1. STYLES OF PREACHING.

The Christian Remembrancer, for January, 1841, in a Review of the Hulsean Lectures for 1839, makes some remarks on Styles of Preaching, which are well worth attention. We subjoin this part of the article in question :

"Every composition, we are told, is to be judged by its own rules; or, rather, by the rules appertaining to that class to which it belongs. There are certain conditions which it has to fulfil; and it is good or bad in proportion as it fulfils them. Discourses preached before the universities, and, in a more especial manner, Hulsean and Bampton lectures, are usually regarded as compositions sui generis. They are considered to stand between the calmness of an essay, and the plain earnestness and hortatory fervour of a common sermon. They are generally required to deal rather with the philosophy of religion, or with biblical criticism, or with ecclesiastical history, or with some topics of controversial divinity, than with the more practical part of Christian doctrine and Christian ethics. They are supposed to be something quite distinct from the more simple and familiar addresses which are to stir up the minds and hearts of the hearers in a parish church.

"We are far from intending altogether to dispute the validity of these canons. To a certain extent we believe their principle to be correct and unassailable. But we believe also, on the other hand, that the theory on which they rest may be, and sometimes is, carried a great deal too far. The separation may prove injurious alike to parochial appeals and to university discourses: it has a tendency to render the former quite meagre and jejune, and the latter quite scholastic and abstruse. However different two Christian congregations may seem, the one from the other, and of whatever members they may be respectively composed, they will nevertheless, have much more in common than they can have in contradistinction. Every address, therefore, must have such and such common ingredients, although the proportions will vary in which they are infused. As all have understandings to be informed, and all have souls to be saved, any address should endeavour both to convince and to persuade; should have something at least both of sound logic and of animating rhetoric; of just argument and of pressing exhortation: and, in general, we need hardly say, that sermon will be the best, which shall combine both these objects and both these elements in the most complete and pervading harmony.

"By the separation, however, which we have mentioned, whenever its principle is pushed to an extreme, audiences are sure to suffer. Some are treated as if they had no reason, and some as if they had no susceptibilities: some are treated as if they had not merely no knowledge, but no capacity of knowledge-as if their intellectual faculties were dead and buried; and some as if, instead of being frail and fallible creatures, filled with a host of passions, a host of weaknesses, a host of sins, they were but living machines, for the construction or apprehension of syllogismsbreathing masses of systematic ratiocination. Hence, both the matter and the style of sermons are, we think, oftentimes deteriorated. Some are trite and barren to a lamentable degree; others are but vehicles for a display of learning, or flights into the region of transcendental metaphysics: some, again, are wildly exciting; others are studiously and elaborately cold: some aspire only to popularity; others are made so unattractive to the multitude, that they seem afraid of being popular. Hence, it sometimes happens that academical discourses, from their exclusively stiff and didactic character, fail to attain that circulation, that influence, and therefore that utility, which they might otherwise command; while popular harangues, by their florid verbiage and their tawdry extravagance, are, probably, the most execrable specimens of style to be found in the language.

"Mr. Hare, of Cambridge, (so strangely confounded, by the way, in a recent article of the Edinburgh Review, with his lamented brother, of New College, Oxford, who died some few years since, to the regret of very many; whereas, the Archdea

con is alive and vigorous, and will long continue, as we trust, to be a living ornament of the Church,)—has said, in his quaint manner, of a peculiar kind of preaching which prevailed, as he conceives, at the close of the last century and the beginning of the present-'Too often, they who came to us for the milk of the Word, found nothing but the dry husk of didactic morality-often nothing but the parings and scrapings of controversial theology-delivered to them in a language, three-fourths of which they could not understand, made up of long-tailed words of Latin origin, which would have been almost as intelligible to them in their original as in their derivative form; and in involved logical sentences, which they were utterly unable to disentangle. Can we wonder that many should have begun to loathe what was so tasteless and unsatisfying, and should have sought for food elsewhere? Can we wonder, that when we forgot our two-fold duty-the duty of preaching the Gospel, and the duty of preaching it to the poor-the ordinance of preaching should have become of little effect in our hands?'

