearts
by which anything particularly connected with
ourselves assumes in our eyes a particular interest-
Why is it said that, be it ever so lowly, there is
" no place like home " ? Because it is your own.
Your own friends, your own family, live there ;
your own occupations, joys, and sorrows cluster
around it. Sweeter than trellices of honeysuckle
and rose are the memories that cover it with their
tender associations: It is not brick and mortar,
wood and stone, that you see, but the centre of
infinite affections and innumerable interests. Even
the prosaic uniformity of the dull street-dwelling
is turned into poetry by the magic word " my
own." And when a set of people become by God's
providence your own flock, must they not be in-
vested for you with an infinite interest } I do not
say that this is the highest motive for caring for
them ; but in its place and its degree it is real and
natural. " These are my people. God has given
them to me to take care of. My employments,
my most earnest efforts, my joys and sorrows, are
to be associated with them. Must they not have
a very special place in my heart t Each one of
them has been entrusted to me to win for Christ,
or to keep for Christ. In some very real sense
each will be required at my hand." Can you look
A Loving Spirit. 35
on your parishioners thus without feeling a strong
link between your heart and theirs ?
2. Remind yourself also of the infinite destiny
before each parishioner. That dull old farmer,
whose talk is of bullocks ; that still duller old
woman, whose talk is of her own diseases ; that
dried-up spinster, most tiresome of all, whose talk
is of her enemies and of her ill-usage ; that awk-
ward and coarse-looking young man, who can talk
about nothing at all — has not every one of these
an immortal soul ? Is there not opening out before
each a vista of unending glory, or a tragedy of
ruin and misery too terrible to contemplate ? Can
you think of these awful alternatives, these tre-
mendous issues, without a yearning of love and
longing ? Can there be anything really dull or
commonplace about a life on which hinges an
eternal destiny ? Is there not an infinite pathos
or an infinite grandeur about these apparently
uneventful histories, in each of which a decision
has to be made, whose results will never end ?
How can I influence that decision ? What part
can I take in the solemn drama of that man's or
that woman's momentous existence ? In the pre-
sence of such a question, does not my first impres-
sion of dulness and lack of interest with regard to
these people seem childish and shallow ? The
36 Qualifications for the Ministry :
habit of thus contemplating all men and women
as on their probation for eternity tends greatly to
correct that superciliousness and superficiality of
youthful judgment with which we are apt to begin
our dealings with our fellow-creatures. " In me,"
says the poet, who had long been an earnest
student of nature,
" The meanest flower that blows
Awakens thought that often lies too deep for tears."
Does not the student of that grandest branch
of nature, humanity, find a like depth of interest
in the plainest and commonest human being.? Or.
rather, does he not learn to look on no human
being as " common".? The blue of the " forget-
me-not," the gold of the buttercup, the graceful
droop of the harebell, what are these in comparison
to the interest that lies behind the most coarse or
wrinkled face, which bears upon it the traces of sin
conquered, or sin committed, and carries with it
the prophecy of an eternity in heaven or in hell 1
3. Read the description of St. Paul's feelings
for the people among whom he labours, and his
example will help to stir and kindle your affec-
tions. " My little children, for whom I travail in
birth till Christ be formed in your hearts." " I
ceased not to warn every one of you night and
A Loving Spirit. 37
day with tears." " We were gentle among you,
even as a nurse cherisheth her children." " We
were willing to have imparted unto you, not the
Gospel of God only, but also your own souls,
because you were dear unto us." Would it not be
well often to study such expressions, and then to
ask the conscience, Could I honestly speak thus t
Is this the spirit in which I am labouring .!* Is
there in my heart anything of this travailing in
birth for my people, this almost anguish of
yearning, this readiness to spend and be spent for
them, no matter how they feel towards me ; this
willingness to impart to them even my own soul,
in my absorbing desire to do them good t
4. But the great power for stirring love to man
in our hearts is the thought of our Saviour's love.
If, by-and-by, when you go to your parish,
you are tempted to be indifferent and cold
about your people, inclined to go your rounds
of visiting, teaching, and preaching as a
matter of routine, a duty that must be done,
then remember how the Lord Jesus took upon
Him the form of a servant, and humbled Himself
to the death of the cross, for these very people.
Ah ! remember first how He loved you, and gave
Himself for you. Think of how He has borne with
all your folly and selfishness and mixed motives,
38 Qualifications for the Ministry :
and yet how He loves you still, and condescends to
use you. Then think how He came to seek and to
save these people. He loves them, He died for
them, He thinks of them, and pleads for them.
Can what He loves be indifferent to you } Does
not the example of His self-sacrificing kindness
make you ashamed of your selfish coldness t
Must you not feel it a privilege to devote your
affectionate care to those for whom He died ? Is
not the chief Shepherd " going before you," lavish-
ing among the poor feeble sheep the most
exquisite tenderness } Are you not drawn irresist-
ibly to follow in His steps, to go out and try to
help and tend every member of your flock with
something of that patient, tender, thoughtful,
special care with which He treats both yourself
and them t
5. But, with all our efforts, we cannot altogether
command our emotions. The will is indeed a
monarch in that inward realm of feeling ; but his
monarchy is a constitutional monarchy, and his
authority is limited by mental and physical laws.
But in the reign of action^ the will has a more
dictatorial sway. I cannot make myself feel thus
or thus, but I can make myself act thus or thus.
And the execution of a command in the outer and
more subject realm often causes it to be obeyed in
A Loving Spirit. 39
the inner. Therefore in order to cultivate loving
feelings towards those amongst whom we minister,
it is of great importance to practise amongst them
loving acts. You cannot get yourself all at once
to feel fond of that tiresome old woman, but you
can listen patiently to her story ; you may speak
a kindly, sympathising word to her ; you may
put yourself out of your way to do her some good.
I know, indeed, that love is a thing that cannot
be counterfeited. As it is itself the most beau-
tiful of graces so the imitation of it is the most
■hideous of affectations. Do not pretend to love
people whom you do not care for. Do not try to
put love in your manners and in your looks, when
it is absent from your heart. The roughest words or
ways are hardly so odious as " oily manners " and
"greasy smiles." Be frank, straightforward, real.
Be yourself, whatever you are. But try to get rid
of your selfishness in act and word, and that will
go far to banish it from your feelings. As you
endeavour to speak kindly, which you know is
your duty, and to do whatever is in your power,
which is your manifest duty also, the kindliness of
feeling will grow. It is your duty to love those
souls whom Christ has committed to your charge-
But it is your duty also to speak to them with
sympathy. It is your duty to put aside the sub-
40 Qualifications foj^' the Ministry,
jects that are occupying your own thoughts so as
to give them your full attention. It is your duty
to give them your time, your labour, your trouble.
As you try to perform these external duties, which
are within your power, day by day, to all sorts of
people, you will find it easier to fulfil the deeper
duty in the heart. Kindly acts will help the growth
of kindly feelings ; and then the growing love will
make the loving words and deeds more easy, more
natural, more effectual. In a word, pray that you
may feel the sacred bond that unites you to your
flock ; pray that you may realise the preciousness
and infinite value of immortal souls, and that the
sense of Christ's love towards yourself and towards
your fellow-sinners may be shed abroad in your
heart ; and then go on your way looking into the
faces of your people, grasping them with the hand
of brotherly cordiality, visiting their homes both
in joy and in sorrow, speaking your message of
comfort or of warning home to their hearts.
Praying thus, and acting thus, it will be strange if
you do not find a warmer love springing up in
your heart towards the people for whom you pour
out your prayers, and among whom you daily and
hourly labour.
CHAPTER IV.
THE WARRIOR SPIRIT.
T N the great world-wide battle between good
-■- and evil the minister of God has to act as
a leader. He is to be " gentle to all men, apt
to teach, patient," but he has also to quit himself
like a man and to be strong. There are many
who imagine they would like the clerical
profession, because it would secure them a quiet
and easy kind of life. They think of a pretty,
peaceful country parsonage, and picture to them-
selves the parson spending his days there between
learned leisure and quiet visits to old women, who
curtsey at his approach. Very different from
this pastoral dream is the real clergyman's real
life. Quiet enough outwardly it may be, but
wherever it is lived earnestly it is the opposite
of easy. Each day's work is a campaign. Each
ministerial effort is the storming of an enemy's
stronghold. The pastor goes among his people
42 The Warrior Spirdt,
with the tenderest love and sympathy, and yet he
has to go " armed to the teeth." Always he has
to be " very courageous/' and sometimes he has
to be as one of —
"Those who clench their nerves to rush
Upon their dissokition."
He has to carry a vigorous war into an enemy's
country. For he comes as an envoy from the
holy God to stir up his brethren, to rouse and
urge them onward in the daily and hourly conflict
with evil.
This involves speaking often what the listeners
do not like to hear. He has to reprove and
rebuke as well as to comfort. He cannot be
a flatterer or a mere speaker of " smooth things."
Though he will shrink with the courtesy of
a {gentleman and the tenderness of a Christian
from unnecessarily hurting the feelings of another,
yet he will often feel it an imperative necessity
to say what will give pain. Sometimes in his
doctrinal teaching he will have to go against the
current of popular or fashionable opinion. Some-
times he will have to speak plainly to a
member of his congregation about a special sin.
Sometimes in the little politics of the parish he
will have to take part against the great man,
The Warrior Spirit. 43
or, more awful still, the great lady of the place.
Straightforwardness, directness, truth, and justice
must be stamped on all his dealings. And these
qualities will bring him from time to time into
collision with one and another of his flock. The
clergyman is the servant of his people, and as
such he has to be humble, gentle, and self-
forgetting ; but he is also their teacher, and to
a certain degree, and within a certain sphere,
he is their ruler, and he must use his authority
with dignity and determination. He must speak
what he believes to be the truth, whether men
hear or whether they forbear. He has to do
what he considers to be right, wise, just, and
expedient, whether they approve or disapprove.
A weak, undecided clergyman, who is afraid of
a frown or of a sneer, or of the pious shaking of
an old woman's head, is in a pitiable position.
Differences of opinion among his parishioners
on various ecclesiastical subjects will most pro-
bably arise. And the rector or curate will be
eagerly expected by both parties to take their
views of the matter. And " Surely," Lady
Orthodox will exclaim, " he could not agree
with those fearfully lax and dangerous opinions."
And " Surely," Mr. New-Light thinks, " it would
be impossible for an educated man to hold such
44 The Warrior Spirit.
antiquated notions." And " Surely, surely,"
groans Mrs. Goodbody, " the world cannot have
come to such a pass that a clergyman should
^\MQ. his consent to such new-fangled practices."
And the Rev. Mr. Please-all is in a state of
distraction. For no matter what side he takes,
or what he teaches, or what he does, some one
will be scandalized, and some influential people
offended at the line he has chosen. And so he
chooses nothing. He vacillates miserably from
one side to another. No one knows what he
believes, or what he purposes to do. No one
knows, and very soon no one cares ; for he is
soon felt to be a cypher. There is influence
belonging to the office, but if there is net a man
in the office, if there is in it only a lay figure
hung over with the varying opinions of others,
or a puppet to be pulled hither and thither by
the grand people or by the good people of the
parish, the influence passes away as completely
as does the power of frightening from an old
scarecrow to which the birds have grown
accustomed.
To do our duty in public, therefore, and to
take our proper place among those over whom
we have been appointed teachers and watchmen,
requires some manly boldness. We must our-
The Warrior Spirit. 45
selves know what we believe, we must make up
our minds what line of action is really the best ;
and then we must stand like soldiers to our
colours, and neither be ashamed of the views
which we believe to be true, nor of the course of
conduct which we judge to be right.
In private, too, we have to take our stand
in the same spirit of holy boldness. Each
day's work, if done effectually, must be done
courageously. There is always a temptation to
shrink from the real difficulty of our duty. We
are ready enough to go and pay a visit or speak
to a parishioner, and say the nice things, the
proper things, we are expected to say. And
then we go on our way, laying the sweet unction
to our soul that we have done our duty ; we
have paid our visit, we have spoken piously : and
all the time we secretly know that we have not
come to close quarters with the man's spirit at
all. Ah ! is there no voice to whisper in our
conscience, " Coward ! coward ! You have pre-
tended to do your duty, but you have not had the
manliness to do it really. You were afraid of
looking the man straight in the face, and speaking
to him soul to soul. You have really done him
harm instead of good ; you have left him with
the idea that listening to your pious talk was
46 The War^rior Spirit,
some kind of pious act, something to be put to
the credit of his spiritual account ; you have not
sent one arrow of conviction home to his heart ;
you have not shaken him in the slightest degree
out of his fatal self-satisfaction and slumber of
conscience ; you were afraid to do so, afraid of
its being disagreeable and awkward to yourself to
startle or distress him, or go outside the routine
expressions of religion."
It is necessary, then, to be " very courageous,"
in order to do real ministerial work ; and in order
to be courageous it is necessary not only to think
about courage, but to practise it. There are in
our daily work many petty temptations to turn
and flee. We must steadfastly resist them. We
must make it a matter of principle never to be
satisfied with half measures when whole measures
are our duty, never to let ourselves stay silent
when we ought to speak, never to allow ourselves
to say pleasant things instead of true things,
never to shrink from a conversation or interview
because it is disagreeable or awkward. We must
cultivate the soldier spirit. Promptitude and
steadiness in obeying orders should be like
a second nature to us. One question only must
decide all our movements — what is my duty }
What is my great Captain commanding me to
do?
The Wam'ior Spmt, 47
But care has to be taken not to mistake bluster
for courage. The true soldier does not strut
or swagger. His step is firm, but it is steady
and regular. Do not think so much about being
brave as about doing what is right. There is
a spasmodic valorousness about the acts of a
really weak man that is most troublesome. A
secret consciousness of cowardice prevents him
from considering simply what is the best thing
to be done, and makes him eager to do some-
thing that will seem brave. And the apparently
brave thing is often the wrong thing. And so
the fear of his own timidity drives him to a
course that is unwise and mischievous. We
ought to look on the doing of our duty un-
flinchingly just as a matter of course, nothing
to make a fuss about or to admire ourselves
for, but only what must be expected from a
soldier of Christ.
Let us be on our guard also against confusing
boldness with hardness. Because you are deter-
mined to speak the truth, there is no necessity
to speak it roughly or without consideration for
others. You can be uncompromising, unflinch-
ing in your duty, and yet full of tenderness in
your heart and kindness in your manner. The
surgeon's hand must be firm and strong as i.c
The Warrior SpiiHt.
cuts home to the root of the disease. But what
woman would lift the patient more gently than
he does? What fingers could dress and soothe
the wound more tenderly than those which held
the knife with such an iron grasp ? Be bold,
but let your boldness proceed from love, and be
softened and beautified by love. Be bold, be-
cause you love your Master, and cannot bear
to be diverted by anything from doing as He
wills. Be bold, because you love your brother,
and are ready to go through fire and water to
do him good. Such boldness may sometimes
hurt, because it has to thrust home, but it will
never chafe or irritate, because the love from
which its force comes causes it to be used with
tact, with tender consideration, and that sincerity
and earnestness of purpose which is so hard to
be imitated, and yet so easily recognised where
it really exists. Boldness without love is hard^
defiant, inconsiderate, and unsympathizing. It
produces that style of almost insolent criticism
that is characterized in the well-known couplet —
" Of all the ills that Heaven can send.
Save, oh ! save me from a candid friend."
Boldness with love makes the speech honest and
sincere ; but it makes the tear glisten, and the
The Warrior Spirit. 49
voice tremble, as the painful word is spoken. It
makes the undaunted soldier of Christ be at the
same time gentle " as a nurse cherisheth her
children."
CHAPTER V.
THE LABOURER.
T N the last chapter we considered the Christian
-■- ministry in its martial aspect. But the
minister of Christ has to be a labourer as well as
a soldier. A great deal of his work is not directly
aggressive, and yet it is hard work. Happily the
clergyman has not to be always controverting error,
not always rebuking and warning, not always
taking a side among opposing cliques and parties.
True as it is that he is a warrior, and needs the
warrior spirit, it is equally true that he is essen-
tially a man of peace, coming from the Prince of
Peace on a message of holiest peace. But he has
a vast and difficult task before him, and if he
is to do any good in it, he must go to work
" with a will."
There is on this point a difference between a
clergyman's work and that of other professions.
Your pay in them is proportioned to your labour;
TJie Laboitre7\ 51
you must, therefore, either work or starve. The lazy
doctor or the lazy lawyer gets few fees. But the
lazy clergyman gets his salary regularly. The
amount of his work is not a matter of profit
or loss, but a matter of conscience : for in the
clerical profession it is quite easy to keep up
the appearance of working while you are idling.
Mock work can be given with fatal facility.
Shallow, external work makes great show. You
can be fussy and outwardly active, and have
innumerable church services, and pay innumerable
visits, while you are, as to will and thought and
purpose and spiritual effort, an idle lounger.
Bad doctoring is found out by patients dying ;
bad engineering by bridges breaking ; but bad
ministry is not found out till the Day of Judg-
ment. If you are affable in your manners, and
ready with a pleasant word for every one ; if
you have a few grand-sounding sentences in your
sermons, and often go in and out among
your parishioners, saying polite nothings to
the young ladies and pious nothings to the
old ladies, you are sure to be popular ; you are
honestly liked by the simple and good-natured
people who form a majority in every parish.
Very earnestly and honestly should the clergy-
man try himself as to the reality of his work,
52 The Labourer.
" Am I indeed labouring for my Master ? Have
I given any toil for Him to-day ?" Such should
be the evening's question. " Have I exerted my
energies ? have I shaken off sloth ? have I taken
any real trouble ? have I resisted any lazy
impulses ? have I been busy or have I been idle
at my work ?" And when the answer is dragged
from the reluctant conscience, " I have been idle ;
I have only gone through a nice-looking form ;
I have satisfied myself with the appearance of
doing my duty, while I have in truth done no-
thing ; I have shrunk from everything difficult or
painful, and taken my ease in respectable clerical
routine ;" then bring the confession with lowly
penitence to your Master. Humble yourself at
His feet with deep self-abasement. Tell Him how
you, the teacher of duty, have neglected your
own duty. Tell Him how you, the leader in service,
have been an idler. At His cross and through
His blood seek that pardon for yourself you pro-
claim to others. Ask for supernatural strength
from Him to overcome your natural self-sparing
instincts, and then, strong in the power of His
might, make a fresh start in your work.
It is to be hard work, but it is to be reasonable
work. If there is to be in it the motive power
of Christian earnestness, there is to be also the
The Labourer, 53
guiding and restraining power of good sense and
thoughtful consideration. Some young men wear
themselves out in spasmodic and exciting efforts ;
they seem to be always panting and blowing in
the eagerness of their motion. In their ill-regulated
zeal they make themselves so busy that they have
no time to do anything. A man of this kind comes
in to pay a visit, but he cannot listen to what his
people wish to say ; he cannot give sympathy,
attention, kindly consideration ; he must be off to
the next house on his list ; he must " go on with
his work." He meets a parishioner on the roadside ;
here is a golden opportunity. The man is by him-
self ; he is glad to see his clergyman ; he stops to
give him a kindly greeting. Not for years, perhaps,
will there be such a chance of cultivating personal
intimacy with this member of his flock, and speak-
ing to him eye to eye, as "a man and a brother."
A little genial sympathy now, a judicious question,
a firm though gentle home-thrust, a patient listen-
ing to a heart's difficulties and puzzles, and an
effect may be produced which years of preaching
could not accomplish. But our fussy friend is so
busy that he cannot stop. He must rush " on
to his work." Alas ! in his headlong rushing he
leaves his work behind.
So at the school, so at the sick bed, so in his
54 The Labom^er,
classes and lectures ; hurry and fuss prevent him
from giving his v/hole attention to the matter
in hand. He has been too busy to prepare what
he has to teach ; he has not thought over it nor
digested it. His teaching is vague, confused, with-
out definite point or sharp home-thrust. It
produces little impression and is quickly forgotten.
Even as he sits among his pupils he only gives
them half his attention ; he is absent and pre-
occupied. Where is the close watchfulness for
each individual soul in his class "> where is the
keen scrutiny of each young face, so that an idea
may be formed of what is going on underneath }
where is the intense interest for each hesitating
answer, the smile that encourages, the sympathy
that takes away shyness, the earnest reverence
that abashes every approach to levity } Ah ! you
look for all this in vain from that fidgety teacher
who is going through the lesson with the manifest
desire to get it over as quickly as possible. He
has really so much to do that he cannot let himself
be delayed too long by these school children. His
time is so precious that he must hurry over this
piece of work and go on to the next. Even by
the solemn sick bed, even in the house where
sorrow and death have come with their hush of
mournful calm, he cannot leave behind him his
The LabotLver, 55
eager fussiness. It makes him almost heartless.
That poor worn-out sufferer, why cannot he sit
with him for awhile, and let him have the sad
relief of talking about his pains to a sympathizing
friend ? Why does the pastor silence his complain-
ing- so curtly, take out his Bible and administer
" the portion" and the prayer so imperatively ?
He wants to get on with his business. He must
do his " duty" with the sick man, and not waste
his time in unnecessary talk. He is very sorry
for these mourners, but he has other people to
visit ; he must not stay too long here. This or
that consoling phrase, this or that nice text of
the Bible, ought to be enough for them, and away
he goes " on his work."
So he gets through his day, very busy but very
useless. He has a long list of entries for his
diary, but what record of his visits will there
be when the great Books are opened }
How is this fussiness and hurry in parochial
work to be guarded against .?
Let the stress be laid on the quality of the
work rather than on its quantity. What we
really want is not to pay a great many visits, teach
a great many classes, or preach a great many
sermons, but to bring a great blessing to human
souls. It is well to strive to reach as large numbers
56 The Labourer.
of people as possible, so that we may have many
opportunities for getting at their hearts ; but ft is
the heart-work we have always to aim at, feeling
that nothing is done unless this is achieved. The
quantity of efforts made must be looked on only
as the means ; the end in view is the spiritual he^p
to living souls.
The good fisherman tries to " cover as much
ground " as he can. The further he walks along
the river bank the greater his chance of filling his
basket in the course of the day. But how warily
he watches every ripple ; how deftly he throws his
fly where the water eddies behind the rock, or
sleeps under the shadowy bank, or breaks in
merry laughter down the swift incline ! He walks
far so that he may have more and more of those
favourable spots for exercising his skill and wiling
his silvery prey from their hiding places. But
what he thinks of with eager interest is not for how
many miles he can whip the stream, but how many
fish he can catch. His day's success depends on
the dexterity with which each cast is made.
Have we not a picture here of the work of
those whom God has appointed to be fishers of
men ?
** Cast after cast, by force or guile,
AH waters must be tried."
The Labourer. 57
Much time must be spent in the work, many
efforts made, many people approached in various
ways. The recognised instrumentalities must be
used, and from time to time fresh ones invented
and tried ; but our success depends, humanly
speaking, not on the number of efforts we make
but on the deep gaze of mental and spiritual
attention with which we watch the opportunities
afforded by each of them, and the intensity of
thoughtful endeavour with which we strive to
seize the opportunities as they present themselves.
Let us have it, then, well impressed on our minds
that bustle is not work — that our work must be
done quietly and carefully, or not at all. Let us
have a holy horror of religious " red tapeism."
Regular returns and entries and statistics of paro-
chial work, and orderly and neatly-kept journals —
all these things look very nice, they delight the
hearts of clerical old maids ; but if laid much stress
on, they become a " mockery, a delusion, and a
snare." Soul-work cannot be measured or tabulated.
The reckoning of its results is entered on no
earthly page. The Books on which it is inscribed
will be opened in due time, but not here below.
But orderly method, although if wrongly used
it leads to bustle, if rightly used prevents bustle
and economises labour. Method, like many other
58 The Labotirer.
useful things, is a hard master but a good servant.
If you do your parish work for the sake of your
parish books, the wretched, superficial fussiness we
have just spoken of, results ; but if you use your
books judiciously, they will help your memory,
regulate your time, and enable you to do your
duty more easily and more effectually.
There is a danger of working by fits and
starts. We are apt to make a great rush at
our work sometimes, when we are in the mood
for it, and to shrink back from it at other times
when we feel disinclined for the exertion, or
inclined for some other occupation. And there
is so little external restraint upon most of us
clergymen, we are left so much to our own dis-
cretion as to the management of our time, that
we might very easily drift into a desultory and
irregular kind of working, guided only by our
varying impulses. And we naturally enjoy some
parts of our work much m.ore than others. Some
of us like to be always at our books ; some of
us, with the schoolboy spirit, are anxious to shut
up the books and be off into the open air ; some
have a delight in teaching and school-work, and
dread the solemnity of the sick room or the
hospital ward. Most of us have our favourite
parishioners, people whom we like seeing and
The Labourer, 59
talking to ; while others of our flock are dis-
tasteful to us, and spoken to only from a sense
of duty. And our memories are very treache-
rous, and we forget often how long it is since
we have performed this or that duty of brotherly
kindness or pastoral vigilance ; and we are vexed
and surprised when that tiresome old bedridden
Mrs. Grumble informs us, with reproachful
accuracy, that it will be three months next
Wednesday since we visited her last, and we
had promised to come again in a fortnight.
To do our work well, therefore, it is necessary
to do it systematically. Time should be care-
fully and thoughtfully laid out beforehand — the
time for the study, the time for school, and the
time for the parish. If the parish is large, and
the engagements numerous, each day of the
week should have its programme. The pro-
gramme, whether for the day or the week, must
be elastic. It must be a help to loving work,
and not a fetter of iron bondage. At a call for
help or sympathy from brother or sister the
season of study must be allowed to be interrupted
without ill-humour. Christ's servant must be at
the disposal of the poor and the suffering and
the anxious at all times. The plan of work
laid out for Monday must be modified if some-
6o The Labourer.
thing more immediately pressing has to be done.
But let there be, as far as possible, the careful
and economic prearrangement of employment,
so that the pastor may not have to waste his
time, like a little child, in puzzling what on
earth he is to do next.
The statistics of the parish should be care-
fully drawn up wherever it is possible — the
number and ages of children ; who are confirmed
and who unconfirmed ; notes of any important
or interesting circumstance connected with the
family ; records of when each has been visited
by the clergyman. Carefully and regularly should
this book be kept, and carefully should it be
studied. Are we tempted to be idle, to be par-
tial in our attentions to our people } Those
blanks in our visiting lists look at us with re-
proachful gaze. Memory is awakened, conscience
is stirred, we are reminded of work we ought
to do, we are supplied with information that
directs us in our doing of it. In addition to
the general statistics, special lists should be kept
of those who need special attention — the sick,
the aged, the delicate, the troubled " in mind,
body, or estate." Thus, by a little careful system,
both as to the time and as to the objects of our
labour, we secure greater steadiness, accuracy,
The Labourer. 6i
and efficiency in our work, with less of bustle
or hurrying to and fro to overtake what has been
forgotten or neglected.
Hard work, then, we have before us, and, like
all real work, steady and regular, and almost
plodding sometimes. Hard work, but always
happy work ; work for God, for immortal souls,
for heavenly results. Happy is our labour in
its very hardness. Our energies are employed,
all our faculties are busy, our deepest sympathies
are called out. The regularly returning order,
the portion of toil for each day, the pleasant
consciousness when evening comes of " something
accomplished, something done," gives a sense
of calm and repose in the midst of effort. We
look forward as our privilege and joy by-and-by
to serving God day and night in His holy temple.
The joy has begun already. The teaching and
wrestling with consciences by day, the study and
prayer by night — what are they but angels' work }
The faces of friends that we look into, the eyes
that brighten with gladness or soften in tears
as we bring our message — what stars can sparkle
in the temple on high with sweeter interest for
us than these t We are even now God's minis-
tering servants, doing His pleasure, carrying on
His work, helping the souls He has redeemed.
62 The Labourer.
The room where we think, read, and pray (even
though it be but a curate's humble lodging), the
city street, the village church, the darkened sick
room — each spot where we carr;^ on our labour
of love — is it not God's temple, glorious with
His unseen presence, thrilling with the interest
of His service ?
Shall we grudge, then, labour for our Lord ?
Shall we look on the incessant toil of the minis-
try as a hardship ? Even if we dared to be
idle, could we bear to be so ? Will there not
be a heart-thrill of triumph, as well as a sense
of necessity laid upon the conscience, as we
apply to ourselves the poet's words :
" Think not of rest ; though dreams be sweet,
Start up, and ply your heavenward feet.
Is not God's oath upon your head
Ne'er to sink back on slothful bed ?
Never again your loins untie,
Nor let your torches waste and die,
Till, when the shadows thickest fall,
Ye hear your Master's midnight call " ?
CHAPTER VI.
HINTS FOR THE STUDY.
T3AR0CHIAL work and study of books are
"*- often thought of as if they were rivals, or
antagonistic to each other. They should be
considered really as branches of the same work.
The pastor is labouring for the great object of
making God known to men when he is storing
his mind with sacred truths and burning thoughts,
as well as when he is striving to press these truths
and these thoughts home to the hearts of his
brethren.
To be a good teacher you must be a diligent
learner. To go on year after year teaching well,
you must go on in your learning. Let the
learning slacken, let the stream of thought grow
stagnant, and the instruction will soon lose its
sparkle and its freshness. If a clergyman is
really enlightened, mentally and spiritually, on
the revelation of God to men's souls, and if he
64 Hints for the Study,
has good sense to recognise his
other matters, and honesty not to make a pre-
tence of what he does not possess, he may do
much good, though his range of knowledge is
very limited. But he will find this limitation to
his knowledge a continual hindrance to his
usefulness ; and in proportion as he is energetic
and strong-minded, he will strive to overcome it
by diligent and wisely-directed study. There are
few parishes in which a clergyman can be placed
where he will not have some members of his
congregation who are well acquainted with letters
and books. In the present day it is often these
persons who most need the pastor's help. The
tone of current literature is such as to make for
them difficulties and temptations which are almost
unknown to those whose mental activities have
not been awakened, and whose inherited ideas
have not been disturbed. If the clergyman is
unaccustomed to the lines of thought by which
their difficulties are suggested, he can bring them
very little real guidance or comfort. He may
be very good and very earnest, but they quickly
see that he has not breathed their intellectual
atmosphere, and does not understand the language
in which they and their fellows commune.
Underneath any regard they may have for him
Hints for the Study. 65
personally, there lurks something which, if it is
not exactly contempt, is as much akin to it as is
a big boy's feeling for his grandmother's well-
meant cautions. The advice is very kind, no
doubt, but it comes, thinks the receiver of it, from
one who is incapable of judging on the subject of
the advice.
And no one can speak so simply to simple
people as those whose minds have been trained
and clarified by careful study. High talking,
bombastic sentences, long words, tawdry and
flowery rhetoric — these puzzles to the poor and
offences to the refined, where do we find them
most ? Is it not with those whose education has
been imperfect } A little knowledge is dangerous
in many ways. It certainly has the danger of
giving to the style of speaking or writing
a nameless, yet very perceptible, flavour of
vulgarity. Look at the man who has reached
the position of what may be called a " half-
gentleman ; " see the little tokens of self-
importance and self-display breaking out in
pompous manners, showy watch-chains, flashing
rings, and astounding waistcoats. Is there not
something reminding us of this in the grand
words of the smatterer in knowledge t He is
proud of his newly-acquired possession, and likes
5
66 Hints for the Study.
to adorn himself with it. The possession is not
large enough to make him forget himself, or feel
his own littleness, or exercise what power he has
with directness and simplicity of aim. Instead
of wanting people to understand and feel the
subjects of his discourse, he wants them to under-
stand and feel how accomplished and admirable
he is, and how perfectly he expresses himself.
In order, then, to reach the sympathies of the
educated and the understandings of the poor, it
is of great importance that their spiritual pastor
should be a well-read man. It may not be
always possible for clergymen to be learned men,
but they should always be cultured men. The
proportion of time to be devoted to study must,
of course, vary according to circumstances. It
must be in each individual case a matter
of thoughtful and conscientious judgment.
Different advice is required according to differing
characters. Pressure must be brought on some
men to leave their beloved books and their
comfortable study, and sally out into muddy
roads, and noisy schools, and squalid rooms, and
all the bustle and effort of busy outward life ;
while others, who can talk easily, and like mixing
with their fellow-men, and enjoy the exercise and
interest of the parochial round, need the strong
Hints for the Study. 67
sense of duty to bind them down for any length
of time to the more uncongenial labour of steady,
mental work. Let the division of labour be
recognized as a matter, not of inclination, but
of conscience. Do not stay and read when you
like it, and go out and visit when you like it.
But go on reading as long as you feel it to be
your duty, and stop reading as soon as you
believe it to be your duty. To one the going on
will be the difficulty, to another the stopping
will be the difficulty ; but to all alike, both the
going on and the stopping should be a matter,
not of impulse, but of principle. And this much
I think we may lay down as a general rule, that
every day should have its portion of study, as
well as its portion of active exertion. An hour
or two in the morning, and an hour or two in the
evening, might surely be secured for the purpose
in the most busy sphere. Any arrangement of
parochial work which would make such an
allocation an impossibility is, I do not hesitate
to say, a defective arrangement, and ought to be
changed. All the work will, in the long run,
be degraded, and tend towards a perfunctory
routine, if the workmen cannot be invigorated
and freshened in their inward life by regular
study.
68 Hints for the Study,
I. As to the subject of our reading, I hope it
is unnecessary for me to say that the first place
must always be given to the " reading and
weighing of the Holy Scriptures " — other things
are useful, but this is essential. The minister of
Christ is not a mere moral policeman to keep
men's conduct in order ; nor is he only a teacher
of mental philosophy, guiding their inquiries and
speculations and guesses at the unknown. He is
an ambassador with an authoritative message from
the living God ; he is entrusted with a definite
revelation as to the character, will, and dealings
of that unseen and awful Being. In the life
and words of the Lord Jesus, in the teaching of
His inspired Apostles and Prophets, the revelation
is embodied. By the records of that sacred life,
by the writings of those holy men, the revelation
has been preserved for the Church. There it
has to be studied ; there its meaning and import
have to be searched for ; there the teacher must
have his own spirit embued with the blessedness
and glory of the Divine message which he has to
re-echo.
It is not the object of these papers (even if the
writer were capable of it) to guide you in the
study of that grand and widely-varied course of
literature which we group together under the
Hints for the Study. 69
familiar name of " the Bible." I must content
myself here with two or three suggestions
connected with our special subject, the pastor's
work.
I. Strive in your reading of Scripture always
to search for God's teaching to the human heart.
The Bible is often studied almost in the same
way as are Homer and Herodotus. There is
much interesting criticism of ancient language,
and much valuable research into ancient history.
The student can give the most accurate in-
formation as to the genealogy of Hebrew kings
or the geography of ancient cities. His studies
are no doubt useful in their way, and may
indirectly elucidate the moral and spiritual
teaching of the inspired writers ; but it must not
be supposed that this kind of reading is a study
of God's revelation. It is well that the picture
frame should be cleaned and burnished, but it
must not be mistaken for the picture. It is well
that the casket should be carefully handled ; but
the casket is one thing, the gem it contains is
another.
Do not be satisfied then with reading so many
chapters of the Bible, or becoming acquainted
with this or that portion of Scripture history.
As Christ's messenger, learning His message*
JO Hints for the Study.
let your constant inquiry be, " What light is here
thrown upon the relation between God and man ?
What do I learn as to who God is, what God
wishes, what God's plans and purposes are ? "
Ever as you read let this questioning be an
undercurrent, giving a thoughtful tone and an
earnest purpose to your study. And in pro-
portion as it tends to make your searching
of Scripture thoughtful and earnest, it will also
make it honest. It will lift you above what
we may call "text theology." Instead of
dexterously picking out expressions here and
there to " prove " doctrines that agree with your
tastes and prejudices, you will be anxious to
find out as you read what was really meant by
the writer. You will study the history of God's
dealings with men, and the outpourings of the
hearts of those whom from time to time He has
raised up and filled with a special portion of His
Spirit, so that your own heart may be more and
more attuned in harmony with the tone of His
thinking and teaching, and your ideas and
convictions become more and more faithful echoes
of His revelation. Thus you will come to be
indeed " thoroughly furnished " for your work.
Taught by your Master's inspired teachers,
catching up the tone that breathes through their
Hints for the Study. 71
pages, there will be a certain inspiration in your
own teaching. There will be a power about
it to touch, and waken, and comfort, that will
surprise yourself; for it is the power of the
" Word of God." Speaking week after week and
day after day, there will still be an ever-renewing
freshness, vividness, and interest in what you
say ; for it will be drawn from the cool depths
of that "well of water which springeth up unto
everlasting life."
2. But, while you read Holy Scripture to
strengthen you in your teaching of others, take
care lest the thought of these others should inter-
fere between your own soul and God's teaching.
It might easily do so. I fear it often does so
with us clergymen. " What a nice text this verse
would make ! How exactly it suits the case of
Mr. Jones or Mrs. Brown ! How profitably we
might improve this passage for the Bible-class!"
Do not such thoughts often rise in our minds as we
read.'* And when they come, is not our own learning
from the sacred page greatly hindered } I think
it is well, then, that we should have special times
for devotional reading. Besides our general study
of Scripture, as students, with the help of
commentaries and critical apparatus ; besides our
study as teachers, preparing for our expositions,
72 Hints for the Stztdy.
and storing our minds with the treasures we are to
impart to others, we should have our little sacred
seasons, when, as weak and ignorant children, we
come ourselves to the Father of lights to hear what
He has to say to our souls.
These times should be looked upon as precious
moments for being with Himself " behind the
veil." Not as teachers, but as poor puzzled
learners ; not as guides of others, but as erring
and straying our own selves, we try to look up
into His face and listen to His voice ; and it is
what He says to our own hearts, and not what
He says to any one else, that we want to hear.
Jealously we should strive to guard the holy
privacy of these intimate communings. What we
read is God's word to our own ear. We try to
keep away the thought of how it bears on anyone
else. What my God and Saviour is to me, how
He loves me, how He treats me, what He
has in store for me, what He wishes for my
character, my conduct, my feelings — this is what
I want to learn, this is what I ask Him to
teach me. The more quickly and attentively I
listen to His voice to myself now, the stronger
shall I be, the richer in knowledge and expe-
rience, to talk to my brethren by-and-by.
I do not mean that there is to be bondage in
Hints for the Study. 73
this matter, or a straining of conscience, or a
laying on it any kind of burden. I only mean
that we should recognize the importance of daily
study of Scripture for the nourishment of our own
spiritual life, and that there should be a firm deter-
mination of the will that such should be regularly
secured.
II. Closely connected with our study of
Scripture is the study of the evidences of our
religion. It is closely connected ; for the reading
we have just spoken of is the study of one great
branch of evidence. It is proving the truth of
what we have been taught to believe by the test
of experiment. When we bring our hearts into
contact with the story of Christ's life and character,
and the teaching of His commissioned messengers;
when we find the longings and aspirations of
our moral nature so grandly satisfied by the
Gospel of the Lord Jesus ; when we find so many
of the deepest questions of the understanding
answered by it, and so many of the difficulties and
trials of actual life made easier by it, we are face
to face with an evidence that is of all others
perhaps the most practically potent. But it is only
one of the many lines of proof, by the convergence
of which we are convinced that Jesus Christ is God
manifest in the flesh, and that our Christian faith
74 Hints for the Study.
is based, not on hopes or dreams, but on the firm
foundation of positive fact. The ordinary believer
is often satisfied (and the satisfaction is by no
means unreasonable) with the inward and spiritual
line of evidence that comes so straight home to his
consciousness ; but the teacher of religion is ill-
furnished for his office, unless he is familiar with
the other lines also. In the present day this is
especially the case. The danger pressing most
immediately upon us now is the danger of
scepticism. The difficulty which our people have
to contend with is not merely the old difficulty
of serving God, but the difficulty of believing in
God at all. Does the supernatural exist } God,
goodness, eternity, heaven, hell, are there any
realities corresponding with these old words on our
tongues, and old ideas in our minds } These are
the questions that men and women are asking all
around, sometimes with the levity of those who
are glad to escape from seriousness of thought
in a complacent agnosticism, sometimes with the
agony of hope and fear of those who feel that on
the answer to the questions depends their all in all.
Clear, decided, and convincing should be the
answer Christ's ambassador brings to such
questioning. To give it well, to give it according
to the different needs of different doubters, to give
Hints for the Study. 75
it so as to meet the special difficulties of the modern
mind, he should be well versed in modern apologetic
literature. Happily there is a noble supply to
meet the urgent demand. Year by year powerful
and deeply interesting works issue from the press,
making us know the certainty of the things
wherein we have been instructed. To some minds
the study of such works is an intense pleasure.
The accurate reasoning that, on grounds of
physical and mental philosophy, grapples with the
negations of the materialist ; the learned antiqua-
rian researches that help to establish the genuine-
ness and authority of our sacred books ; the
careful grouping together of events in the world's
outward history, and more momentous events still
in the history of its thought and morals, that puts
in a vivid light the reality and stupendous
significance of the Gospel story, — these lines of
thought and study are more interesting to many
readers than the most thrilling novel. To others
they are painful and harassing. The cold arguing
over subjects in which their heart's love and life's
hopes are bound up seems to them almost like the
philosophy of those who " peep and botanize upon
their mother's grave." But whether we like it or
like it not, it is a training that, as leaders in the
great warfare between light and darkness, we must
76 Hints for tJie Study.
go through. All clergymen are not indeed placed
exactly in the same position with regard to their
warfare. The weapons of some have to be directed
against moral rather than intellectual antagonists.
Their people are generally simple and uneducated,
with dangers and temptations enough (God knows),
but no great temptations from either the use or
abuse of their reasoning powers. And all men have
not similar mental qualifications. The power of
firmly grasping and clearly expressing difficult and
complicated lines of argument is not a common
possession. Some men are therefore better suited
for work among the educated, and some for work
among the uneducated. And it would be well that,
in choosing spheres of labour, men should have
regard, not only to the quantity of work to be done,
and the quantity of pay to be received, but also
very specially to the kind of work to be done in
that special post, and its suitability to their
peculiar qualifications. Still in every field of work
the clergyman is placed as the " defender of the
faith;" and no matter what be his natural
aptitudes, he should carefully and earnestly learn
the use of "the weapons of his warfare." He
ought to have, therefore, clearly in his mind the
main lines of argument that prove the truth of his
great message.
Hints for the Stzcdy. yy
III. Besides your study of Scripture and of the
evidences of religion, you have before you also the
vast field of what is called "dogmatic theology."
This is often supposed to be a " dry" study. The
dryness of the study depends on the spirit of
the reader. If you merely try to charge your
memory with theories and controversies, and texts
on this side and that, so that you can exactly tell
what were the views of various heretics, and
what were the arguments by which the orthodox
refuted them, the subject will be dull. You are
approaching it in a dull spirit. You are like
a schoolboy learning a Greek play by rote.
You are like an auctioneer taking an inventory
of valuable pictures. The beauty and wonder
of the things you are dealing with make no
impression on your spirit. Your learning may
enable you to answer an examiner's questions ;
it may give you the credit of being " a well-read
man ; " but it will not make you a stronger man.
It will not make you wiser to know the difficulties
and temptations of humanity, nor wiser to apply
to them the Divine remedy. It will not make
your visits to men and women more instructive,
nor your sermons more powerful, nor your
spiritual life more watchful. This, however, is not
the fault of theology, but of the student. If
78 Hints for the Study.
approached in a right spirit, the study of theology
is the study of the two most interesting subjects in
existence — God's revelation and man's thoughts
about it. It is the study of mistake and error as
well as truth. But even in the errors we learn
to discard and refute there is deep interest.