"There may be truth in this description: nevertheless, we would remark, with all deference, that there may be as much affectation in short words as in long; as much pedantry in Saxonisms as in Latinisms; and, of the two, it is the more dan⚫ gerous and more mischievous error to make the style too bald and low, under the idea of making it simple and idiomatic, than of flying,' as it is called, 'over the heads of the people.' 'The people' may be raised by degrees to a higher level in thought and expression; while they have generally shrewdness enough to detect the superfluous pains which have been taken, when their tastes and intellects are treated as if they were on a level exceedingly depressed; and are rather disposed to resent those pains than be grateful for them. Not only, we believe, will those sermons, quoad sermons, be on the whole the best, which are delivered in a mixed style to a mixed congregation; but in all compositions addressed to the people at large, unnecessary, and worse than unnecessary, trouble has oftentimes been bestowed upon the task of going out of the way to make the phrases plain and easy of comprehension. Exceptions must, perhaps, be admitted, on the one side, for the inhabitants of rude and remote districts, whom nothing will suit but patois and provincialisms; and, on the other side, for persons who have been long and almost exclusively conversant with some particular science or line of study, or who have lived with some particular set in schools or colleges; but it may be stated as a general axiom, although to many it will sound like a heresy, that if a man, who has been tolerably educated, and has mingled with the world, takes the first words which occur to himself, which will be, of course, the words in common usage, he will take those, which in any company or any public assembly, will be most willingly heard and most readily understood. It is worse than lost labour to hunt for other expressions, whether finer or less fine, than those which form the ordinary vehicle of his own thoughts. Let him speak or write in the current English of the day; let him speak just such English as he would speak in the case of some important event, or some serious accident, to the first person whom he met in the streets; let him write just such English as he would write in a newspaper, if his character had been attacked and he was anxious that some part of his conduct should be explained and vindicated; in fact, let him speak or write unaffectedly, sincerely, earnestly, without pausing to inquire whether his words are of Saxon, or Latin, or Greek, or French etymology; and he cannot go far wrong. These remarks, it must be recollected, are only meant to apply to the language; and on this point, a reference to all the most celebrated authors of all times and nations will, unless we are much mistaken, bear out our theory-or, rather, our absence of all theory. The strongest effect is produced without any effort either to degrade the expressions or to lift them up into the clouds. As far as the words go, any free Athenian, of any grade, could have understood and appreciated Demosthenes; and we cannot but suppose that any free Roman, of any grade, understood and appreciated Cicero. As far as the words go, any Frenchman, of any grade, might have understood and appreciated Bossuet, or Bourdaloue, or Massillon, even where their discourses were addressed to Louis and his court. Shakspeare is by no means an easy writer, and yet his plays have never been discovered to be too hard for the multitude. skilful advocate, who makes his appeal to a common jury, an able statesman or fa

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vourite demagogue, who has to address the "House of Commons," or the "Chamber," or who has to harangue the "people," or even the mob from the hustingsMr. Canning, for instance, or Mr. Brougham, at Liverpool, or, again, M. Berryer, or M. Thiers, or Daniel Webster, or Daniel O'Connell-uses the terms which he has been in the habit of using, or which strike himself as being the most forcible and appropriate; and his address is probably more felt and relished, than it would be if he lowered his style, with the aim of descending to his audience. As to English preaching, the fact is, as we have already hinted, that the large mass of hearers, including oftentimes the humblest in rank and the most deficient in education, prefer flowery, and even far-fetched, expressions; nor is there much chance of popularity without them. And if we look to periodical literature--to the weekly newspapers, for instance, and those other cheap publications, which the multitude reallydo buyand read for themselves--we shall almostuniversally discern, that one object has been to catch the ear and the imagination; and that, although the thoughts be trite and superficial, or hollow and false-although the aim may be rather to stimulate the passions, to vitiate the moral taste, or to pamper it if already vitiated, than to convince or inform the reason-still the language is never impoverished by design. It is vernacular, indeed, and idiomatic; nor the less idiomatic, be it remembered, because in the idiom of the present age and not of the past, in the best and highest idiom of the day and not in the lowest and meanest; but it is certainly very different from the diction of those well-meant tracts and those homely dialogues, which affront and repel even those to whom they are addressed, by being evidently-we had almost said, ostentatiously-addressed to the meanest capacities.

Do we, then, altogether reprobate the principle of adaptation? By no means. We have already recognized it as being, in a certain sense and to a certain extent, plainly and absolutely necessary. In a certain sense, and to a certain extent, both the matter and the manner of any composition must be suited to the hearers or the readers. But we also repeat, that the principle itself may be, and oftentimes is, pushed needlessly far; and that the application of the principle usually proceeds upon a too disparaging estimate of the popular understanding. When the aim is to make an impression upon the intellect of a nation, the greatest of all mistakes is, to point the guns of the battery too low."