They are the efforts of human thought to grasp
the Divine. There is sublimity mingled with
pathos in the very failures. Heresies, narrow
views, exaggerations of religious doctrine, are they
not marks of the struggle between a great thing
and a greater — between man's mind and God's
truth } Study your theology with sympathy for
the human thought, as well as with prayer and
longing to know exactly what God has made
known. Feel for the difficulties of Arius even
while you join with Athanasius in his demolition.
Let your imagination be interested and your heart
touched by the long and majestic history of Latin
Christianity, even while you feel as keenly as
Luther the danger and falsehood of Romish super-
stition. Thrill in solemn awe with Calvin in
presence of Divine omniscience and Divine
immutability, even though you preach with
Arminius the reality of the separate human will.
What God has taught distinctly or with dim hints,
what men have thought about it rightly or wrongly,
Hints for the Study. 79
wisely or foolishly, carefully or rashly, such aie the
subjects of theologic study. They may be described
in dry language; they may be read about in a dry
spirit ; but when studied with reverence for God's
teachings, and sympathy for man's thinkings, they
are glorious subjects, calculated to lift the heart
above petty worldliness and self-seeking, calculated
to clear and strengthen the understanding, and to
fit Christian ministers for their grand ministerial
work of dealing with men's souls, entering into the
intricacies of their moral and mental difficulties,
and bringing them face to face with the Revelation
of God.
IV. The study of ecclesiastical history is in
reality a branch of the study of theology. Still,
as we read it, we have before us man's thinkings
upon God's revelations. For the most important
part of the history of the Church is the history of
its thought. We have God's various dealings in
outward providence — the working out of the great
laws by which nations and dynasties rise and fall
— the manifestations of tendencies in man's nature
by which divisions and schisms and wars and
tumults and mutual persecutions sweep over society
like the gusts of wind over the stormy sea. We
have these changing events in ecclesiastical history,
but deep underneath all we have the strivings of
8o Hints for the Study.
man's mind to know and express the true, and
cast out the false. The turmoil on the surface
comes from the struggles of the buried Titan. If
we read our ecclesiastical history in an enlightened
spirit, we are watching still that greatest and most
interesting of phenomena — man's thinking, feeling,
and acting with regard to God's teaching. But
there is a special use in this branch of theology,
besides the knowledge it gives us of human cha-
racter, and the fresh aspects it shows us of Divine
truth. It makes us feel the unity and continuity
of Christ's Church. It tends to counteract the
strong tendency in the clerical mind to settle down
into " parochialism." Naturally and rightly his
own parish has the very deepest interest for the
pastor's heart ; and he has to think of it, wish for
it, and look into it so much, that there is a danger
of his not looking beyond it. And so his mind
easily becomes narrowed, and his sympathies con-
tracted. He begins to forget that there is any-
thing outside his parish, or that there was anything
of interest there before he began his work. The
attendance at his Sunday School, the number of his
communicants, the quarrels of his old women, the
impression made by his last sermon — these seem
to him the great events of the world's history. Is
it not well for him to be reminded that there have
Hints for tJie Study,
been in the past, and are going on in the present,
some other events nearly as important ? Is it not
well that his attention should sometimes be turned
from Tommy Smith's misconduct at school, and
Mr. Holdfast's stinginess in his subscriptions, and
the extraordinary sleepiness of the congregation
on Sunday evening, to the struggles and trials and
failures and triumphs of Christ's people throughout
the ages ? As he remembers the agonies of
martyrs and the struggles of reformers, and the
long labours of missionaries, as he thinks of the
fire of persecution, and the blight of false doctrine,
and the oppressions of statecraft, and the tyranny
of priestcraft, and the grand thunder of Christian
preachers, and the massive writings of Christian
fathers, and the wisdom of councils, and the waver-
ing and yet ever onward progress of the line of
Christian teaching through the world, must he not
be lifted up in spirit, and made a larger-hearted
and truer teacher ? He feels perhaps more in-
tensely than before that he is God's messenger to
the little flock around him ; but he feels, too, that
he is but one in the long procession of God's
soldiers and servants here, soon to be gathered
into the great number whom no man can number
on high. He feels that he and his people are but
part of " the holy Church throughout the world."
6
82 Hints for the Study.
V. There are other studies, not usually looked
upon as theological or even religious, which seem
to me important and useful ingredients in the in-
tellectual diet of a clergyman. Prominent among
these is mental and moral philosophy, the investi-
gation of the laws of thought, and of the relation
and interaction of the various wheels within wheels
of that wonderful inward mechanism by which
man perceives, feels, wishes, purposes, and acts.
The more the spiritual physician understands this
psychological anatomy, the more skilfully can he
apply his medicines, and the more boldly, when
needs be, can he cut home with the keen blade
of argument or reproof. Much preaching, for want
of this knowledge, is only waste of energy. Men
say fine things and perhaps true things ; they harp
on one subject, thunder on another, but the right
chord in the heart of the hearers is not touched.
The particular emotion needed to move the will
has not been awakened. More knowledge of the
laws of mind, more thoughtful determination to
act on them and through them, would have kept
these orators from many a long train of useless
eloquence,
VI. The study of natural science is also par-
ticularly beneficial to a clergyman ; for it is another
form of the search after God's truth. It is the
Hints for the Study, 8
study of what is. It is the investigation of facts.
Such studies help to produce a tone of patient and
careful inquiry, a judicial calmness of thought that
is specially useful to the clerical mind. The mere
theologian is apt to be passionate and eager in his
opinions. The subjects on which he thinks are so
interwoven with his dearest affections and most
ardent hopes, that it is hard for him to preserve an
unprejudiced and impartial judgment. Where we
feel intensely, it is not easy to reason calmly.
Hence comes the odhim theologicum that has been
always such a reproach to religion, and such a
hindrance to the advance of religious knowledge.
Zeal for God's truth, as it is called, has been the
most prolific source of error. Men are so eager for
orthodoxy, so fierce in their pious horror of hetero-
doxy, that they rush into the theological fray
with eyes blinded to everything but their own
taditional ideas. Thus errors and superstitions
become enthroned in pious affections, and half
truths pass for whole truths, and realities can never
be separated from the garments of conventional
expression in which they are wrapped up. Thus
good men who believe in the same living Lord are
kept asunder by hard barriers of doctrinal differ-
ences ; and there is the sad spectacle to the world
of perpetual disunion in the Church of Christ
84 Hints for the Study.
mutual suspicion, mutual recriminations, mutual
denunciations, religious people "hating one another
for the love of God." No doubt the moral faults
of bigotry, dogmatism, and intolerance need moral
remedies. But the habit of mind engendered by
scientific study helps the cure. Those who are
altogether occupied in these studies have their own
dangers, which we need not enter into now. But
a mingling of scientific investigation with the study
of theology counteracts the theologic faults. In
arriving at conclusions on debated subjects, the
tone of mind it engenders does not ask, " Is this
the orthodox view .<* is it nice .? does it sound pious ?
does it fall in with the traditions of my party ?
how would it be approved of by this person or
that person .? It simply asks, " Is it true } what
is the evidence for it t what are the objections
against it } on which side does the balance of
proof lie 1 " Calmly and steadfastly it strives to
shut out all considerations but this one, "What
conclusion does the evidence lead to.?" I strongly
recommend Divinity students, therefore, not to
think the science they have to learn in their
" arts " course an interference with their pre-
paration for the great work of the mmistry but
rather a help to it, for which they may be
thankful, and which it is well they should use
Hints for the Sttidy. 85
earnestly. And I think it is useful for clergymen
in their after-life to keep up their interest in
scientific subjects, and whenever they have an
opportunity to carry on their study of them.
They will thereby be larger- minded men, more
capable of weighing evidence and arriving at
unbiassed judgments, and they will not be less
humble and loving servants of the Creator for
being careful students of His works.
VII. General literature, too, the " light
literature" even of the day, should have its corner
in the clergyman's library, and its portion, though
not a very large portion, of his time. Relaxation
is needed ; the bow must be unbent ; and just
as it is well that the body should have its
invigorating exercise, the ride, the walk, the
mountain ramble, the game of tennis or cricket,
or the good pull on the water, so it is well that
the mind also should have its hours of unbending
in which the mental powers may find pleasant
exercise and interest without fatigue. This can
best be effected by literature. After the careful
study of the morning, after the straining of all the
energies of thought and feeling in preparation of
sermons or addresses that are to rouse and guide
the souls of our fellow-men, after the day's toil
in schools and classes, and visits to sick and
86 Hints for the Study.
sorrowing and sinning men and women, it is
a wonderful rest to " read from the treasured
volume the poem of our choice," to be carried
away by the ripple of sweet rhyme, or the music
of stately prose, or the fascinating spell of
imaginative thought, away from our struggles,
anxieties, and disappointments, away into a fresh
atmosphere, where we can breathe softly and
quietly while
" The cares that mfest the day
May fold their tents like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away."
But the refreshment of literature is neither its
only nor its chief advantage. It gives to the
mind and to the style of speaking and writing
that indescribable " something " which carries
with it so much charm and power, which, though
akin to knowledge, is not exactly the same as
knowledge, which for want of a better name we
call " culture." Learning and severe study will
not produce it ; they should underlie it ; but over
them there should be layers of gentler lore, even
as over the seed-bearing calyx of the rose are
folded the soft and fragrant petals. This culture
is a very real help to the clergyman in his
teaching. Tact, delicacy, and refinement of
feeling, though they are the offspring of love, are
Hints for the Study, 87
assisted in their birth by culture ; and grace and
felicity of expression are entirely its gift. Culture
will not make you know the truth. It will not
give fire and enthusiasm to preach it from your
heart. But when you know it, and love it, and
long to make it known to men, culture will
facilitate your utterance, will supply you with
many a helping word and happy idea, so that
what you feel and believe may be more
effectively commended to your hearers. It is
impossible to describe the manifold advantage
it is to a clergyman to be a cultivated
gentleman. It gives you topics of mutual
interest and sympathy with the educated members
of your flock ; it wins for you a sort of access
to them which if you are in earnest you will
use for your deeper work. It helps you also
to know what such people are thinking about,
what ideas are likely to be floating in their
minds, what dangers to heart and understanding
you have to guard them against. The literature
of the day reflects the general thought and feel-
ing of the day. You find it hard perhaps to
have many opportunities for close conversation
with the gentlemen, the lawyers, or doctors of
your congregation. But as you read the
Nineteenth Century or the Contemporary Review,
88 Hints for the Study.
you know some of the subjects to which their
thoughts have been directed.
And you read not merely as a physician
looking out for the diseases he is to cure, but
also as a man with a healthy appetite looking
in many storehouses for nourishing food. Your
mind wants to be strengthened, enlarged, and
supplied with varied ideas. Every honest book
you read brings you some of these. Well does
one of our most earnest poets describe the spirit
in which general literature ought to be read :
" We get no good
By being ungenerous, even to a book,
And calculating profits — so much help
From so much reading. It is rather when
"We gloriously forget ourselves, and plunge
Soul forward, headlong, into a book's profound,
Impassioned for its beauty and its salt of truth,
'Tis then we get the right good from a book." *
I cordially agree with this noble sentiment ; I
think that we parsons and embryo parsons need
to be reminded of it. We are not mere quaran-
tine officers, to whom literature has to be submitted,
to see whether it is safe from the plague. We
are not a separate priest-caste, looking down from
our dignified elevation upon weak and inferior
races. We are men and brothers, knit together in
the great fraternity of the human race, throbbing
* Mrs. Barrett Browning.
Hints for the St7idy. 89
with the pulse of its varied Hfe, sharing its joys
and sorrows, hopes and fears, feeHng our hearts
heave and swell with the pant of its intellectual
labour. We are elder brothers indeed, through
our office, commissioned by our Father to help and
guide, but brothers still, and the more brotherly
the better helpers ; so we like to share with our
brother-men our common heritage of thought and
knowledge.
But we must take care that literary knowledge
and culture do not interfere with what the Apostle
calls " simplicity and godly sincerity." Not with
fleshly wisdom, but by the grace of God, souls are
won for Christ. If you read the thoughts and
opinions and speculations of the day so much
that you can no longer truly say, " I am deter-
mined to know nothing among you but Jesus
Christ and Him crucified," if the Lord Himself —
His love and His service — becomes to you one
of the many things you want to teach, instead of
the " one thing needful," to which everything else
is subservient, then your books and your studies
have become to you noxious weeds, entangling
thorns, choking the celestial seed. And there is
another danger. " Knowledge puffeth up." You
might easily pride yourself on being accomplished
and well-read. And then there would come a
90 Hints for the Study.
tone of show-off into your language. You would
use your culture, not to make your message better
known, and its beauty more deeply felt, but to
dress yourself up more prettily for people's
admiration. Your quotations would be not for
the purpose of illustrating truth, but of adorning
the preacher. Ah, my cultured friend, it would
have been better to have remained an honest
dunce than to have become a conceited pedant.
The difference between literary knowledge as
a snare or as a help depends on the motive and
spirit of your study. St. Paul was an eminently
cultured man, and used his knowledge with a
master hand ; but he used it as nothing in itself,
but just as a means for that great labour in which
he " travailed in birth " for his spiritual children,
" till Christ should be formed in their hearts."
Whatever learning or culture he had, he counted
it, as well as everything else, " but loss for the
excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus his
Lord, by whom the world was crucified unto him,
and he unto the world." In our reading of
literature, then, as well as in every other branch
of our work, we must earnestly pray that the "love
of Christ may constrain us." Lord Brougham has
suggested that it is important for every reader, who
would read with profit, to aim at unity in his
Hints for the Study, 91
studies. There should be some one subject or
branch of thought kept prominent in his mind.
No matter how varied his reading, there should be
a constant under-current of endeavour to make it
bear on this one specialite of his. Thus desultori-
ness in study will be prevented ; and as many
blossoms are strung by children's hands on one
twine, so all the books he reads, and lines of
thought he pursues, will be kept from waste and
dispersion by their connection with his one leading
topic. A noble unity is given to all the reading
of a minister of Christ, by the one great object
that dominates his life. He wants to bring men
from darkness to light, from the power of Satan to
God. He wants to be a real helper to human
hearts. In all his reading of all kinds he should
keep this well in mind. I want to be a helper; is
there anything here that will help me to help? In
theology, in history, in essay, in poem, in fiction,
in whatsoever book he takes in his hand, the same
search should be prosecuted. Is any light thrown
here on the working of my brethren's hearts, on
their dangers, their difficulties, their mistakes, their
delusions } Can I get any hint here as to how I
might reach them more directly, or bring to bear
on them more effectively the glorious revelation
of God } Thus manifold lines of reading do not
92 Hints for the Stttdy,
distract his mind or dissipate his mental energies.
The varying notes are attuned to one harmony,
the many-coloured rays are concentrated into one
focus. All he reads, whether light or serious,
religious or secular, is made subservient to one end,
and that end is the great object of his life, to bless
and elevate his fellow-men, to help them to know the
true and do the right, and fulfil their great human
mission to " minister in the temple of immensity.'
VIII. Before, however, passing away from the
subject of the clergyman's reading, I should like
to suggest, as a practical hint, that to prevent
desultoriness, it is well to have always one good
solid book on hand. The subjective unity I have
spoken of would hardly be a sufficient safeguard
without some external help. There may be
varieties and light delicacies of many kinds at
your table, but in order to make a wholesome meal
you require a sufficient allowance of plain sub-
stantial food. See that it is the same in your
reading. The review, the poem, the pleasant essay,
are very well in their way ; but if you have not
some book that will call out your mental energies,
your soul will soon " loathe the light food." One
really carefully written work, either old or new,
one book that has in.it thought and materials for
thought, and that will need concentrated attention
Hints for the Study, 93
ought to be part of your daily study. And the
advance of your mark in this book, or the reproach
of its long residence in nearly the same place, will
help to remind you how far you are steadily
studying, or how far you are letting yourself grow
into a mere literary dilettante.
CHAPTER VIL
WORK ON THE KNEES.
XT 7"E are now leaving the quiet study, and
^ ^ about to sally forth on the practical work
of our parish. This is the best time, therefore, to
speak of the great tie that binds together the out-
side and the inside work. I do not know whether
it is itself carried on most out of doors or indoors.
I do not know whether there is most real prayer
under the vault of heaven, in the momentary pauses
during the anxious work of life, or when we enter
into our closet, and shut the door, and there pour
out the yearnings of our hearts to the Father
which seeth in secret.
The work of our ministry is a tremendously
arduous work. Its sphere is that region so diffi-
cult of access from without, the human spirit, the
human will. How hard it is for one man to make
another man better !
** Each in his hidden sphere of joy and woe,
Our hermit spirits dwell, and range apart."
Work on the Knees. 95
The solemn, lonely, separate individuality of each
soul is such that even the Omnipotent One was
obliged to say, " How often would I, . . . but ye
would not." Miserably powerless we feel at the
door of this impregnable citadel — another human
being. It is one of the disappointments of mini-
sterial life to find out this powerlessness of words.
We feel deeply ourselves, our convictions are strong
and intense ; we think that our enthusiasm must
carry all before it : " If I can but speak to that man,
if I can tell him what is in my heart, if I can plead
with him face to face, and talk to him of the base-
ness and misery of sin, and the glory of righteous-
ness, and the mercy of the Saviour ; if I can be-
seech him with the passion of love and longing for
his salvation that I feel v/ithin me, he must yield
— it would be impossible for him to resist." I make
my attempt full of triumphant anticipation. The
man stares at me stolidly — he does not under-
stand me — or he moves uneasily away. He gives
a polite assent that means nothing. I see that I
have not moved him in the least. Though I were
to speak to him with the tongues of men and
angels, it would not divert for a moment his
interest in the odds on the Derby, or in the rise
or fall of the price of bullocks.
And it is not only my stolid friend that is un-
96 Work on the Knees.
moved by my eloquence. I begin to find, as I go
about among men and women, how hard it is, in
the press and hurry of life, amidst its thousand
interests, and pleasures, and pains, and eager de-
sires, and daily companionships, and habitual set-
ting of the thoughts into time-worn channels —
how hard it is to get any practical influence on any
one. And emotions change so fast, and other in-
fluences come so quickly, that for my influence to
be a permanent power in changing the current of
a life seems almost impossible. And truly, to any
large or decisive extent, "with men it is impos-
sible." Therefore, he who would carry out mini-
sterial work with any eflect is driven to prayer.
His experience of powerlessness sends him to the
Omnipotent Power.
In order to have praying and working effect-
ively combined, it is of paramount importance
to believe in the reality of prayer. It is easy to
believe in the reality of work. We see it. We see
it, in spite of many a failure, still manifestly a real
power. Self-complacency sometimes, perhaps,
leads us to exaggerate the value and effectiveness
of our own work. But prayer — it is an invisi-
ble mysterious agency. I cannot conceive how
it works. Nothing can enable me to be certain
that it is a reality, except that faith which is
Work on the Knees. 97
the "evidence of things not seen." If I am to
pray, I must believe that there is a Power above
and beyond human will and thought that works
on human will and thought. I must believe
that my will can reach and influence that Power,
and that It can reach and influence others. But
that is only another way of saying that I must
be a believer in God. And unless I am, unless
I know Him to be as real as my own soul, I
have nothing to teach mankind, and am as little
capable of working as I am of praying. And
I need not rely less in the reality of prayer,
because the more I think of it the more incon-
ceivable it seems. The same is true as to all
the phenomena of that mystery of mysteries — life.
The connection between my volition and the
substances of which my bodily nerves and joints
are composed defies explanation. That a desire
in my heart should " move the arm that moves
the world " is indeed an inscrutable mystery,
but that it should move the muscles and bones
of my own arm is in reality as entirely beyond
explanation.
Let me then believe, as a matter of faith, that
I have a God that heareth prayer. Let it be
a deeply felt conviction underlying all my life
that every whisper of my heart to Him reaches
7
9 8 Work on the Knees.
His ear, and becomes an infinite power ; so shall
I feel that when I am praying I am employing
the mightiest conceivable agency. In proportion
as by faith, by standing face to face with the
unseen, I realize this great truth — in that pro-
portion shall I become a man of prayer, a man
who holds free and loving intercourse with the
King of kings, a man whose poor human efforts
produce effects beyond what could have been
thought of or dreamed of, because they are
accompanied by the power and blessing of the
Omnipotent One.
With this conviction as to the reality of prayer
strong on our hearts, we shall endeavour always
to make our praying keep pace with our working.
It has been said that a good sermon is always
prepared " on the knees." I believe it is the
same with all our work. It is only well done
" on the knees." Before the work is undertaken, it
is commended to God for His blessing. While
it is being carried out, though the body may be
active, and the mind with all its energies at full
stretch, yet the spirit is in the attitude of prayer.
And when the work is done, it is followed with
renewed beseechings that its weakness and faults
may be pardoned, and that through its stum-
bling efforts a real benefaction may be conveyed.
Work on the Knees, 99
Thus the daily parochial round becomes a
walk with God. Before we start, as we lay
out the programme of duty in our minds, we
spread it before Him in prayer. We tell Him
what we are going to do, whom we are going
to see. As we knock at each door, the heart
is knocking at heaven's gate, that it may be
gYWQVi to us what to say. As we kneel by the
bedside of the sick and dying, we speak for
them with happy confidence to the known and
trusted Friend who is standing between us and
them. As we mount the pulpit stairs, the hand
may cling to the railing with a tremble of natural
nervousness, but the heart clings in childlike
trust to the hand stretched out from on hip-h,
and strong in His strength we speak to the
few or the many, the learned or the unlearned,
the great or the humble, the message He bids
us speak for Him. And then, when the evening
comes, and we kneel in the sohtude of our
chamber, we tell Him the story of our work,
and one by one we bring Him the names of
those whom we have seen and spoken to ; and
those whom we have toiled for in the day we
pray for now ; and we tell our Father of our
hopes for them and our fears for them ; and
believing that He loves us, and hears our prayer,
lOO Work on the Knees,
we lay out their cases before Him, and plead for
them, that they may be pardoned, strengthened,
and comforted. And so the sacred bond between
pastor and people grows closer and dearer as
it is embodied in the golden link of sweet com-
munion between the pastor and his God.
But nowhere probably is the strength and
sacredness of that bond between people and pastor
and Father in heaven brought into greater
prominence than in the place where pastor and
people generally meet first, and meet most often.
If prayer is the golden" link, where does it flash
and shine so vividly as in the "house of prayer".?
Wearing the vestments that mark him out as a
minister of the sanctuary, the pastor takes his
place there among the people to whose help his
life is to be dedicated. There, in that building
hallowed by so many associations — where the
bride and bridegeoom have been joined together
in holy union, and the young mothers have
brought their babes to the font, and the mourners
have laid down their dead for a little while, to let
the solemn hush of sorrow be broken by the words
of Christian hope and triumph ; there, where those
whom God entrusts to the pastor's keeping are so
often to meet in prayer and praise to the Father
in heaven, he kneels with them now to lead them
Work on the Knees. loi
in worship. Much of his ministerial work will
have to be carried on in the same place. Hence-
forth the solemn worship of the people, and their
reception of the Sacraments of the Lord Jesus, and
the most sacred epochs of their lives, will be asso-
ciated with him in that church. Is it not well
then that we should dwell for a little while upon
the tone in which this part of our praying work
should be carried on }
I think that the principal notes in the chord of
feeling which should be struck in the sanctuary
ministrations are Reverence, Love, and Joy. God
is everywhere ; every spot in heaven and earth
is holy with His presence. Reverent God's child
should strive to be wherever he is ; so reverent as
to crush every feeling, and to silence every word,
that would be dishonouring to the glorious Being
who is ever by his side. But He who said, " I am
with you always," said also, " Where two or three
are gathered together in My name, there am I in
the midst." He meant something real by this
saying. Therefore the reverence which we should
strive to have in our hearts wherever we are
we should strive specially to express in voice and
look and manner when we come into the house
consecrated to the purpose of meeting together
in the name of the Lord. We need not puzzle
102 Work on the Knees.
ourselves with the question, in what sense is He
with us here more than elsewhere ? We want
to worship Him in a very solemn way here ; we
want together to lift up heart and voice, and
express our homage and devotion to Him ; we
want to make our reverence and loyalty known
to our brethren and to the world. He surely
sympathizes with our wish, and meets us as we
come to Him. In all our demeanour, then, we, as
the leaders of our brethren's worship, should show
that we believe our God is in our midst. Prayer
to Him is a very sacred act ; voice and gesture
should show that we feel it. We are gathering
round a King ; we are speaking to a King, even
the King of kings. Are lounging attitudes and
gabbled words and careless glances suitable
expressions of our approach to His majesty }
Reverent then, with a simple but humble reverence,
should be every posture, every word, every look.
Reverent, not with slavish awe, but with sweet,
filial respect. We are in the presence of a King ;
but the King is our dear Father in Christ Jesus.
We are not afraid of Him ; we do not want to
propitiate Him. We know He accepts and loves
us. Prostrations and grovellings upon the ground
are not suitable to our mutual relation. We and
our brothers and sisters are joining together to
Wo7^k on the Knees. 103
hold communion with our royal and honoured
Father. We do so in a spirit hushed and subdued,
but with the calmest confidence, and without any
burden of awe or fear upon our consciences.
And love should be very present too. We are
a company of brethren joined together by the
closest and dearest bonds. Our united worship is
one of the means by which we express our fellow-
ship one with another ; and as we speak together
to our Father, we learn more and more how sacred is
our companionship and identity of interests. The
Father whom we address is very dear to us. Dear
to us also should be the brethren who are speak-
ing to Him with us. The clergyman is not a
functionary doing something for the people. He
is their elder brother leading them to the common
Father's presence, and saying aloud in their names
what they are saying in their hearts. Sometimes
they join with their voices ; sometimes they speak,
and he is silent. But always it is a company ot
brethren with one brother solemnly ordained and
appointed to be the leader of the rest. A certain
tenderness and unction there should be in the way
he leads their devotions. A dry, hard, official
tone is miserably unseemly for one who is not a
mere clerk paid for his reading, but a brother
praying with his brothers. I say there should be
I04 Work on the Knees.
a certain loving unction in his manner. But great
care must be taken that it should not degenerate
into tmctiwiLsness. A greasy, hypocritical, vulgar
unctuousness, with drawling of voice and rolling
of eyes, is most detestable. Whatever else we are,
we must be simple and unaffected. Let us not
try for affectionate manners and affectionate looks,
but let us try to remember we are in the presence
of a Father whom we love and honour, and of
brethren with whom we sympathise. Uncon-
sciously, and without effort, the outward manner
will reflect what is within.
And joy is to be our other note. Our worship
of our Father is a glad and happy employment.
We must try to feel this, and make it be felt.
Some clergymen seem to think it pious to be
dismal : they read in a slow, mournful, moan-
ing tone ; the more slow, the more pompous, the
more unnatural they are, the more reverent they
suppose themselves to be. There is no reverence
in being either slow or sad. It makes some of
the congregation sleepy ; it drives some of
them wild with impatience ; it makes others, I
fear, titter at the " drony manner" of their " solemn
and stupid parson." Very slow reading is tire-
some and difficult to follow. The operations of
the mind are instantaneous, and your fellow-
Work on the Knees, 105
worshippers have mentally run to the end of your
sentence while you are still drawling on in the
middle of it. They have to stop and wait for you
to begin the next. If reading is too quick, the
ear cannot catch it. The hearing of poor people
and aged people is sometimes a little blunt. But
more time should never be spent in reading a
sentence than is necessary to make it distinctly
heard ; any slowness beyond what is needful for
this distinct utterance produces fatigue. If you try
to appear reverent by your slow manner of conduct-
ing service, you will really be only tiresome.
Let us be " glad to go into the house of the
Lord." Let us feel it to be good and pleasant to
praise Him ; and then, though we have to bow in
humble confession, and pour out eager beseech-
ings and cries for help in trial, and for comfort in
sorrow ; still in our Father's presence, believing
that He forgives all our sins, and remembers them
no more, believing that He knows our wants, and
will give us more than we ask or think ; believing
that our brethren are around us, sharing our
feelings, the predominant tone in our hearts will
be happiness and spiritual refreshment ; and this
inward note will reflect itself in a certain calm
brightness of manner and aspect even in the midst
of our deepest reverence.
CHAPTER VIII.
IN THE PULPIT.
Part I. — The Sernion Matter.
I ^HE Christian preacher comes to his congre-
-■■ gation as a herald or authorized messenger
from God. His first and principal duty is to see
that his message is really delivered. He is not fit
for his office, unless he understands in his heart
what that message is. Why should the messenger
run, if he has no tidings } ^
There may often be the question in the young
preacher's mind, Hoiv shall I speak } But " What
shall I speak about V is a question he should never
need to ask. What on earth shall I say next
Sunday } How shall I ever fill up my twenty
pages of sermon paper, or my fifteen minutes of
sermon time } Is not this a pitiful question for
one who comes as a messenger from the living
God to immortal souls 1 Why did you ask for
* See " Rest Awhile," by Dr. Vaughan.
The Sermon Matter, 107
authority to preach the Gospel in the Church of
God ? Why did you declare your trust that you
were inwardly moved by the Holy Ghost to your
office and administration, if when you come face
to face with your people you do not know what to
say to them ?
What shall I say ? Yes. How shall I find words
to express the glorious things I want to say ?
How shall I put them so that they may come
home fresh and real to my hearers' hearts ? How
shall I bring them warm from my own heart
without cooling and stiffening them in conven-
tional forms of speech ?
But what have I to speak about ? Surely that
which is in my thoughts from day to day and
hour to hour, — that which is the comfort and
strength and joy of my life, — that which is the
most familiar and precious thing in my heart,
though so great and marvellous that my tongue
can hardly utter it. If I do not know what this
is, no matter how well I might be able to speak, I
could not be a Christian preacher.
The message we have to deliver, and the sub-
stance of our teaching, may be described in many
ways, but I believe the simplest and clearest de-
scription of it is that which we so often find in the
New Testament — " preaching Christ." God's great
io8 In the Pulpit.
revelation to man in the Gospel was not a set of
accurate propositions, nor a set of definite precepts,
but a living Person. The Christian creed is the
history of that Person. Christian faith is the affi-
ance of the heart to that Person. Christian morality
is the following of that Person. Christian love
and hope and joy, and power to conquer, all centre
round that Person. Here, then, is what we have
to preach — Christ, the manifestation of God, the
Saviour of sinners, the Holy Sovereign of man-
kind.
In order to preach Him with any reality, my
fellow-workers, you have to recognize, and cause to
be recognized, the meaning and awfulness of that
word " sin." The conscience must be grappled
with. Each man must be brought face to face
with his own soul. There is no meaning nor in-
terest in the Incarnation, nor in all the great truths
connected with it, unless there is the consciousness
of personal sin — sin to be hated and dreaded, sin
to be pardoned, sin to be conquered. Set this
before you as one branch of your great office of
preaching Christ — to have the conscience azvakened.
The more you know of your own heart, the more
earnestly you are striving yourself to be holy even
as He is holy, the more effectively will you be able
to rouse in others the sense of shame and dissatis-
The Sermon Matter. 109
faction with self. Aim at this object more or less
in every sermon. Remember that there are pro-
bably many sitting in the church, looking very
respectable, assenting to every religious statement
with orthodox gravity, but utterly uninterested in
the Gospel of Christ. They are, as to heart and
conscience, fast asleep. You might preach very
nicely, and only make them sleep all the sounder.
Your first business is to awaken them. You must
be very wide awake yourself to do it. A strong,
vigorous grasp, a rough shaking, is often needed.
Ah! unless you are thoroughly, I might say
terribly in earnest, you will let them sleep on.
Many ways you must take to awake the sleepers.
They are so accustomed to be preached at, that
they have a wonderful faculty of dozing on un-
disturbed. " It is all very right, all very true,"
they murmur through their apathy, " but it's
nothing particular to me." You must use every
device that prayerful thought and study and loving
imagination can suggest, to get them to feel that
it is something particular to themselves. Careful
delineations of character, vivid sketches of human
life, close and keen analysis of the heart's motives,
solemn warnings, plain repetitions of Divine threats,
clear exhibitions of what the Lord w^ants us to be.
and what the Lord Jesus, our great pattern, was—
no In the Pulpit.
these and such-like tones must be tried in varying
succession. Often there should be the pause,
the startling question, the bold, earnest appeal —
what are you ? what are you living for ? what
have you done for your Lord ? what is your
position in His sight ? are you a real penitent ?
are you an earnest believer ? are you ready to
meet your God ? The eye, with its eager glance,
the voice, with its tone of determination to
be listened to, as well as its thrill of anxious
longing, should accompany the words of the
questions, and bring home to each heart the
command, " You iimst give attention, you must
look your position in the face, you must take
this question to heart, weigh it, and give it an
honest answer."
In your striving to awaken the conscience, you
must not forget the importance of keeping the
body awake. Take care of a monotonous tone of
voice, take care of a monotonous tone of thought.
What is the commonest fault in preaching } what is
the greatest hindrance to its efficacy ? Is it not
didncss ? " A good sermon, but rather dull ; " how
often you hear this criticism ! What does it mean }
That true things were said, but so said that they
did not interest ; that their truth and reality and
power were not felt. A blunt sword will not cut ;
The Sermon Matter. 1 1 1
a dull sermon will not reach the conscience. The
sword must be sharpened, and the sermon must
be sharpened too. The preacher's laziness or half-
heartedness, want of earnest faith in Christ and
earnest love to men, blunts the edge of his
sermons. Ah ! he needs to be sharpened him-
self; stirred up continually to fresh energy and
communion with his Saviour, and affectionate
interest for his fellow-men. Nothing prevents
dulness so effectually as energy and zeal. The
snore from the pew is often only the echo of the
snore from the pulpit.
But pains must be taken to give variety and
mterest to our appeals to the conscience.
Earnestness is the chief thing, but even
earnestness, unskillfully expressed, may become
tiresome : to some classes of mind it is
particularly tiresome. "Above all," says the
French courtier, " let us have no zeal." There is
a selfish though polished refinement, a " man of
the world " culture, that feels itself wearied and
" bored " by any show of earnestness. Mere
vehemence only sends such natures into the
slumber of languid disgust ; the more the honest
preacher thunders, the sounder they sleep. Art
and skill, as well as earnestness of purpose, must
be used to arouse attention. The imagination
112 In the Ptclpit.
should be always busy in finding fresh and
interesting ways of putting the old truth. The
cunning angler whom we lately spoke of changes
the dressing of his fly according to the changes
of the weather, or according to the character of
the waters in which he plies his craft. The sharp
hook is always the same, but the glistening silk
and coloured feathers will vary according as the
sky is bright or grey, and the stream sluggish or
rapid. The solemn truth we preach is always the
same, the awful realities we have to press on the
conscience are the same ; but the skill of the
preacher is showm in the varied aspects in which
he can put the truth, the varied illustrations he
can bring to make it felt and thought of, and the
varied and attractive lights in which he can make
it gleam and glisten to catch the attention and
arouse the interest of his listeners. No doubt
there are great natural differences between men
in this respect. Some are quick in fancy, fertile
in imagination, warm in sympathy. These are
nature's orators. Great is their privilege, great
their responsibility, too, to use their rich endow-
ments for the benefit of their fellow-men and the
glory of their God. But the rank and file of men
have not these facilities. By reading, observation,
thought, and earnest effort, we ordinary people
The Scruion Matter. \ 1 3
must try to fit ourselves more and more for the
difficult task of arresting the attention and con-
vincing the conscience. We must study to be
interesting. We must be continually on the
watch for thoughts, ideas, illustrations, which
will brighten our addresses, and relieve their
monotony. A young clergyman, who found that
his preaching was considered rather heavy, asked
me, not long ago, to recommend him some book
in which he might find similes to put into his
sermons. I fear I was not able to give him
much satisfaction. I know of no shop where you
can buy second-hand clothes to dress your ideas
in. Your own thoughts and borrowed adorn-
ments seldom go well together. But though you
cannot get your illustrations ready made, yet
every book you read, every walk you take, every
sight you see, every friend you speak to, will,
if you are observant and thoughtful, furnish
materials for varying, beautifying, and brightening
your productions.
Try, then, by every device your ingenuity can
suggest, to interest your hearers. Keep them
awake ; make them listen to you ; change your
style and method of address ; do not let their
attention flag, do not let their eyes close ; get
them to think, to wonder, to sympathize, to
8
114 ^^^ i^^^ Pulpit.
enjoy ; but all so that you may reach the
conscience. Keep this object before you con-
tinually. You are an ambassador of God to
speak to men about the Lord Jesus Christ. You
must constrain them to listen, whether they like
it or not. You must awaken that part of the
complex nature to which Christ's message is
addressed. You must perform the preliminary
office of the rough, uncompromising prophet,
whose voice rang through the wilderness, rousing
men to the consciousness of sin, and so preparing
the way of the Lord.
Oh, how we need that voice still ! How we
need to hear it in our own hearts, wakening us
from indolence and cowardice and self-seeking !
How we need to go out among our people
amidst their apathy and worldliness and secret
scepticism, and make the solemn voice resound
in the conscience, " Repent, for the kingdom of
heaven is at hand."
But very specially the preacher of Christ's
Gospel is a messenger of glad tidings. Over the
dark mountains of human life, shadowed by so
many uncertainties, roughened by so many
difficulties, he comes with the beautiful tread of
one who is sent to publish peace. Never should
the Christian preacher forget this glory of his
The Sermon Matter. 1 1
office. As he stands in his pulpit, and sees
before him the assembly of his brothers and
sisters — sinning, suffering, toiling men and
women — he should feel that he stands there to
bring them comfort and help from the great
unseen Lord.
Christ Jesus came into the world to save
sinners. His whole work on earth was a work
of remedy. Amidst man's mistakes and failures,
sins and woes, He brought guidance, knowledge,
comfort, pardon. This marvellous remedy of
His the preacher has to proclaim. Plainly,
simply, earnestly, with loving reiteration, he has
to make known Christ's salvation. This is the
essential business of his office. He is not a mere
moral policeman, a clerical beadle, to keep people
in order. He is an authorized witness to the
great work God in Christ has done for men. He
must bear his witness, or there is no use in his
preaching.
Christ's love, Christ's sympathy, and pity ; the
pardon of sin there is through faith in Him —
pardon full, free, immediate ; the grand gift of
His Holy Spirit ; the glorious hope for His
Church in the future ; the old, yet ever new
story of how God in Christ Jesus has come to the
rescue of sinful men ; this is what Christ's minister
ii6 In the Pulpit.
has to preach. It is, indeed, a deHghtful office.
It is angels' work. There may be sneers here
and there about old-fashioned theology and tire-
some repetition of worn-out doctrines. But the
messenger of God, strong in his knowledge of
men's wants, strong in his knowledge of God's
provision for them, can afford to let the sneers
pass unheeded.
The simple Gospel of the Lord Jesus can never
be old-fashioned. Music of waves on the sea
shore, carol of birds in the summer sky, sweet
songs from our sisters' voices, — can these ever be
old-fashioned .'' The good news of Divine love and
help and pardon ; can any change of men's ways
of thinking and speaking diminish its sweetness t
As long as there are the same great needs in
human nature, " as long as the heart has passions,
as long as life has woes," so long will the message
that God has sent to man's soul in Christ Jesus
have undiminished freshness.
The preacher may be tiresome, but the Gospel
never can. His way of putting thmgs may be
uninteresting ; dulness of faith and coldness of
love may give the drone to his voice and the
monotony to his style. But the proclamation of
what God is, and what God has done, and what
God promises in Christ Jesus, can never be
The Sermon Matter. 117
anything but a wonder and a glory to men and
angels. Whatever may be your peculiar views
of doctrine on special points, whether you be
High Church, Low Church, or Broad Church, if
you want your people to be happy, if you want
them to be good, if you want them to be earnest,
preach to them with all your heart the good news
that Jesus Christ came into the world to save
sinners.
If you w^ant your people to be good and
earnest, I say preach to them Christ's gospel.
And this is the end we have to set before us in
all our teaching and preaching — to help our
hearers to be good. Christ came not to save
from the consequences of sin, but to save from
sin itself. Moral evil is the great calamity from
which man needs rescue. Sin indulged is hell
begun on earth ; whatever the awful future may
be, it is but the outcome and the carrying on
to its terrible consequence of base and selfish
conduct now. We preach Christ to waken men's
conscience, to comfort their hearts, but very
specially to stir their wills to holy action.
Motives for righteousness and strength for
righteousness we strive to bring them through the
knowledge of the personal God and Saviour.
In every sermon I think we ought to have before
1 1 8 In the Pulpit.
us this practical aim. We should take " the
Word" in its highest sense as the Revelation of
God to man in Christ Jesus, and use it to lift men
up above their natural worldliness and self-seeking
to a nobler platform of desire, aspiration, and
effort. How best to carry out our purpose we
shall consider presently ; but the purpose itself
should be very definitely and very constantly
before our minds. I have to preach Christ as the
Light of the world. I have so to display the
light, that the shadows may flee away. I have to
try to make it so shine in every heart that foul
thoughts may be abashed, and that longings and
strivings for holiness may take the place of worldly
tastes and sinful pleasures. I have to cause the
Lord Jesus to be so felt as a reality, as a real
Presence, a real loving Lord, a real Deliverer and
Friend, that all the enthusiasm of the heart may
be awakened, and all the spiritual energy of the
soul put in motion to spurn the evil, and struggle
for the good.
When Demosthenes finished one of his orations,
the murmur that ran through the people, and
swelled into irresistible acclamation, was, " Let us
go and fight against Philip." That was what he
wanted. If the people had spent their energies
in applauding the beauty of his speech, he would
The Sermon Matter. 1 1 9
have felt that he had failed. He spoke to waken
their patriotism, to inflame their martial ardour, to
rouse them to undying hate of the invader.
All his art, all his powers of persuasion, all his
fierce and passionate eloquence, tended to this
one result — the fight against Philip.
So it should be with us Christian preachers.
If men go away from our sermon saying how
eloquent it was, how sweet the language was, we
have failed. If men go away saying, " I must try
to lead a new life," we have succeeded. Therefore
we grapple with their consciences, therefore we tell
them of redeeming love, therefore we strive to
make the Lord Jesus live before their eyes as a
personal Saviour. We want them to be loyal to
the good and true ; we want them to cut off the
right hand or pluck out the right eye rather than
yield to the evil ; we want them, in the great
world-wide strife between right and wrong, to
be "more than conquerors through Him that
loved us."
CHAPTER IX.
IN THE PULPIT.
Part II. — The Manner of our Preachiiig,
'\7l 7'E have seen what should be the matter
of it ; now we have to consider what
should be its manner — by what practical method
we can best bring this all-important matter be-
fore our people. Let us think first of the struc-
ture of a sermon. It is a short address. It
generally comes after a long service. Brevity is
an essential element in its success. If it goes on
so long that the body of the listener grows weary
and his attention flags, the result is not only
that what is said after the weariness has begun
is useless, but that what was said before is for-
gotten. The long flat end sweeps away the
impression of the keen, bright beginning. Be
the sermon good, bad, or indifferent, it ought
to be short. If it is dull, the less of it we have
The Manner of our Preaching. 1 2 1
the better ; if it is interesting and profitable,
it is a pity to spoil it by that last tiresome ten
minutes. Modern doctors do not insist on such
great doses of physic being swallowed as their
predecessors did : their patients, I suspect, get
well all the quicker for the change. The march
of intellect is leading modern preachers in the
same direction. Whether their sermons are more
or less agreeable to the taste, they are, at all
events, shorter. I suppose we may take from
fifteen to thirty minutes as the limits of an
ordinary sermon. This necessary brevity gives
its peculiar character to the address. There is
no time for rambling from topic to topic. There
is no time for elaborate explanation. A great
work has to be done. Men's consciences have
to be roused, their hearts touched, and their
will stirred to some practical result — all in about
twenty minutes. It is evident that you cannot
speak at random. Care must be taken to say
the things that are the very best to say, and
to leave out all that is needless.
A distinct tuiity in each sermon is therefore
an important element in its construction. You
must not try to say many things, but one thing
strongly and well. There may be various
thoughts and ideas, but they should be all
122 In the Piilpit,
gathered up around some one leading subject.
They should be used to bring that subject into
prominence, to have it understood distinctly,
thought of with interest, and left ringing in the
conscience. Every one ought to be able to tell
what the sermon was about. The subject should
be so used as to touch different chords in the
heart, and produce different results according to
the different needs of the hearers — to inform
the mind, to rouse the conscience, to comfort,
to encourage, or to warn ; but it should be still
the same subject. If this unity is not kept up,
the effect of the sermon is interfered with. One
subject drives out another. The hearers' minds
are confused. And though they may be inter-
ested by the various separate parts of the sermon,
no definite impression on the conscience and will
is left. It is better to drive one nail at a time
well home, than to give random taps to a great
many.
In order to bring out this effective unity, there
should be careful arrangement. I prefer the word
arrangement to division. Divisions may easily
become snares. The large Roman figures, I., II.,
III., and the smaller arables, i, 2, 3, may look
very nice on the paper, but in the pulpit we must
beware lest they cut up the sermon into little bits,
The Manner of our Preaching. 123
and destroy its oneness. There are some lenses
that make the rays of light diverge, and some that
make them converge upon a point. Bad divisions
in a sermon are like the former, wise and skilful
ones like the latter. You take a text, and find in
it three or four truths that lead the mind in quite
different directions. Your divisions are very clear ;
what you say on each head is very nice and true,
but your discourse fails in effect. If it had been a
commentary that you were writing, it would have
been good, but as a sermon it is bad.
In thinking over our text, we must not be
satisfied with finding what are the ideas suggested
by it, and putting them down one after another ;
we must earnestly consider how they can best be
brought out so as to support each other, and lead
all together to one spiritual result. We must con-
sider which may be touched upon lightly, which
left unnoticed for the present, which brought into
strong prominence, which placed first, which kept
for the end. It is necessary to have definite
divisions, so as to be able to think the subject out
thoroughly in our own mind beforehand, and make
it more easily remembered by the hearers afterwards.
But the divisions need not be always expressed.
It is often better that they should be felt as they
follow each other in orderly succession, than that
24 In the Pulpit,
attention should be distracted from the spiritual
thoughts to the mechanical " firstly, secondly,
thirdly." There are times when this mechanical
precision arrests attention ; but it should not be
done too regularly and habitually, lest, instead of
a help to memory, it should become a help to
somnolence.
There should be caution in the expression of
divisions, for fear of monotony, also for fear of an
appearance of artificiality. In preaching as well
as every other laborious human effort, ars est celare
artein. You do require great thought and care
and mental arrangement to carry on your work
for God ; but the traces of your labour ought to
be well swept out of sight. What you say to
your people should come from the heart, warm,
fresh, and simple.
Expression of division must be used with cau-
tion, and division itself must be used with caution,
lest it should be a scattering of thoughts rather
than a grouping of them. But used it must be
very really, if effect is to be produced. It is well
to consider from the beginning what is the last
thought to be pressed home. Sometimes you may
think it best to have it a thought to comfort and
cheer, or to lead on to the heavenly future.
Sometimes you may think it better to have it an
The Manner of our Preaching. 125
urging to a definite practical duty ; sometimes a
final grappling with souls, an intensely earnest set-
ing before them the eternal issues to be chosen.
The whole order of the sermon will depend a good
deal upon what is to be its conclusion. If the
conclusion is to be comforting, the appropriate
place must be determined on for warning. If it
is to be a practical appeal, the doctrinal exposi-
tion or spiritual invitation should be placed in a
due position. If it is to be the close, earnest, life-
or-death wrestling with souls that we spoke of, the
rest of the sermon, step by step, through explana-
tions to the understanding, and motives for the
heart and conscience, should lead up to the
solemn ending. Thus one part of the sermon is
so dependent on the others, that the order of
thought needs to be carefully laid out beforehand.
I need hardly say that this order and careful
pre-arrangement should be used to help and
strengthen the preacher, but not to bind him. He
may occasionally feel it necessary, as he speaks,
to deviate considerably from his prepared order, or
even to throw it aside altogether. If he is a man
of faith and prayer, a diligent student of Holy
Scripture, he need not be afraid sometimes to let
the rush of fresh thoughts that have come into
his heart, as he looks at his people, carry him
126 In the Pulpit.
over and beyond the boundaries he had marked
out. But the stream will generally be strongest
and most efficient for its work when it flows in
the channel that prayerful forethought has traced.
Needful as it is to have variety in the matter of
our sermons, it is equally needful to have it in the
arrangement of them. Our thoughts might easily
take a kind of stereotyped pattern, and every
subject be pressed into its unchanging mould.
How easy it is to tell beforehand how a certain
kind of preacher will treat any text ! To-day's
text is not the least like last Sunday's ; but we
may be sure that the sermon will be almost exactly
the same. And no matter what texts the preacher
takes, he contrives to squeeze them all into the
same mould, and turn them out in the same shape.
And in reality the temptation to run thus into a
regular and always recurring order is. very great.
Your own mind and natural character always re-
main the same ; the objects you want to attain in
preaching are always the same, or nearly the same;
and the wants of your people are the same. But
if you try to supply those wants always in the
same way, the appetite for your nourishment will
pall, and the efficacy of }^our medicine will wear
out by repetition. You must be very determined,
therefore, to change and vary from week to week
The Manner of our Preaching. 1 2 7
your method of approaching and striving to
influence souls. And the book from which your
teaching is drawn is a wonderful help in this effort.
What a marvellous variety there is in the Efble !
If you strive to bring out faithfully, and cause to
be felt in your hearers' hearts, the thoughts of the
inspired writer, and not thoughts of your own,
which you can manage ingeniously to hang on to
them, your way of addressing men, and the
arrangement of ideas you bring before them, must
have constant variety.
One sermon should vary in its method of
structure from another, and one part of the same
sermon should vary in its tone from other parts. If
you are too intense all through, attention becomes
fatigued, and effect is lost. There should be in a
picture repose as well as movement, and so there
should be in a sermon. Part should be calm and
deliberate, instructing the understanding and
persuading the judgment ; part should be fervent,
impassioned, bold, shaking men's hearts with its
vehemence, wrestling with their conscience, and
refusing to let them go till they hearken and yield.
A famous old Welsh preacher (Christmas Evans)
puts this important principle in arrangement with
such an apt illustration, that I cannot conclude
our consideration of the structure of a sermon
128 In the Pulpit.
better than by describing it. I do not remember
his exact v/ords, but what he says is to this
effect : " There is no use in striking cold iron.
You may hit away and make plenty of noise, but
you make no change in the shape of the metal.
Even so there is no use in fervent appeal and
thundering words to a congregation, before their
hearts have been brought up to the proper heat.
You make a noise, and fatigue yourself and them,
but you do not influence them. Observe how the
smith deals with the iron ; carefully he lays it in
the fire, gently and deftly he draws the coals all
over it, then gradually the bellows blow the embers
into a warmer glow ; quietly he stands by ; the
great hammer is idle in his brawny hand till he
sees that the white heat is reached ; then the glow-
ing iron, all hot and sparkling, is laid on the anvil,
and blow after blow falls upon it irresistibly.
Harder and harder he hits, and never stops for
breath till the iron is plunged into the water, beaten
into its proper shape. So should the preacher deal
with the human soul. Quietly and gently he should
put him in contact with the truth of God ; with
care and skilful exposition its meaning should be
brought out before him ; closely and more closely
it should be brought to press on his conscience,
till the heart begins to burn and glow, and interest
The Manner of our Preaching. 129
is felt, and consciousness of sin, and hopes and
desires for better things ; then, when attention
has been thoroughly roused, and the sympathies
enlisted, then let the great sledge-hammer blows
strike home ; then let yourself loose in all the
fervour of longing desire to save ; then pour out
your appeals, your warnings, your eager invitations;
and the terror of the Lord, and the foulness of sin,
and the love of Christ, and the cross of Calvary,
and the beauty of holiness, and the glory of
eternity, and every emotion that the heart can
feel, should be used to bring it to the personal,
individual question, ' What must I do to be
saved ?' and to the definite resolve of the will, 'I
will arise and go to my Father,' or, ' Lord, I will
follow Thee whithersoever Thou goest.'"
These remarks upon the structure of a
sermon show pretty plainly that its preparation
must take much time and thought. In one sense,
all your life is a preparation for your preaching.
Your inward life of communion with God, your
outward life of service, your intellectual life of
study, thought, and observation — all contribute to
make you full of matter, and more and more
strong, earnest, and wise to bring that sacred
matter to bear in your great work of winning
souls. And if from time to time you are called
9
ijo In the Piilpit.
on unexpectedly to preach, you cannot be said to
be unprepared. Knowing your Lord and Master
personally and (may we not dare to say it ?)
intimately, knowing well the wants and needs of
your brethren, familiar with the teaching of Holy
Scripture, you may perhaps at such times preach
with a power and warmth that surprises yourself
The instinct of the loving heart and the well-
stored mind will be better than any rules of
rhetoric. Yes ! may you not in such a case take
to yourself the promise of our Lord, " The Holy
Ghost shall teach you in that hour what to
speak " ? But special preparation for each sermon
should certainly be your rule. Whether you
write or preach " extempore," as it is called, the
preparation is equally needful. There are certain
advantages in each plan. But the writer should
study and prepare, so as to attain as much as
possible the advantages of the speaker, and the
speaker should study so as to secure the
advantages of the writer. I do not think the
two methods need be compared with each other,
or put into competition. I think the same person
may with benefit to himself and his people adopt
both. Careful writing will make him a more
thoughtful and accurate speaker, and frequent
speaking will make him write with quicker
The Manner of otir Preaching. 1 3 1
movement and a more bright, lucid, and
attractive style.
In preparing a written sermon, the first thing
to be done is to have it thoroughly thought out
from beginning to end. The leading ideas, the
point of highest intensity, the conclusion, the
main thought intended to be driven home — this
should be carefully arranged in the mind before
beginning to write, even as the ship-builder draws
out all the lines of the ship before a timber is laid
down. Otherwise, as you write, you may be
tempted to stray away into tempting collateral
thoughts, and have your paper all written over
before the principal lesson of the sermon has
made its appearance at all.
And in writing it is very important to keep in
view the people to whom you are to preach. If
you are speaking, as you look at people's faces
you instinctively suit your words to the people
you address. When you write, you are in danger
of merely expressing what you think and feel
yourself, or of addressing an auditory of the same
mental tone as your own. So it often happens
that what in one sense might be called a good
sermon is practically a bad sermon. It does not
fulfil its object. It does not enlighten, persuade,
or move the people to whom it is addressed.
132 In the Pulpit.
The children do not listen to it at all. The
farmers think it mighty fine, but too learned for
them. The ladies think it dull. The country
gentlemen wonder what on earth that young
parson is driving at, and the scholars and
theologians who might be interested in its
discussions are not there to hear. The thoughtful,
carefully prepared sermon is preached, but none
of its hearers are edified. It has not done its
work. It is a failure. The preacher in his study
thought of his subject, but did not think of the
hearts and consciences to whom his subject was
to be medicine of Divine healing.
The remedy for this fault is to have vividly
before the mind as you write a picture of the
congregation. Fill the church pews with their
accui^tomed occupants. Put the fat farmer into
his corner, and the poor widow with the shabby
bonnet, and the bustling shopkeeper, and the
lounging young men, and the fashionable ladies,
and the red-faced squire, and the footmen and
housemaids, and the schoolboys and schoolgirls,
and the anxious and earnest faces every here and
there that you know so well, and that seem to
gaze on you with such a hungry desire to get
some real food, some comfort and strength for the
hard battle they are waging — put them all in
The Manner of our Preaching, 133
their places. Look at them before you kneel
down to ask for guidance in planning out the
sermon. Look at them as you are laying out its
divisions. Lift up your eyes from your desk,
every now and then, as you write, and look
straight into their faces. How do they return
your look.? Does the fat farmer understand.?
Does the footman care .? Does the fine gentle-
man stop twirling his moustache for an instant to
attend? Are the hungry and anxious ones
soothed and satisfied }
Instinctively, as you ask yourself these questions,
the style of your writing is modified. It becomes
more flexible, more lifelike. Stilted and formal
sentences are scratched out with scornful impa-
tience. You are a man and a brother, speaking
to men and brethren, and not a student writing
a theme. And when you come to preach your
sermon on Sunday, you will find yourself able, not
merely to read it, but truly to preach it. You
will feel it to be a real address to the very people
before you. Their attention will be aroused, their
sympathies kindled: your written sermon will
be poured out from your heart into theirs with the
same kind of warmth as if it came from the im-
pulse of the moment. You will be able to speak
It to them because you wrote \\. for them.
134 J^ i^^^ Ptdpit.
And if your sermon is not to be written out,
all the more necessary it is that it should be
well thought out. The temptation to careless
work is then very great. It is so easy and natural
to save yourself trouble and accurate thinking by
leaving the hard parts to chance, or to the inspi-
ration of the moment in the pulpit. This tempta-
tion should be conscientiously resisted. Every
detail of your subject should be mastered. The
whole sermon should be mentally preached to the
mental audience. The divisions and subdivisions
should be clearly impressed on the mind. The
substance of all that is to be said, from beginning
to end, should be well digested. Here and there,
on important or difficult points, it is well to have
the very words pre-arranged.
Great care should be taken about the conclusion.
A good beginning, it is said, is the half of all, but
a good ending is, to a sermon, almost the whole.
It is just the part that is most apt to be slurred
over — left after the other thoughts to a kind of
mental " etc., etc.," left to be finished with the
pious hortatory words that come up to the mind
at the moment. Very likely, by the time you
reach the conclusion of your sermon, your body
will be tired, or your feelings so excited that
you have lost something of your presence of
The Manne}^ of our Preaching. 135
mind, and your last words, if not well prepared,
ramble off into vague generalities, and the part o
your address that ought to be strongest, most in-
cisive, most calculated to live, is the weakest and
most commonplace of it all. The child has been
brought to the birth, but there has not been
strength to deliver. The arrow has been drawn
to the head, but the hand has been too nerveless
to speed it forth on its flight. In preaching, it is
specially true that " the end crowns the work."
The plant that God makes grows higher and higher
with its tapering stem ; it throws out its rich leaves
from side to side as it rises ; but it finishes its
course with the expanding petals and glowing
colours of its flower. In that with which it ends
is gathered up the strength and glory of the whole.
Something like this should be a really well-
organized address — growing, gathering strength,
increasing in intensity and loftiness of thought,
and culminating in its earnest, loving, and happy
peroration.
I trust it is hardly necessary to repeat here
what we thought of together some little time ago
— that the sermon should be prepared "on the
knees." If in any part of our work we should
feel our weakness and insufficiency, if in any of it
we should feel the need of castincf ourselves en-
36 In the Pulpit
tirely upon the guiding and support of our Father's
arm, surely it is in this, the most solemn and the
most difficult branch of it all. This must be in-
deed " begun, continued, and ended in Himy In
choosing our text. His advice must be sought in a
childlike spirit. In thinking out its meaning, in
trying to feel the force of its teaching in our own
hearts, in deciding on its most profitable arrange-
ment, in thinking over the persons to whom it is
to be preached, and considering how its truth will
best help their various spiritual needs, guidance,
wisdom, strength must be supplicated from the
same Source. The preparation of the heart, as
well as the answer of the lips, is fro m the Lord ;
and if the preaching of the sermon is to be an
earnest wrestling, as for life and death, with men's
hearts and consciences in the church, the making
ready for it must be another wrestling, the wrest-
ling in spirit with our God, wrestling with Him in
a very agony of prayer that He may give us the
right thoughts to think and the right words to say,
and above all, that He may give us the souls to
whom we preach for our hire.
And now, the preparation over, the sermon
ready, thought out clearly in our minds, or written
out in our hands, now as we stand in the pulpit,
how are we to deliver it ? Perhaps the best
The Manner of ottr Preaching. 137
answer to this question would be, " Do not think
about delivering it at all, only think of the
subject you have to speak of, and the people
you have to speak to. Let your mind be full
of your message, and your heart full of your
flock, and let the delivery take care of itself.
In other words, the most important part of good
delivery is self-forgetfiilnessr Wise advice this
is to give, but not so easy to follow.
Less of self, and more of Thee,
None of self, and all of Thee "-
How we need this prayer at all times ! how
specially we need it in the pulpit ! xA.ll eyes
turning to us, all hearts expecting something
from us, all minds, we fancy, judging and criti-
cising us, — how hard to forget self, how hard
to put away the shyness and timidity on the
one hand, or the self-conceit and swagger on
the other hand, that arise from the same source —
self-consciousness.
A real love of our people, fostered by ac-
quaintance with them, and by familiarity with
their troubles and temptations ; a real love of
our Master, fostered by close and constant com-
munion with Him, and an habitual sense of the
reality and awfulness of the great subjects on
138 In the Pulpit,
which we speak, are the powers which drive
away self-consciousness. As the souls of the
people come into the foreground, self shrinks
into the background. If you are trying to
rescue a darling child out of a fire, will you
care about how you look } You think of the
little one sleeping in its cradle, you think of its
piteous cry, and the fierceness of the devouring
flames ; you have no thought about yourself,
except that you will press through smoke and
fire and falling timbers, snatch your babe from
its peril, or perish in the attempt. This may
be an exaggerated picture of what we do feel
when addressing our congregations, but it is an
exaggerated picture of what we ought to feel }
I believe that there is eternal life or eternal
death before each of these people on whom I
am looking. I believe that there are dangers
round each of them, more really awful than
the scorching flame. I believe that God allows
me now an opportunity of rescuing them from
their peril. Can I stop to think of what kind
of appearance I make, or whether my words
sound pretty or ugly } How can I help these
souls } how can I deliver them } that is the
only thought worth thinking of Anxiety for
our people, and forgetfulness of self, then, is the
The Manner of our Preaching. 1 39
first qualification for the efficient delivery of a
sermon.
It may sound inconsistent with this, and yet
I believe it is true, that self-possession is almost
equally necessary. Nervous fuss and flurry must
be put away. The preacher should be calm
and at his ease, though intensely earnest. A
horse soon knows if his rider is afraid of him.
A congregation quickly discover the same with
regard to a preacher. If they see he is ner-
vous, they become nervous too, afraid he may
break down, and cause an unpleasant sensation ;
or else their sense of the ludicrous is awakened,
and they are amused at the fidgety movements
of their frightened instructor. Do not be afraid
of your congregation, then. The grim old lady
with spectacles, who stares so solemnly, looks
formidable, no doubt, and so does the portly
squire, and the supercilious young officer, and
the stolid churchwarden. But they are not so
terrible as they look. The old lady will have
to take off her spectacles, and put her wrinkled
face within the frills of her nightcap ; she is
only a poor, weary, worn human pilgrim, after
all ; and the squire knows the pinch of care
and sorrow ; and the smart officer has his hopes
and fears and disappointments, very much like
140 In the Pulpit.
yourself ; and even the churchwarden has some-
where under that capacious waistcoat a human
heart that beats and throbs like your own.
Stand up, then, Hke a man before your con-
gregation, to teach them, and not to tremble
at them. They can do you no harm, but you
can do them great harm. You can send those
who have come to be fed by the Word of God
empty and hungry away. You can send them
away more deeply steeped than before in spiritual
slumber, more comfortably satisfied with them-
selves, harder henceforth to be awakened and
touched. If you give them only empty common-
places, if you do not really speak straight and
true, home to their conscience, you hurt them
grievously. Pity the poor people if you preach
badly. Tremble for them, but do not tremble
at them. Standing in your responsible position^
put away from you the fear of man. Be de-
liberate in your speech. Take your time to
say what you want to say. If you have not
made it plain, stop and say it again. Do not
think it a calamity if you have to pause a moment
to think, or if you have to hesitate for an instant
for the choice of a word. It is much more
important to get the right word, than to flow
on in an uninterrupted stream. It is not the
The Manner of our Preaching. 141
smoothness of your speech, but its force, that
touches the conscience.
Closely connected with self-possession is the
habit of looking at your congregation. Look
them straight in the face, not with a nervous
flickering glance, but steadily, quietly, deliberately
look from one to the other. You know how dis-
agreeable it is in conversation when the speaker
will not look at you; he looks down at your
waistcoat buttons, up at the ceiling, his eyes waver
restlessly hither and thither, but you never can
calmly and peaceably meet them. It is hard to
feel that he is really speaking to you, and wanting
you to listen to him. Beware of this fault in
preaching. You want to speak to those people
down in the pews. You have something to say
to them, that you are anxious they should listen
to. Look at them, then, before you speak. Look
at them while you are speaking. Let your eye
attentively pass from face to face, not staying too
long on any one, but resting on each deliberately.
It will help you in your speaking, it will help them
in their listening. Your heart w411 catch the re-
sponse of their unspoken sympathy. They will
feel that you mean what you say, and that it is to
their own very selves you are speaking. If their
attention is flagging, if you are beginning to weary
142 In the Pulpit.
them, you will perceive it at once. You can change
your tone, enliven your manner, and waken up
both yourself and them in a fresh start of reviving
interest.
And looking at them will help you in another
important part of delivery, the management of the
voice. Be the matter of your preaching ever so
good, it is not likely to be of use if it is not heard.
And if it is heard as a shout or a roar, it will be so
fatiguing and irritating to the ear, that it will hardly
touch the heart. To modulate the voice, to speak
so loudly as to be heard by all, and yet not loudly
enough to weary any, is an art of prime necessity to
a public speaker. Nothing facilitates it so much
as the habit of looking at the people to whom you
speak. Without effort, without premeditation, the
voice, that wonderfully sensitive and wonderfully
obedient messenger of the soul, adapts itself to its
work, and knows the best tone in which to deliver
its message. If the church is large, and the con-
gregation crowded, it is well to address yourself
chiefly to the people who are farthest away. Look
pretty often at the sitters in that corner behind the
pillars. Be sure that the shabby old man close
to the western door can hear what you say. If
your voice carries well to the far regions, it is sure
to be heard by those who are near. In trying to
The Manner of 02cr Preaching, 14
make yourself well heard, be more careful about the
distinctness of your utterance than its loudness. It
is not at all easy to listen to shouting. The noise
is heard only too plainly, but not the articulate
words. A distinct whisper will carry farther than
a gruff roar.
But in trying to speak distinctly, beware of an
artificial utterance. Do not make the consonants
sound in a different way from what they do in
ordinary speech. The sonorous smack and pompous
mouthing, with which some speakers try to make
themselves heard, is as contrary to good sense as it
is to good taste. Be careful to finish your words,
be careful not to drop your voice at the end of a
sentence, be careful not to hurry your utterance, and
to give sufficient time between your sentences.
But see that you do not exchange the manly and
straightforward speech of a Christian gentleman
for the vulgar declamation of a second-rate stage
player. Be on your guard also against tricks of
manner and gesture in the pulpit. In the excite-
ment and eagerness of your efforts, these might
easily steal upon you unawares. Sawing the hand
up and down, shrugging the shoulders, swaying
the body to and fro, raising and lowering it in a
kind of curtseying motion — these awkward and
ungainly habits distract attention, and take away
144 ^'^ ^^^^ Pulpit.
from your hearers something of the sense of the
dignity of your office, and of the " sweetness and
light" of your message.
Let whatever action you use be natural and
simple, but let it be guarded at the same time. It
is better to err on the side of quietness than of
exaggerated gesticulation. The movements of the
body, the movements of the hands, as well as the
movements of the countenance, naturally go with
the emotions of the heart, and help the voice to
utter them. But a certain amount of self-restraint
may be necessary in order to prevent their hinder-
ing, instead of helping, expression. If you are
naturally inclined to vehemence of movement, to
work your body and hands as your mind is in its
travail pangs, you must take care lest in .your
eager labour you should make yourself tiresome
or ridiculous.
We conclude, then, this matter of delivery as we
began it. Think of your people, think of your
subject, think of your Master. Pray, as you enter
the pulpit, that you may be helped in speaking, and
that your words may be a real blessing to the
congregation. Look at your people as you stand
there, and think of the eternal destinies that are
before them ; think of the eager human hearts
represented by all those quiet faces ; think of the
The Man7ier of our Preaching. 145
many perils, and temptations, and difficulties, and
anxieties, and trials that press upon them. Think
of the awfulness of having one of those souls lost,
the joy and delight of having one of them rescued
from sin, and saved for evermore. Think of
the Lord Jesus and His yearning love for those
immortal beings. Remember that He sends you
to those individuals to teach them, to warn them,
to invite them, to plead with them in His name.
Then, lifting up your heart to Him for help, lift
up your voice and speak what you have thought
and prayed over, and what you believe it is best
for you to say. Speak it boldly and without fear
of man ; speak it with a tremble of solemn awe at
the same time, feeling your own insufficiency and
the sacredness of God's Word ; speak it quietly and
deliberately ; speak it so that it can be well heard ;
speak it with straightforward, manly simplicity, as
something you know ought to be listened to; speak
it with solemn earnestness, as something you know
it would be dangerous to neglect; speak it with
affectionate, even passionate, vehemence sometimes,
longing to help your brethren, longing to rescue
them from their perils, and to win them for ever-
lasting life. And then, in the hush that follows
the close of your earnest address, commend your-
self and your hearers to God Almighty, that He
10
46 In the Pulpit.
may forgive you your faults in preaching, and for-
give them their faults in listening, and that the
dew of His Spirit may water the sowing of His
word, and that you and your people may rejoice
together in the harvest thanksgiving on high.
CHAPTER X.
REACHING YOUNG HEARTS.
The clergyman's mission is to the soul of every
human being in his parish. But his work among
young people is specially important. In youth
are formed to a great degree the habits of feeling
and acting which give the permanent set to the
character. Human hearts are more easily reached
and influenced then than in after-life. When a
man has grown old it is hard to rouse him to
new feelings or to stir his wiH sufficiently to make
him break through long-established habits of life.
Something of dulness, something of obstinacy per-
haps, something of easy-going indolence, makes
him rather deaf to the voice that tries to charm
him be it never so wisely. There used to be an
idea that when young people had "sown their
wild oats," and had grown graver and wiser
through the lapse of years, it would be easier to
get them to be religious. It may be easier to get
48 RcacJiing Young Hearts.
them to look religious, but all experience has
shown us that it is infinitely more difficult to lead,
them really to be religious. The wild oat that has
been sown has a knack of growing. The habits
of self-will and self-indulgence and disregard of
duty may change their form, even as the green
blade changes into bearded grain, but they re-
main in their evil essence and their ugly root the
same, only harder to overcome.
God's infinite grace may touch and soften and
transform into new life the stupidest and most
hardened old sinner, but, humanly speaking, the
chances of doing him any good are small. We
may minister to the old, we may comfort and
cheer them when they know the Lord, and cause
their declining days to be gilded and glorified
by the heavenly sunlight, but I fear that our
converts among them are not likely to be many.
We must not indeed slacken our exertions among
them or presume to judge who are or are not
within reach of the Gospel power. Our business
is to preach it and teach it with all love and
earnestness to all whom we can get to listen.
But while in our work among the old and the
middle aged we have often to hope against
hope, our work among the young is full of hope.
We are sowing in the spring ; we are dropping
Reaching Young Hearts. 149
our seed beside the soft-flowing waters ; our labour
is a labour of joy as well as of love, because
we can have every reasonable expectation of
seeing its fruit.
Our ministrations among the young, therefore,
should be looked upon not as a matter of secondary
importance, but as the most momentous portion
of our work. It is the work that is most urgently
needed, and that has the greatest likelihood of
leaving after it real and permanent result.
And surely no part of our ministry carries with
it so manifestly its reward of joy. We have good
hope of winning the children's souls ; we are sure
of winning their affections. They always love the
clergyman who takes an interest in them, and who
is cheery and affectionate in his manner to them.
How the eyes of the little ones brighten when the
pastor comes into the school. With what shy
pleasure they look up at him from their slates and
their books ! How merrily the little footsteps trip
over to him, and the little fingers clasp his hand
a^nd hold him as their own especial property, as he
draws near the house where the children live.
Hard indeed must be the heart that the joyous
child-welcome does not gladden. And in after-
years how pleasant it is to feel the cordial grasp
of the young men greeting their pastor as trusted
150 Reaching Young Hearts,
guide and honoured friend, and to know that he
has the confidence of the gentle maidens whose
souls have been awakened by his teaching to the
thrill of heavenly life. There are often dis-
couragements and long, weary, unappreciated
efforts in other branches of our duty, but our
dealings with the young are full of delights.
Labour it is, nevertheless, real labour, calling
forth all our energies. It requires care, and
thought, and patient perseverance. Very fallacious
is the idea that we must take pains with our
sermons and addresses to grown-up people, but
that anything will do for the children. If we
want really to help them, we must give them our
very best. Dull sermons may bring the more
visible punishment of empty pews and grumbling
parishioners, but dull teaching brings its punish-
ment, almost sadder, in wandering glances, vacant
countenances, and poor little hearts sent empty
away.
Let us brace ourselves, then, with the most
earnest vigour to do our work among the young,
recognising it as the most important, the most
hopeful, the most happy, and yet in some re-
spects the most difficult branch of our pastoral
duty.
When we speak of work among the young.
Reaching Yotmg Hearts. 151
we embrace young people of various ages and
various classes, who require to be dealt with,
of course, in modes adapted to their varying
circumstances.
There are the daily schools containing the chil-
dren of the poor, from the infants who sing and
clap their hands to the big boys and girls who
humble and terrify us with their knowledge of
arithmetic and geography. There are the board-
ing schools situated in our parishes where weekly
classes can often be held by the clergyman if he
tries to establish them, and where the children of
our upper ranks are found not seldom considerably
inferior in religious knowledge to the children
brought up in the parish school. There are the
Sunday Schools, which ought to comprehend not
only little children, but young men and women in
the opening of their lives under earnest and sym-
pathising teachers. There are the vitally impor-
tant classes preparatory for Confirmation. There
are the children's services in church, where the
young of all ages and ranks should be marshalled
side by side. There are also organizations ot
various kinds to enlist young men around the
banner of the Cross, and to give help and guid-
ance to young women at service and in business
amidst the difficulties and temptations that
152 Reaching Young Hearts.
surround them. All these are spheres for the
clergyman's work among the young.
For the present, however, I think it will be
most useful for me to suggest some thoughts as
to the best way of teaching and influencing young
people in general, and to leave to another oppor-
tunity the details of the various special efforts
we have spoken of.
I will suppose, then, that you have before you
an assemblage of children of various ages and
ranks whom it is your duty to teach. There they
stand in their youthful freshness,
"The bright and ordered files
Like spring flowers in their best array,
All sunshine and all smiles."
You recognise that you are God's messenger to
these immortal beings at the outset of their life's
journey. You breathe a prayer to the heavenly
Father for them, that He may teach and guide
them, for yourself that He may teach you to
teach, and guide you in guiding. Then you stand
up among the little ones and begin your lesson.
An important question arises, — What have you to
teach .^ Readily the answer rushes to the lips, "I
have to teach them the Bible. I have to teach the
Catechism, the formularies of the Church." Such
an answer is no doubt right to some degree, but
Reaching Young Hearts. 153
it is shallow and insufficient. You have to teach
chapters and verses, Catechism or collects. But
they are only the instruments for your work. The
knowledge of them is not the end you have in
view. It only furnishes tools to accomplish the
real end. What you want these children to know
is not any book or document, but a living Person.
You want them to know God Himself, to know
His will and how to please Him. You want to
have their hearts drawn into union with the great
Divine Being. You want to make the children
good and happy, and to lead them on the way to
the heavenly home. Religious teaching is vanity
and delusion if it is not meant for this.
As you pray remember the object of your work ;
as you teach keep it firmly in mind.
Instruction is often vague, tiresome, and utterly
useless, for the simple reason that the teacher has
no definite idea of what he is trying to do. He
wanders over chapters of the Bible and answers
in the Catechism. The brains of the children are
puzzled and their hearts are wearied by elaborate
distinctions and definitions, and dry enumeration
of historical details. If you ask the man, " What
are you doing } what are you aiming at .'* " he is
as puzzled as his pupils. It did not occur to him
that he had anything particular to do beyond
154 Reaching Young Hearts.
hammering into the children the words of the
Catechism or the facts of Jewish history.
Keep in mind then, first, what you are there
to teach.
And as you teach exert yourself to make the
lesson pleasant. Whether it is or is not possible
to make learning generally more pleasant than
we are accustomed to think may be a subject for
educational theorists. But it cannot be questioned
that the teaching of the glorious gospel of God
should be made bright and happy. It has been
sent as " glad tidings of great joy." Take great
trouble, then, to make your lesson interesting. If
ever you shake off dull sloth, shake it off now.
Don't be sleepy or languid. Be wide-awake your-
self, and keep the children awake. Do not think
it necessary to wear too sober a countenance.
Do not be afraid of a merry smile on the chil-
dren's faces as you teach. The smile or even the
rippling laughter of enjoyment is very different
from the grin of irreverence or insubordination.
One great instrument for putting down the
turbulent spirit of juvenile rowdyism, which shows
itself even in a Bible-class, is to bring in the
element of pleasure. Weariness in a child pro-
duces fidgets, fidgets quickly turn into turbulence,
and turbulence is fatal to instruction. You must
Reaching Young Hearts, 155
keep your class well in hand, or else you had
better stop teaching. There must be order, atten-
tion, reverence of demeanour. Anarchy can be
no more tolerated in a class than in an army.
But one of the most effective means for producing
order is to make the teaching agreeable. If you
are a martinet, always checking smiles and whis-
pers, if you are stern and hard in your manner,
you will not only injure your usefulness in deeper
ways, but you will arouse (among the boys, at all
events) a spirit of opposition. They see you are
personally annoyed by their fidgety movements ;
they will use them as weapons to wound you,
and to carry on a secret war of rebellion against
you. Those little hosts are easily induced to take
their side against the teacher. When they do,
their arms are ready at hand, and their insub-
ordination is hard to be quelled. " We do not
like that solemn teacher ; he is hard upon us ;
we'll pay him off" Then begin the countless
forms of restless motion and inattentive gestures,
and disturbing noises which harass the instructor,
and make it impossible for the quiet and well-
conducted children to attend to what he says.
Turn the flank of opposition by making teaching
bright and pleasant Let the little people find it
more interesting to listen to you, and to answer
156 Reaching Young Hearts.
you, than to interchange their whispers and their
pinches. This may seem an achievement beyond
the power of ordinary humanity. I admit that it
is difficult, and that it needs art and effort ; but
I think there are few clergymen who could not
accomplish it if they tried.
If you want to be a useful teacher, then, let it
be your first ambition to be a pleasant teacher.
If you are unpopular with the children, if they
look upon you as tiresome or cross, you do them
very little good. If, on the other hand, you have
made yourself the friend of the young people in
their homes or at their play, or by the part you
have taken in their ordinary lessons, your task of
pleasing them in the religious instruction will be
much easier. When they are fond of you they
will like what you say. I have spoken before of
the importance of loving feelings and loving ways
in our dealing with human souls. But in no part
of our work, perhaps, is this element so essential
as in our teaching of the little ones. We must
come among them in the spirit of Him who took
them up in His arms, laid His hands on them,
and blessed them. We must come with a yearn-
ing desire to be a real blessing to them, to lift
them above the snares and dangers of earthly
life, till their young faces look up into the Divine
Reaching Yotmg Hearts. 157
Face that is looking down into theirs. We must
come to them with affectionate human sympathy.
And what is sympathy with a child ? Is it not
sympathy with its love of mirth and gladness,
sympathy with the feelings that make it delight
in a frolic, that bring the laughter so quickly to
break up the rosy cheek into those merry dimples,
as well as sympathy with the tender heart that
makes its stormy grief so passionate, and with
the solemnity of its position on the verge of such
momentous possibilities of endless destiny }
But that charming art, " the art of pleasing," is,
I need hardly say, only a step towards something
further. You put the children at their ease, you
get them to feel happy, and then you have to
interest their understandings. You want to have
their minds active, not passive. With all their
liveliness, they are lazy little things, those children,
and, like yourself, they shrink from any difficult
mental exertion. It is your business now to
make them think, whether they like it or not.
Merely telling them things, cramming any amount
of knowledge into them, is useless. Nothing will
make a permanent lodgment in their minds, or
have a permanent effect upon their character,
except what they (more or less) work out for
themselves. Make them work now. Stir them
Reaching Young Hearts.
with lively questions. Get them to wonder, to
puzzle their little brains, to recognise their igno-
rance, to wish to know, to try to find out, to
succeed in finding out, and to delight in discovery
It has been said, and I think well said, that
/ the golden rule in teaching is, " Question the
"' knowledge into the children, and then question
it out of them." Your questions must be rapid,
varied, skilful. If the first form of a question is
not answered, change it into another form, then
another, lead up to its answer by simpler questions,
but never stop questioning till you get your answer.
Pass the question quickly from child to child,
from the younger to the elder, fragments of it
or echoes of it back again from the elder and
thoughtful ones who have understood it and
elucidated it to the younger ones who were
puzzled by it ; but see that it does its work, that
somewhere or somehow it causes to be known
and understood the point it was framed to make
clear. Count it always as a disgrace and a
defeat if you cannot get your question answered
without answering it yourself.
Get the minds interested, the understandings
busy and active ; this is your second step. Get
important knowledge, great truths, precious facts
to be thus taken into the young people's mentz^l
Reaching Young Hearts. 159
consciousness, and recognised as things that really
are or actually have been.
Then, as your third duty, strike home to heart
and conscience. What you have led the children
to understand help them to feel. The truths ycu
have taught them to know strive to range as
urgent motives for practical action. Do not be
satisfied unless you can hope you have in some
measure done this. Picture to yourself the chil-
dren's daily life. Try by the use of your imagi-
nation and remembrance of your own childish
feelings to realize how they are likely to feel.
Use all kinds of illustrations, anecdotes, supposed
cases, so as to make them perceive the practical
bearing of what they have been learning upon
their own intentions and conduct. You cannot, in-
deed, by any amount of effort certainly secure this
result ; your business is to sow the seed, another
Power than yours can alone make it grow. But
your object in sowing is that it should grow. It
is your business to sow in such a way as to
facilitate growth. The seed may indeed lie
dormant for a long time. Not till after many a
drenching storm, it may be, and many a long
dark winter's night, will the green sprout appear
over the surface of the ground.
But however this may be, what you have to
i6o Reaching Yozmg Hea7'ts.
aim at and strive for is that the teaching of God's
revelation may have its effect at once, and may
begin its working from the first. You picture to
yourself the children's homes, their plays, their
lessons, their companions, their joys, and their
sorrows ; you try to realize to yourself how they
feel in daily life, their eager impetuous desires,
their bounding spirits, the forms in which evil
temper, self-will, meanness, greedy self-seeking,
cowardice, idleness, and other childish faults tempt
and beset them. You direct your teaching so
that amidst all these outward circumstances of
child life, and inward emotions of child hearts,
the Word of God may be a power for righteous-
ness, pressing with very urgent force upon all the
springs of their being. Thus every lesson is an
endeavour to lift your pupils into a higher moral
and spiritual atmosphere.
You must not turn your teaching into preach-
ing. The v^eary yawn and wandering glance
will soon tell you, if you are sufficiently on the
alert to mark such signs, that sermons do not
suit the little ones. You must continue teaching
and questioning and keeping your class awake
with sharp and lively home thrusts. But through
all, your final aim is the heart and conscience.
And you feel an intense longing that all your
Reaching Young Hearts. i6i
questions, and illustrations, and little anecdotes,
and short earnest appeals, should lead to this one
result, the bringing the children's souls into closer
contact with the great unseen realities, and thence
the formation of Christian habits, and the develop-
ment of a Christian character.
The foregoing remarks apply specially to the
instruction of little children. But they may be
useful, I venture to hope, in teaching young people
of various ages. Whatever kind of class he has
before him, it is needful for an ambassador of
God to keep prominently in mind the nature and
object of the teaching he is commissioned to
deliver ; and then, as he teaches, he must try to
make his lesson pleasant and interesting, he must
awaken the activities of the understanding, and
above all he must press the lesson home, so as to
touch the conscience and influence the will. In
short, he has to endeavour to carry out the three
rules given by the ancient master in oratory. —
^^ placer e^ docere^ inovere»*
ir
CHAPTER XL
THE SICK-ROOM.
T F there is any spot in the parish where the
-■■ pastor should feel thoroughly at home, it is
in the sick-chamber. "The world," it has been
well said, " is a room of sickness, where each heart
knows its own anguish and unrest." Into this
wide sick-room our Master came as the Great
Physician to bring consolation and remedy ; and
like Him, and on the self-same mission. His
ministers are to come into the narrower rooms
where poor sufferers now lie. Christ's gospel was
especially meant to be " glad tidings," It is our
privilege to bring those glad tidings just where
gladness is most wanting. And truly it is a privi-
lege and a joy unspeakable to be a comforter, a
bearer of light, soft and sweet, into the darkness.
Our work among the sick and suffering is of
two kinds — efforts to comfort and efforts to profit.
The efforts are in practice so blended together
The Sick- Room. 163
that we cannot draw any sharply defined boun-
dary between them. But our work will be more
useful if we keep in mind that it has this twofold
object. Pain is a wound which we must try to
soothe and heal after the example of Him who
came to bind up the broken in heart. It is also
a stroke from the Father's rod : we have to try
to make its teachings and warnings be taken to
heart. I speak first of efforts to comfort, for I
am sure that he who comforts most lovingly will
profit most effectually. The eyes must be some-
what dried before the lesson can be read. And
in this branch of our work success, almost more
than we dared to hope, generally meets us.
Whether we succeed or fail in profiting our parish-
ioners we often cannot judge. We have to wait
for the manifestation of success or failure, to wait
to know whether the success were as real as we
thought, whether the failure were as complete as
we teared ; we have to wait for this till the books
are opened and the secrets of all hearts made
known. But we have not to wait so long to see
the resul of our endeavours to comfort. Eyes
brightening as we enter the room, faces shining
with soft peace as we finish our prayer, restless-
ness calmed, weariness soothed, even pain of body
forgotten as we sit by the bedside and speak of
1 64 The Sick-Room.
the Saviour, all these symptoms tell us plainly
enough that our brotherly sympathy and our
message of consolation are successful in soothing
pain and bringing some real joy in the midst of
suffering. Very often the clergyman's visit is the
one bright spot in the patient's long dull day.
There are times, indeed, when the wisest and most
loving pastor fails to comfort. There are wounds
so sore that the sufferer can bear no eye to look
at them, no hand to touch them but God's.
There are pains of body sometimes so acute, ill-
nesses so stupefying, that human ministry can
bring the heart no help. But these cases are
exceptional. Generally in sickness pain can be
more or less soothed by the two great powers the
pastor wields — human sympathy and Divine truth.
If he goes into the sick-room, indeed, without
either of these, he fails. If he does not feel for
his brother's trials, if he does not believe in the
reality of God's revelations, he can do no good.
Under such conditions his visits tire and hurt.
Ah ! the mere official clergyman just doing what
he is paid for, saying words whose reality he does
not feel, putting on a grave or Sorrowful manner
just as he puts on his surplice in the vestry,
what a hard intrusion is his visit in a sick-room !
People send for him and endure him when a man
The Sick- Room. 165
is sick even as they send for the undertaker when
a man is dead, because it is the " proper thing.''
Go in, you clerical hireling, with your solemn
manners, and read your chapter, and say your
prayer, but don't think you bring the poor man
any more of help or comfort than will the black-
coated mutes by-and-by when they walk beside
his hearse. If you want to succeed in comforting,
you must come with real fellow-feeling. You will
not find it of much use to put on an appearance
of sympathy that you do not feel. If you do not
feel for the sufferer, you had better not pretend
you do. You had better humble yourself in the
dust before the Saviour who died for you both,
confess to Him your selfishness and hardness of
heart, and then, coming from that throne of pity
and love, go back again to the sufferer's bedside
as a real brother. And where there is love and
sympathy for him in your heart, the voice, manner,
and countenance will unconsciously testify to its
presence without special endeavour to put on
sympathizing looks or sympathizing tones.
And coming thus from the Saviour's throne to
the bedside of your brother or sister, you will
come with gentleness and meekness as well as
with affection. You will treat the poorest invalid
with honour and respect. Pompous bearing,
1 66 The Sick- Room,
authoritative tones, condescending airs, how im-
possible they are to a messenger who feels himself
sent by the Crucified Master to comfort one for
whom He has died. Your entrance into the sick-
room should bring with it a light from Him who
came to be the Light of the world. But is there
not a light shining on that pale face too ? " I was
sick " (the Judge is to pronounce), " and ye visited
Mer Each sufferer is to you a representative of
the great voluntary Sufferer. If the Lord Jesus
were lying on that bed, what honour would you
not pay Him ? What a privilege you would feel
it to be allowed to come and minister to Him !
When you are tempted to be overbearing in a sick
man's house, to be sharp and fault-finding, to ask
questions in a magisterial tone, will it not humble
you and soften you to think for a moment of
the Divine sentence — " Inasmuch as ye did it to
the least of these, ye did it unto Me " ?
You come to comfort, then, with sympathy
really felt, but you must come also with the Word
really believed in. A message has been left by
Him who tabernacled among us to bind up the
broken in heart. This message is the true medicine
to heal their sickness. The skilful application of
the Word is one of the most important branches
of the art of consolation. Sympathy makes you
The Sick- Room, 167
y —
weep with him who weeps, but only with God's
truth can you dry his tears. You must not indeed
cry "Peace, peace," where there is no peace. You
must be earnestly on your guard against fictitious
consolation. Your teaching must not be a mawkish
reiteration of soft half-truths. It must be honest
courageous, faithful.
But into the sick-room you do come with a
message from the invisible world just when the
visible is most darkly clouded. You want that
message to bring, as it was meant, gladness and
peace. Even when conscience has to be probed,
the slumbering heart awakened, when the terror of
the Lord and the awe of eternity have to be vividly
brought forward, the end of it all is consolation.
The godly sorrow is to issue in tears of joy.
Reproof and rebuke are to lead to rest in the
Redeemer. In order, therefore, rightly to divide
the word of truth in a sick-room, you must
remember that you come into that darkened
chamber as a consoler : and you can only efficiently
console by the consolation with which you yourself
are comforted of God. Try to feel the reality of
His consolation in your own heart. You believe
in a Father in heaven ; try to grasp firmly the
great truth that a sparrow cannot fall to the
ground without Him, and that He makes all things
1 68 The Sick- Room.
work together for good to those that love Him.
Your words about this will sound empty common-
places, tiresome platitudes, unless they come from
a deep conviction of the ever-present fact they
express.
You believe in the Saviour's human tenderness
and Divine omniscience, and, resulting from both,
His exquisite sympathy for every detail of man's
suffering and sorrow. Dwell on this in your own
heart. Recognise that it is true with yourself,
that He knows, and is interested in everything
that pleases or pains you. So will you be able to
bring the Bible declarations of His love and pity
with the ring of delightful reality to the ears of
your patient.
You believe in the forgiveness of sins. Take
home the blessedness of it to your own heart.
Remind yourself of how surely, in spite of all your
faults, you are for Christ's sake pardoned and
" accepted in the Beloved." So will you be able
to bring the glad tidings to the anxious and
troubled penitent. Your declaration of God's abso-
lution will sound in his ears not as an ecclesiastical
form, but as the very voice of the Saviour thrilling
over the storm, and saying, " Be of good cheer."
You believe in eternal life. You believe for
yourself that, whether you weep or whether you
The Sick- Room, 1 69
rejoice, the time is short, and the fashion of the
world is passing away, and that, whether you gain
or lose more or less here, you have a treasure
in the heavens that faileth not. With this faith
strong in your own heart, with this prospect con-
stantly gleaming before you in your own life, you
will be strong and confident in the sick-chamber
to re-echo God's promises of eternal happiness.
To the sick man, amidst his agonies, you will be
able to say, without any misgiving or any sense
of hollow unreality, "The sufferings of this present
world are not worthy to be compared with the
glory that shall be revealed." To the friends who
stand by, suffering with the sufferer's pain, trem-
bling in dread of the awful separation of death,
you will be able (without fear of being a " Job's
comforter") to whisper words of faith and hope
and courage.
But you do not come into the sick-room only
to comfort. You have another task. God is
wielding the fatherly rod ; it is your duty to help
the sufferer to learn his lesson. You have to be
faithful as well as sympathizing. That season of
sickness is a great opportunity ; you must try to
have the opportunity used.
The sick man is forcibly withdrawn from the
bustle and hurry and excitement of the world.
170 The Sick- Room.
He has time for thought, self-examination, and
prayer. The " eternal and the spiritual" are,
from his circumstances, made to stand out before
him more vividly than usual. Sometimes, indeed,
there is so much pain and bodily exhaustion, that
the mental faculties are almost or entirely stupefied.
Cases like these teach us how, after all, health
is the only reliable opportunity for preparing for
eternity. The coming of a painful or prostrating
sickness is often the practical closing of life's
probation. But still, as a general rule, it is found
that sickness, with its retirement and its warning
call, is an opportunity for special thought and
spiritual exercise.
It is an opportunity for the patient, and it is
an opportunity for the clergyman too. It is often
hard to meet your parishioner, hard to get close
to him, to be able to speak distinctly home to his
conscience. If you are admitted to the sick-room,
these difficulties vanish. The man is there. He
cannot bustle off. He expects you to speak to
him. He generally likes you to speak to him.
His circumstances incline him to listen with special
interest to what you are sent to say.
Take care that you do not let this opportunity
slip. Seize it, and use it. It is well to be on the
watch for sickness. Do not wait to be sent for.
The Sick-Room. 171
People seldom send for a clergyman unless there
is supposed to be danger of death. But lighter
sicknesses are generally better opportunities for
heart work than those which are more severe. So
when you hear of your parishioners being confined
to the house through sickness, go and see them
if possible.
Be ready, I need hardly say, to respond to any
sick call, whether by day or by night. The call
may be unnecessary or unreasonable ; it may come
from a superstitious feeling, or from morbid ner-
vousness ; but when you are called never hesitate
to go. Whatever may have been the motive on
the part of the sender, there is an opportunity for
you to do your Master's work, and deliver your
Master's message ; for His sake earnestly seize it-
If the illness is infectious, you must no more
shrink from it than must the soldier from the
enemy's guns.
In trying to comfort we saw what an important
power is brotherly sympathy. In trying to profit
it is equally needful. Do not be too eager to
lecture the poor sick man. Do not show a fussy
desire to discharge at him your clerical artillery
of texts and prayers. Come to him as a man
and a brother ; sit down beside him. Listen to
him with friendly attention. Do not think your
172 The Sick- Room,
time is being wasted while he tells you of his
diseases, or of the doctor's remedies. They are
the great events in his world now. If you really
care about the man himself, you will take an
interest in hearing about them.
Then when a friendly relation has been esta-
blished between you and him, go on to your deeper
work. Try to get the man to speak to you on
spiritual subjects. Lead him to open his heart,
and to tell you about his life, his hopes, his fears,
and his difficulties. It will be easier for you then
to direct your conversation, and to choose your
Scripture thoughts, so as to suit his wants.
Be very careful not to fatigue the body. Take
care not to let the nervous system be either over-
excited or wearied. Watch the face, and if you
see the hectic flush coming, or the eyes gleaming
out too eagerly, stop the conversation as quickly
as you can. Sometimes the patient ought not to
speak much ; sometimes he is not able to listen
for more than a few minutes ; loving tact and
careful watchfulness will make you graduate your
visit accordingly.
But perhaps you think you must deliver your
soul whatever condition the man may be in. He
is drawing near to eternity, and you must speak
your message even though it fatigues, excites him,
The Sick- Room. 173
and aggravates his disease. It is hardly kind to
deHver your soul by killing your neighbour's
body. And though you may satisfy your own
conscience, you are not likely to do your patient
any real good when you have begun to tire him.
Once fatigue has come, and the restless pulse
and the jaded attention, the opportunity of helping
has passed.
It is well to have one definite lesson, if possible,
for each visit : one short passage of Scripture, one
verse embodying one aspect of truth and duty, so
that after you are gone the patient may have
something he can easily think of. The exhorta-
tion in the Service for the Visitation of the Sick
gives an example of the kind of lesson to teach.
It is short, plain, and definite. It takes one short
passage of Scripture, and in simple, loving, and
earnest words points out its teaching. It leaves
behind the definite echo; suffering is God's fatherly
chastisement ; what is to be the attitude of the
chastened child towards the loving but rebuking
Father }
A certain order may, I think, be with advantage
observed in the lessons we bring : at first, for
example, thoughts of humiliation, penitence, self-
examination, then teachings as to God's love
and free pardon through Christ Jesus, then
174 ^/^^ Sick-Room.
lessons as to faith and patience and the bearing
of burdens as our work for the Master, then
brighter and more joyful teachings as to the
heavenly reward and the glory that is to be revealed.
We are not, indeed, to bind ourselves to this
order or to any previously prepared scheme of
treatment. Praying that the Holy Ghost may
teach us what to say, we should watch in the
patient's feeble and hesitating words, in the very
lights and shadows that flit over his face, for
every indication of what is passing within his soul,
so that we may provide accordingly out of the
varied treasure-house of God's truth. But our
visits are likely to produce a more real and per-
manent impression if, instead of vague and general
words of comfort and exhortation, we can lead
on, step by step, one precious truth at a time,
through the various elements of thought and feel-
ing on which the Christian character rests.
When our conversation is done it should be
followed by a short prayer. There should be no
bonds of formalism in our brotherly visits at the
bedside, and so sometimes we may feel that the
few words we have had together are as much as
the sick man can bear, and that we had better
leave him to pray over them in his own heart
But as a rule we must keep in mind the inspired
The Sick- Room. 175
injunction that the elders of the Church are to
pray over the sick Accordingly when we come
into the sick man's room we should feel that we
have come there chiefly to pray, to pray with him
and to pray for him, to lead him and his friends
in their petitions to the throne of grace, and to
join them in wrestling in prayer for blessing both
to his soul and body. Here, too, we may take
the Visitation Service for our model. It is well
to know some of the prayers in that service by
heart, for often we shall feel that no words could
carry up our desires more simply and accurately
than they do. Young clergymen often find a
difficulty in praying "extempore." Even at a
sick-bed the intellectual effort to put thoughts
into definite words interferes with the free course
of prayer. These beautiful collects, known by
heart, will prevent the necessity of what to some
people seems the chilling form of taking a book
out of the pocket. Most clergymen, however, find
it better to use no specially prepared form of
prayer. If ever it is easy to say simply to our
Father what comes into our heart to wish, it is in
the quiet, the privacy, the solemnity of the sick-
chamber. Self-consciousness, thoughts of the effect
produced on others by our words, these things
which interfere with freedom and simplicity of
176 The Sick-Roojn.
speech elsewhere, can hardly intrude much as we
hear in our ears the struggling breath of the sick
or dying man, and beseech our Father to help
him in his sore need. Our prayer should be, as
I have just suggested, very short. It should
correspond to the tone of the conversation that
has gone before. That prayer will be most easily
prayed that expresses to God the emotion or
desire most prominent in the heart at the moment.
When illness continues for any length of time
arrangements should be made for the patient to
receive the Holy Communion at regular intervals,
not as a preparation for death, but as a sacred
duty for life and a Divinely appointed means for
strengthening and refreshing the soul amidst the
shadows of sickness as well as amidst the bustle
and distractions of health. And never perhaps is
the sweetness of communion with our Lord, and
with one another, more vividly felt than when two
or three are gathered together in the quiet cham
ber, and, with hushed voice and soft footstep, the
pastor goes from friend to friend till he stoops
over the wasted form upon the couch and puts
into the wan hand the pledge of the Redeemer's
love.
There are two ends to sickness — recovery or
death. The preparation for both is, in the deepest
The Sick- Room. 177
sense, the same. The awakening of soul, the
humiliation, the approach to the cross of Christ,
the clinging to the Divine Master in trust and
love and joyful hope — these, which are the prepa-
rations for meeting the Lord in death, are just
the preparations needed also to go forth for a
fresh start in life. But it is of preparation for
death I want now to speak a few concluding
words. All your ministry, if it is real, is a pre-
paration for death. From the time you begin to
teach the infant to lisp the sacred name of Jesus,
through all your teaching by classes, by sermons,
by books, by private conversation, you are striving
to make the soul God has committed to your care
fit for its eternal destiny, meet for the inheritance
of the saints in light. But now you are called to
attend on one just at the brink of the grave. At
first perhaps there was uncertainty as to whether
he would recover or die. You tried to make him
ready for either alternative. Now the struggle
between hope and fear is over. It is plain that
he must die. The passage may last a few days
or a few weeks, but there is no doubt as to the
dark door to which it leads.
Oh, how solemn it is to stand beside a man
who is so soon to be in the presence of the secrets
that lie "behind the veil." What an earnest
12
178 The Sick- Room.
supplication should be breathed to the Father that
guidance may be given in the solemn task of
making this immortal being ready for such a
crisis in his fate !
But we know that there is only one real readi-
ness. If the man is united to the Lord Jesus by
living faith, he is ready. If he is outside Christ,
if he has not come to Him in spirit, if he is not
clinging to Him by faith, he is unready. If he
is forgiven, he is ready ; his robes are washed in
the blood of the Lamb ; he is fit to take his place
in the dazzling procession of the " saints in light."
If he is impenitent and unforgiven, his last gasp
in death brings him under the awful sentence,
" Depart from Me into the outer darkness." With
what intensity should the pastor who watches for
his soul, as one who must give account, strive both
in prayer and personal exhortation that this great
question should be settled with the dying man —
in Christ or outside Him, forgiven or unforgiven !
Your striving is to be in order that it should
be really settled in the man's own heart. Do
not harass him with questions that he is to answer
to you, or to answer so as to be heard by the
bystanders. The danger of unreality and of con-
ventional professions does not pass away even
amidst the shades of death. The important thing
The Sick- Room. 1 79
is not what the man says to you, but what is the
attitude of his soul to the Saviour. You want
him to be a penitent ; you want him to know
and trust the Saviour. Labour with him that he
may recognise his sinfulness ; labour, above all,
that he may know the love, the tenderness, the
forgiveness of the Lord Jesus. It is well when
a dying man can give a clear testimony as to
Him in whom he has believed. It is a conso-
lation to his friends. It is a confirmation to
Christ's people in their faith. But after all the
great thing is not what a man says, but what
he is. Press your teaching continually, so that
he may be a believer in Christ Jesus. Try to
tear from his eyes all veils of self-deceit. Try
to break down under him all supports of self-
righteousness or conventional religion, so that he
may rest on " Jesus only." Try to strengthen his
feeble faith, and to cheer his trem.bling heart by
describing to him what Jesus is and what Jesus
has done. Roman Catholic clergymen hold the
crucifix or figure of Christ upon the Cross before
the eyes of the dying. Let your endeavour be
to hold up before the dying man's heart and con-
science the Saviour Himself ; strive to make him
see Him beside him in His Jove and tenderness,
and in the power and plenitude of the pardon He
T 80 The Sick- Room.
has purchased on the Cross. So will he be ready
to go forth into the solemn shadows without fear,
knowing that to " depart and be with Christ is
far better."
CHAPTER XII.
FROM HOUSE TO HOUSE.
TT OW many pictures rise before our minds as
we use this phrase " from house to house/
The stately mansion embosomed in woods ; the
little cottage far up the mountain side, hardly dis-
tinguishable from the rocks and the heather amidst
which it seems to grow ; the dingy hovel in the
back lane of the country town ; the respectable
house in the city street or fashionable square ; the
busy and bustling farmhouse; the lonely little
cabin where some poor old woman spends the
evening of her days ; the loathsome attic, up the
creaking and broken staircase, in the foul alley of
the city ; pictures like these stand out before the
imagination as we speak of visiting from house to
house.
We think of the solemnity of passing through
grand park gates, and the slight awe inspired by
tall powdered footmen, and the light and colour
i8:> From House to House.
and fragrance of tasteful drawing-rooms, and the
rustle of silken dresses, and the soft music of gentle
ladies' voices. We think of stuffy front parlours,
and hard-headed men of business immersed in
work and care. We think of rough kitchens, with
great pots boiling on the fire, and women scrub-
bing churns, and workmen and children and fowls
and four-footed animals crowding in and out. W^e
think of prayers by wretched pallets, interrupted
by the heavy breathing of the dying, and whispers
of hope and peace listened to in quiet bedrooms^
where the roses look in through the latticed win-
dows on the fair face whose own roses have gently
faded away. Varied, indeed, are the scenes sug-
gested by the words " from house to house."
But they are the scenes where our work has to
be carried on. And different as may be the scenes
that shift as we go from home to home, the drama
that is acted amidst them all is nearly the same.
We soon find that between " my lady " and her
cook there is no very great difference. In the
castle and in the cabin, in the softly carpeted
library and in the blacksmith's forge, the human
hearts of the inhabitants go through wonderfully
similar experiences. Joy and sorrow, hope and
fear, sin and repentance, faith and service, show in
their history and their successions no respect of
From House to House. 183
persons ; and the minister of God can show no
respect of persons either. The only distinction
he has a right to make in his visits is grounded
upon the thought of who may need him most
Those who are most tempted, most tried, most in
danger, or most perplexed, are those to whom he
has to show most attention. He, the messenger
of God's good news, has, like another sterner
messenger, to knock equally at the doors of rich
men's palaces and of poor men's huts.
It has been, perhaps, the fashion of late rather
to depreciate visiting in comparison to other
branches of ministerial labour. Fashion has its
changes in ecclesiastical matters as well as in the
other affairs of life. It is not only the cut of the
clerical garments, and the shape of the clerical
hats, that are influenced by its laws, but even the
views and ideas of clerical duty. And it requires
considerable strength of mind and earnestness of
purpose in a young man to keep himself unin-
fluenced by the ebbing or flowing of clerical fashion,
and to look upon things as his understanding and
conscience tell him they really are, no matter what
ideas on the subject happen to be " in " or " out "
among the majority of his fellow-curates.
But any fashion that would depreciate house-
to-house visiting is certainly a foolish fashion. No
184 From House to House.
other instrumentality can fulfil its office. It is
not to be a substitute for other and more regular
branches of work, but it must be an accompani-
ment to all work. If it is neglected, all other
work will soon flag. Schools, classes, services,
sermons, meetings, clubs, guilds, corporate efforts
of all kinds, require to be stimulated and supple-
mented by the separate personal action of house-
to-house visitation. It is only one of the tools
needed for our work, but it is one for which no
other can be a substitute, and which we can never
leave long out of our hands.
It will help us in our visiting to present to our
minds, as distinctly as we can, the objects we want
to accomplish by it. The first of these objects is
to become acquainted with our people, to acquire
a personal knowledge of them as friends, brothers
and sisters, to know what kind of thoughts they
think, what difficulties and temptations they have
to struggle against, what ideas are current among
them, what are their mistakes, their needs, their
pleasures and troubles. Only by going in and out,
and mixing with common daily life, can this know-
ledge be obtained. Even if we had the confes-
sional of the Roman Church, it would not supply
it. The outpourings of hearts in the enthusiasm
of religious excitement, or the mechanical repeti-
From House to House. 185
tion of habitual and routine acknowledgment of
sin, would not enable us to understand what people
are amidst the rough realities of daily life. Want of
this knowledge makes much of the preaching and
teaching of young clergymen useless. They are
eager about the controversial points they used
to hear discussed in college. They ardently take
this side, or that side, in theological disputes ; but
the needs and the ideas of Thomas the footman,
Hodge the ploughman, Mary the kitchen-maid'
Mr. Sharp, the country attorney, or Mr. Sharp's
bustling wife and fashionable daughters, are as
unknown to them as the habits and customs of
the Sphinx.
If we want to speak as men and brothers to
our brethren, if we want to speak to them simply,
directly, earnestly, we must go to their houses and
sit down by their firesides, see the cook in her
kitchen, walk with the ploughman beside his horses,
and listen to the farmer as he discourses of his
bullocks. In this, as in everything else, the Great
Pastor should be our model. He mixed freely
with human life, spoke to His people in their
homes, by the wayside, in their rough fishing boats,
as well as in the synagogues and under the arches
of the Temple. And mingling and sympathising
as He did with common human life, His words
1 86 From House to House.
came home to His hearers with the ring of reality
And wherever there aremen who sow and reap,
buy and sell, marry and give in marriage, there
the simple teaching of Jesus of Nazareth is still
felt as a power that reaches straight to the heart.
From house to house then, like our Master, we
must go, in and out among our brethren, so that
we may know them, so that we may feel with
them, know their needs, and be able to address
them in language they understand.
And we go from house to house, not only to fit
ourselves for our work, but to do our work. The
Lord Jesus went about " doing good." And such
must be the character of our visiting : we want to
do good to our people, to help them in every way
we can. Sometimes we can do good to them with
regard to their material concerns. We find them
in destitution, poverty, perplexity, and we are able
either to give them substantial relief, or put them
in the way of obtaining it.
We come to the poor and neeay as real,
brotherly friends ; and we must take an interest
in their bodily condition, and really try to be of
use to them with regard to it, otherwise we shall
hardly do much for their souls. If we say in
bland and solemn piety, " Depart in peace ; be ye
warmed and filled," and do not stretch out a hand
From House to House. 187
to help, it will be difficult to persuade them of our
friendship. No doubt we shall have to exercise
much watchfulness and discretion lest we should
encourage mendicancy, and give, as is not at all
uncommon, a clerical premium to imposture. In
large parishes it is well to follow the example of
the apostles, who appointed helpers to "serve
tables," while they gave themselves to the Word
of God and prayer.
Still the clergyman who watches for the souls
of the poor must take a real hearty interest in
their bodily condition also. There is an instinct
which drives the poor to the clergyman as their
natural helper. It is not a mistaken instinct.
The business of the pastor's life is ministry to
others. He comes among the people to do good.
The soul and body are so closely linked together,
that the spiritual helper cannot leave the bodily
condition unregarded. He may not have oppor-
tunity, means, power to help as he would wish ;
but he will always have sympathy for the distress,
often valuable, practical counsel, and sometimes
from himself or from Christian friends relief for
the present necessity.
But our direct business as ambassadors from
God is with the soul rather than the body. We
have a message to deliver, great truths to declare,
1 88 From House to House.
warnings, promises, invitations from God to make
known to men.
One important way of carrying on this work in
our visiting is by gathering in our people to the
public means of grace. It is not enough to have
the bell tolled for service. Many an ear will be
deaf to its chime which can yet be reached by the
loving voice of the pastor. From house to house
we must go, and really see who go to church, to
school, to classes, to Holy Communion, who stay
away, and for what reasons. We cannot be in-
quisitorial or impertinent, but it is necessary for
us to be very careful and earnestly searching in our
inquiries. We must not let ourselves be put off
with vague and evasive answers, but must exercise
a certain firm and honest persistency, although re-
spectful and gentle with the very poorest. We have
to make ourselves acquainted with the real facts.
Servants must be thought of and inquired after
as well as their masters, children as well as their
parents, the men among our parishioners even
more carefully than the women. The shepherd
has to go and seek the lost sheep over the moun-
tains. Much of our visiting has to be of this
seeking character, looking for the erring and the
straying. They will not come to us. We must
go to them. The Gospel has no attraction for
From House to House. 189
them. Though they need it so sorely, they have
no wish to hear it. They are absorbed in the
bustle, or toil, or care of ordinary life. They are
busy and half sceptical perhaps ; they are gay,
thoughtless, and absorbed in sport or amusement ;
they are poor, badly dressed, and wholly occupied
in the struggle for existence. If left to them-
selves, they would never come within the sound of
God's Word. Out into the highways and hedges
we, as God's messengers, have to go, and compel
them to come in. We must invite them, urge,
press them to the services of the Church ; but,
above all, wherever we find them we have to press
home God's call to their souls. Our language
should not be, "Come to-morrow, and I will
preach to you about Christ," but "He is here
now. He promises you eternal life ; He asks you
for your heart." By touching the conscience, by
awakening the sense of guilt and of longing for
better things, the strongest argument for church-
going will be applied.
But as pastors to tend and feed our flock, we
go from house to house, as well as to look for the
straying. We want to encourage the individual
members of it by personal sympathy. We want
to find out their needs, and supply them by
the ministrj^ of the Word. If they are perplexed
190 From Hoitse to House.
and puzzled, we want to give them, as far as we
can, the clue of Divine truth that may lead them
through the intricate maze of mental difficulty.
If they are hampered and weakened by what we
believe to be mistakes or narrow-minded traditions,
we want to loose them from those bands. If they
are in special temptation, we want to nerve them
to steadfastness. If they are indolent and lagging
in their Christian course, we want to urge them
forward. If they are disappointed, sorrowful, or
lonely, we want to comfort them with Divine
consolation.
Great charges are laid upon us to " feed the
flock of God, which He has purchased with His
blood," His "beautiful flock," which He will re-
quire at our hands. We have to tend, guard, and
guide its members scattered through " this naughty
world." We have " never to cease our labour, our
care, our diligence, till we have done all that lieth
in us to bring all such as are committed to our
charge unto that agreement in the faith and
knowledge of God, and to that ripeness and per-
fectness of age in Christ, that there shall be no
place left among us either for error in religion,
or for viciousness in life." The prophet Ezekiel
describes the shepherd's duty as " strengthening the
diseased, healing that which is sick, binding up
From House to House, 191
that which is broken, bringing again that which is
driven away, seeking that which is lost."
Only by following the members of our flock
into their homes, and dealing with them there
personally, face to face, can these various and
difficult offices be fulfilled. It is very hard to
fulfil them even thus. The human soul is very
sensitive, and shrinks up into itself at the approach
of a stranger. It is hard even in people's homes
to come into close quarters with their hearts.
They often keep us at arm's length. With mar-
vellous ingenuity, and with most voluble chatter,
they contrive to put all kinds of obstacles between
us and their souls. And the many interruptions
of home life increase the difficulty of close and
open personal intercourse. But with all its diffi-
culties, this watching, tending, pastoral work must
be carried on by seeking our people as best we
may from house to house.
Appreciating then the importance of visiting
work, and realizing to ourselves the special objects
at which it aims, let us go on to consider the
spirit and manner in which it is to be carried out.
If it is to be done effectually, there must be, as
was suggested before, with regard to all our work,
regular order and method in our doing of it.
There is no part of our pastoral duty in which
192 From House to House.
the temptations to impulsive and spasmodic action
are so constant. There is no external pressure.
One day would seem to do as well as another for
each visit. Some people are pleasant ; some are
dry and unattractive. There are places from
which we are apt to shrink, because it seems so
hard to do any good there. There are other
places where we are welcomed so heartily, where
our coming seems to be felt as such a comfort
and profit that we should like to go there often.
And so those who want us least might easily be
attended to at the expense of those who want us
most. The places where our Master sends us
might be passed by for those to which our own
desires and fancies lead us.
And if our parish is large, and its inhabitants
numerous, no unassisted memory can keep count
of where we have been and where we are wanted.
One of the first things necessary, therefore, for
regular parochial work is a carefully drawn-out
list of our parishioners, so arranged that entries
of our visits can be made after each name. It is
well to have as full information as we can collect
recorded in this book — the number and names
of the children who are confirmed or unconfirmed
— who have died, married, or gone away since we
knew them. Thus, at a glance, as we prepare for
From House to House. 193
our visiting, we can be reminded of the condition
of the family we are going to see.
Another list, as was suggested in a previous
chapter, should be kept of those who require our
special attention — the sick, the aged, the infirm,
the lonely, people who are not able to attend the
public ministrations of the Church, and to whom,
therefore, the Church is bound to minister indi-
vidually with thoughtful and diligent regularity.
What an interest this list should have in the
eyes of the pastor ! It tells him of the members
of the flock who are in a very special way com-
mitted to his care. They are the weakly and
tender ones whom the Great Shepherd " carries in
His bosom." The under-shepherd should surely
feel that they have a very sacred place in his heart.
And as he passes his eye from name to name, and
there arises in his mind the picture of the desolate,
bed-ridden old woman, or the confirmed invalid in
the dreary monotony of the one dull room ; as he
thinks of the saddened, joyless lives, and the
weary faces, and the plaintive voices ; or as he
thinks of the courage, faith, and patient hope, still
gleaming in sunken eyes or glowing on wasted
cheeks, that dry list becomes to him a manuscript
illuminated with glistening colours, a beautiful and
touching record of sorrow and endurance, of the
13
94 From Ho2ise to House.
world's trials, and of the Divine strength that
gives the victory over them.
This human interest should gild and glorify all
our parochial statistics ; otherwise our lists and
our entries will become a snare to us. Some
clergymen are in bondage to their parish books.
It is not the souls of their parishioners they are
anxious for, but the regular and orderly keeping
of their visiting lists. When the day is over, the
questioning is not as to how many fellow-creatures
have been helped, how many tears dried, how
many consciences touched, how many brothers
and sisters drawn to the Saviour : it is simply
as to how many entries there may be for the
diary. Their rejoicing is not for names written
in the book of life, but for names written in
their own petty memorandum books.
There should be the desire and determination to
go with orderly method all through our parish ;
yet that desire must be always subservient to the
great object of our ministry — doing real good.
We are methodical because we can thus do the
most good to the greatest number. But some-
times we can do more good by interrupting our
method for a while. On the field of battle the
army advances in line. But every here and there
the line must be broken, the forces concentrated
From House to House. 195
on some special point of advantage, the position
gained by a fiery charge, and then the line formed
again and the regular march resumed. In our
battle against evil, there are occasions on which we
must disregard our regular parochial plans. We are
particularly needed here or there. Opportunities
come when by going out of our way and giving
all our attention for a while to some special efforts,
results can be produced which could not be pro-
duced by our ordinary routine. We must hold
ourselves free for these movements. We are not
visiting machines, to be wound up and set a-going
like clockwork. We are thoughtful and careful
watchmen, watching for the souls of our people as
those who must give account, trying, as far as we
can, to think of each individual with his wants and
needs, and ready, whenever duty or kindness calls, to
leave the ninety-nine who are in comparative safety
in order to go over the mountains and seek for the
one lost and wandering sheep ever till we find it.
So our visiting is to be on the whole regular, but with
an elastic regularity which guides without binding.
We saw, not long ago, how one of the most
important agents for being of use in our visitation
of the sick is the spirit of sympathy. The same
may be said with regard to all our visiting. We
go, not as clerical policemen or census collectors
196 From House to House.
but as men and brothers. We go to weep
with those who weep, and to rejoice with those
who rejoice. We must put away our red-tape
and our mannerism, our hardness, dryness, official
airs of superiority or official severity, We must
try to forget self, and go in and out among
our brethren full of interest for their interests and
care for their cares. The loving heart of which
we spoke before, warmed by our union with the
centre of love, will supply the fountain from which
the sympathy will flow. This will make our visits
pleasant to ourselves, and to those on whom we
call. As we knock at the door we shall not have
the secret feeling, " I hope the people are out, so
that I may be saved the trouble of talking to them,"
but " I hope they are at home, for I want to see
them, and know all about them, and have some
interesting intercourse with them." Then we shall
enjoy seeing the old folks, the little children, the
young men, and the maidens. And as we sit
down in their midst, many a pleasant word will be
said, and many a pleasant smile will brighten the
faces both of visitor and hosts, and we shall go
on our way cheered and gladdened ourselves, and
feeling that we have left a pleasant ray of bright-
ness behind us. We shall all feel happier because
we have had a little Christian sympathy together.
From House to House. 197
But though we wish to come with the genial
warmth of human sympathy, we must come at the
same time in a spirit of earnest watchfulness.
Every faculty is to be on the alert. We have to
observe all the indications of the state of mind,
character, and life of our people. As the old
woman moans, and we feel for her desolation, we
have to consider whether her religious expressions
are true and honest, or only pious conventionalities.
While the lady of the manor house talks on so
graciously, it is our business to try to discern
whether her heart is awake to the great spiritual
realities. While we walk with the squire through
his demesne, or with the farmer over his fields,
while we sit with John in the harness room or
Mary in the kitchen, while we lean over the
wasted form upon the bed of suffering, or look into
the eyes of the dying, we have to seek for the
answer to the same grave questioning — What is
the spiritual condition here } Is the soul waking
or sleeping, thriving or languishing, busy and
earnest for God, or careless, indolent, and self-
indulgent } We are not judges, indeed, but we
are watchmen. It is not our business to pass i
sentence, either of acquittal or condemnation, on
those to whom we minister. We may be thankful
that it is not so. Sorely puzzled should we often
198 From House to House.
be in deciding between contradictory appearances.
It is a great rest to remember that not judgment,
but teaching, is our office. Still, in carrying out
our pastoral duty, very careful and prayerful
observation is needed, so that to each the suitable
teaching maybe given. What does this one want.?
How can I best help him t Is it by encouraging
and comforting, or is it by setting his conscience
to work in solemn self-questioning .? There should
be the diagnosis of the patient before the applica-
tion of the remedy.
And in our visitation watchfulness must be kept
up, not only over our people, but over ourselves.
We are not angels coming down on gentle wings
from purer spheres. We are men of like passions
with those whom we visit. And the temptations
that assault us " from house to house " are legion.
The daily battle that has to be carried on by a
Christian man against vanity, self-seeking, indo-
lence, impurity, and evil temper — does it cease as
he goes on his pastoral rounds ? Does the enemy
give him a truce at such times t I fear we shall
find that he is just then especially busy.
" Watch and pray, lest ye enter into temptation,"
is our Lord's direction to His chosen apostles. We
must try to carry out that direction as we go our
way at His bidding. If tempted to magnify self.
From House to House. 199
to put self forward, to have our own ministry and
our own influence thought of instead of our
Master's love ; if tempted to flatter the great,
or to despise the poor ; if tempted to look too
much on woman's beauty, or on man's grandeur ;
if tempted to be cross or angry when our vanity
is wounded, or our opinion contradicted, then the
prayer must be earnestly lifted up, and the vigi-
lance diligently used, lest by the yielding of the
will, even for a little moment, to the downward
drawing, our Master be dishonoured, and the holy
offlce of His ministry be defiled.
I hope it is almost unnecessary to suggest the
need of thoughtful tact and careful politeness in
our visits to the very poorest as well as to the
upper classes. A clergyman ought to be, in the
deepest sense of the word, a tJioroiigh gentleman.
Whatever may have been his social position by
birth, he should have learned, in order to be fit for
his work, that delicate consideration for the feel-
ings of others, that chivalrous honour to woman-
hood, and deference to the weak that gives the true
" sweetness and light " to the real gentleman's
manners. So in the cottage and the castle, in
the old woman's hovel and the sick maiden's bed-
chamber, he will be alike a welcome guest. The
most sensitive feelings will not shrink at his
200 From House to House.
presence. His manner will have the grace and
attractiveness that come not from artificial polish,
but from kindness, modesty, and loving thought
fulness.
But along with his sympathy and watchfulness
and thoughtfulness, the pastor must have a stead-
fast determination to do his work and deliver his
message. Otherwise he might as well stay at home.
No matter how well drilled and how well dressed
a soldier may be, he is of no use unless he is ready
to fight. As we knock at each door, as we sit
down in each room, as we look into each friend's
face, we must have the resolve thrilling in our
hearts, " God helping me, I will try to do some
work for Him here."
I do not think that it is either needful or
expedient for a clergyman always to read the
Scriptures or to pray when he visits. Such a
rule would seem to me to savour of bondage,
if not of superstition. To hold a meeting
for exposition and prayer is one thing ; to pay
a pastoral visit is another thing. The special
objects of visiting, although kindred, are not
the same as the objects of a prayer-meeting.
Often when occasion offers, when there is likely
to be no interruption, when the conversation leads
up to it, when there has been expression of strong
From House to House. 201
emotion, when there is mourning or anxiety in
the home, a short and earnest prayer to God will
be felt as a comfort and a help. Watch for such
an opportunity, and gladly seize it But do not
make any hard-and-fast rule on the subject.
The reading of a " chapter " is almost always
formal. I think it is better to have in our mind
as we go our rounds some one pregnant and im-
pressive verse, short, striking, and easily remem-
bered, and if no other spiritual thought has been
brought out in conversation, to press that earnestly
home before we leave.
These, however, are only matters of detail.
How to do our work best we must ask our Master
to show us in each visit, but the great thing is to
be earnestly determined to do it. We must bind
ourselves to no stereotyped plan. We must let
ourselves be used by our Master on each occasion
just as He wants us. But as we go on His message
from house to house, we must try to feel in each
house, " Lord, I am here as Thy messenger. Thy
will I am determined to do. Thy word I will
endeavour to speak ; Thy people here, the souls
for whom Thou hast died, the souls whom Thou
hast given into my care, I will strive by some
means or other to help, to warn, to guide, or to
comfort." Surely He sees the resolution. Surely
202 From House to House.
He hears the heart cry for help. Surely it will be
given us in that hour what to speak. And the
word that, in His name, and at His bidding, we
have spoken, though with stammering lips, shall
not return to Him void. Echoes of it shall
doubtless thrill in living hearts long after we have
been laid in our graves. And not till the " great
day " shall we know the train of results that
have followed our feeble but faithful endeavour
to proclaim our Master's message.
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Woodcuts. Cheap Edition, in one large volume. 4to, lOs. 6d.
The Dean of Canterbury says :— " I have carefully examined your
new Bible Cyclopaedia, and can conscientiously speak of it in high
terms of praise."
"It is a rich and full storehouse of Scripture knowledge. The
literary execution of the articles is excellent." — The Guardian.
"The work is illustrated with numerous woodcuts of an interesting
and useful kind, and will undoubtedly give to many ' the substance 01
most that is valuable in other Dictionaries, though at considerably less
cost.' It is, in fact, a marvel of cheapness." — Contemporary Review.
i-ondon: HODDER & STOUGHTON, 27, Paternoster Row
KADESH-BARNEA: Its Importance and Pro-
bable Site, with the Story of a Search for it; including
Studies of the Route of the Exodus and the Southern
Boundary of the Holy Land. By H. Clay Trumbull, D.D.
With Two i\Iaps and Illustrations. Large 8vo, 2 is.
" This is a truly noteworthy book, and will at once command the
attention of all Biblical scholars. Dr. Trumbull has given his personal
explorations the setting of a scholarly and beautiful volume lucidly
arranged and firmly written, with phototypes of rare excellence and
good maps. He has truly estimated the historical and geographical
value of Kadesh-Barnea, and well vindicated the older view of the
route of the Israelites."' — Acadeniy.
EGYPT, PALESTINE, AND PHGENICIA: A
Visit to Sacred Lands. By Professor Felix Bovet. Trans-
lated from the Eighth PVench Edition by the Hon. and Rev. W.
H. Lytteltox, M.A., Rector of Hagley and Canon of Gloucester.
With Maps, Large Crown 8vo, 9s.
" In style he belongs to the 'picturesque' class of writers. English
readers will find a freshness and unconventionality in the point of view
which will pleasantly surprise them. Mr. Lyttelton has performed
his part of the work with taste and judgment.'" — Pall Mall Gazelle.
" Godet sa3-s of the volume, in an introductory letter, ' M. Bovet's
book has a character all its own. It is a flower gathered in Palestine
and brought away in all its freshness and fragrance.' What better
commendation could he give ? We do not wonder that it has been
translated into German, Swedish, Dutch, and Italian.' — Evangelical
Magazine. '
SACRED STREAMS. The Ancient and Modern
History of the Rivers of the Bible. By Philip Hexry Gosse,
F.R.S. With Forty-four Illustrations and Map. New and
Cheaper Edition. Handsomely bound, 3s. 6d.
" Mr. Gosse is one of the most charming as well as accomplished
writers on natural history. He was the guide and tutor of Charles
Kingsley in this branch of study, and many of his books are as
daintil}' fascinating as a page out of old Gilbert White himself. The
present work has been written speciall}' for Sunda\' reading. The
object has been attained by the popularity it has achieved." — Glasgou.'
Herald.
GARDEN GRAITH; or, Tales among my
Flowers, By Sarah F. Smiley. Fifth Edition. Handsomely
bound. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d.
CoxTEXTS : — The Garden Itself. — Seed Sowing. — "Consider l/ie
Lilies." — Weeds. — Fragrance. — Pol-bonnd. — After the Rain. — The
Life Beyond.
" A charming book, full of heavenly wisdon." — Christian.
"Full of beautiful thoughts," — Sylvia's Home Journal.
" The garden, the seeds, the flowers, the weeds, the fragrance, the
process of gardening, are used as similes of religious life. The
literary style is fascinating." — Literary World.
London: RODDER & STOUGHTON, 27, Paterxoster Row.
STUDIES ON THE NEW TESTAMENT.
By F. GoDET, D.D., Professor of Theolog}", Neuchatel. Edited by
the Hon. and Rev. W. H. Lyttelton, M.A., Canon of Gloucester.
Sixth Edition. 7s. 6d.
Contexts: — The Origin of the Four Gospels. — Jesus Christ. — The
Work of Christ. — The Four Chief Apostles. — The Apocalypse.
STUDIES ON THE OLD TESTAMENT. By
F. GoDET, D.D. Edited by the Hon. and Rev. W. H. Lyttelton,
M.A. Third Edition. Crown 8vo, 7s. 6d.
Contents : — Angels. — The Plan of the Development of Life on our
Earth. — The Six Days of Creation. — The Four Greater Prophets. —
The Book of Job. — The Song of Songs.
" Unquestionably M. Godet is one of the first, if not the very first,
of contemporary commentators. We have no hesitation in advising
all students of the Scripture to procure and to read with careful
attention these luminous essays." — Literary Churchman.
MODERN HEROES OF THE MISSION
FIELD. By the Right Rev. W. Pakenham Walsh, D.D.
Bishop of Ossory, Ferns, and Leighlin. Second Thousand.
8vo, 5 s.
The lives sketched in this volume all belong to the present century, and
include :— Henry Martyn, JVilliam Carey, Adonirant Judson, Robert
Morison, Samuel Marsden, John Williams, William Johnson, John
Hunt, Allen Gardiner, Alexander Duff, David Livingstone, and Bishop
Patteson.
HEROES OF THE MISSION FIELD. By the
same Author. Second Edition. Crown 8vo, 5s.
" Brilliant sketches." — Literary Churchman. ■
" We can heartily recommend his book to our readers." — Spectator.
A PRACTICAL COMMENTARY ON ST.
MATTHEW. By James Morison, D.D. New ard Revised
Edition. Crown 8vo, 14s.
A PRACTICAL COMMENTARY ON ST.
MARK. By the same Author. Fourth Edition Revised.
Crown 8vo, 12s.
The Opinions of Two Eminent Commentators.
"Dr. Morison's Coriiinentaries on St. Matthew and St. Mark are
simply invaluable. His st3'le is so racy, so graphic, so idiomatic, that
one reads him not onl}' with no sense of labour, but with constant
surprise and delight." — Rev. Samuel Co.v, D.D.
" We are happy to call attention to this painstaking and exhaustive
work. No student can well do without it. It is a marvellous display
of learning and labour." — Rev. C. H. Spurgeon.
London : HODDER & STOUGHTON, 27, Paternoster Row.
/'•
-( M
BV660 .W98
The joy of the ministry : an endeavour
Princeton Theological Seminary-Speer Library
1 1012 00051 7690