2. MAN RESPONSIBLE FOR HIS BELIEF.

This topic has excited unusual attention of late, and indeed from the day when Lord Brougham taught the students of Glasgow, speaking with the authority of Lord Rector, that "man is no longer to be required to render account to man for his belief, over which he himself has no controul." We are at this moment attracted to it by the article in The Christian Remembrancer, to which we have already referred. That article is a review of the Hulsean Lectures of the Rev. Theyre Smith, Assistant Preacher at the Temple Church; and Mr. Smith chose for his subject-" Man's responsibility in reference to his religious belief explained and applied." The Reviewer introduces the subject ably :—

"The general doctrine having been stated and explained in the first lecture with equal talent and caution, the second treats more particularly of the influence of the affections on the judgment,' and contains an admirable refutation of an outrageous paradox, which, perhaps, hardly deserved such a refutation. The paradox to which we allude, is, that man may be responsible for his actions, but is not responsible for his belief or his opinions; than which no error which the selfdeceit of man has ever lodged in his bosom, can be more pernicious or more absurd, more founded on false assumptions, or more belied by common experience and observation. The doctrine broached by Mr. Owen and others, monstrous as it is, has at least a terrible consistency-the doctrine, namely, that man has no responsibility whatever: that he is not, and cannot be, responsible either for his actions or for his opinions: that he is the mere creature of circumstances, over which he

has no controul, bound, or hurried along, by the sway of an adamantine necessity; and, in short, that there is no such thing as moral merit or demerit, nothing in the whole world of realities which corresponds with the idea of duty, or with the word ought that such fancies must be expunged thoroughly and for ever from the imagination and the vocabularies of mankind; that conscience is a dream; and that it is ridiculous to attach praise or blame to any one action or opinion, more than to any other. Here, we repeat, there is at least a terrible consistency. But to assert that man is responsible for his actions, but not responsible for his opinions or belief: while the formation of our opinions is itself an action: while the conduct of the understanding, on which the belief depends, is, perhaps, of all actions the most important: while the wonderful compound, man, with his physical, intellectual, and moral being, is one indivisible whole: while the habits form the will, and the will decides, or distorts, the judgment: while the conduct of yesterday influences the sentiments of to-day, almost as much as the sentiments of today will influence the conduct of to-morrow: while, in all grave, complicated, and momentous concerns, the passions, nourished as they are by the customary behaviour, will have their voice-will, too, exercise their oftentimes despotic authority in moulding or warping the conclusions of the reason, so that, instead of being determined by the actual strength of evidence, a man will frequently determine to himself beforehand what that strength shall be, and makes it what he wishes it; on the one side, seeing everything-and, probably, more than existswith an eager, intense, and microscopic vision; on the other side, seeing nothing, because he will not look-in a word, dealing unfairly with his understanding, because his life has been wrong:-this is a transparent fallacy, a puerile contradiction, which is self-refuted even while it is pronounced. Dr. Wardlaw and other writers have done good services in exposing this folly. Mr. Smith follows up their blows, and lays bare the sophism with remarkable precision and sagacity.'

Socialism is also incidentally noticed in The Eclectic Review for the same month; the first half of the passage is admirable, the remainder we suspect is more showy than sound :—

"But apart from the perfect bestiality which it sanctions and actually produces, we beg the patience of our readers for a few moments further while we present a specimen of its pretensions to reason and truth. Its first principle, assuming to be a grand universal law, and designed at a blow to demolish the doctrine of responsibility, is one of the shallowest, most illusory, and one-sided propositions ever attempted to be palmed upon the world for a complete and self-evident proposition. 'Man,' says the oracle of the Socialists, is the creature of circumstances.' The infernal motive of such a proposition is obvious-hence he is released from all responsibility for his actions-for he cannot help being what circumstances have made him. It is intended at once to set him free-and to encourage him to glory in throwing all the blame of his delinquencies, if he has any, on his circumstances. But the proposition itself is virtually an untruth, because it is only a part of the truth pertaining to man. What if it should be reversed, and stated thus-circumstances are the creatures of man-man can make, often does make, and always may make, a very considerable proportion of the circumstances-the things and conditions around him? The very author of this system acts upon this latter proposition, that circumstances are the creatures of man-by calling upon all to take themselves out of the controul of old circumstances and place themselves in new ones. The effort to form a new moral world necessarily implies that men can regulate their own circumstances. The appeal made by this Monomaniac and all his satellites to the reason and free will of men, violates their first principle, and rests upon the one we have placed in opposition to it. If men are the creatures of circumstances, and not their creators, then the appeal to them to change their circumstances is an absurdity. But if there is any propriety in the appeal, it must be vindicated on the ground that they can change their circumstances at their pleasure, and the inducements to do so are held out in abundance by the advocates of the system. Then it is evident that they contradict their own hypothesis-and while preaching an untruth they act, and call upon mankind to act, upon its con

trary. They deceive the ear of the unwary by a lie that is pleasant to the corrupt heart, but avail themselves of the real facts and principles of human nature in effecting the change which they seek. The fallacy of the proposition is not perceived by those who hanker for its licentiousness."

Before dismissing the subject, we will let the Hulsean Lecturer be heard; he is a thoughtful man, and what he has to say deserves the attention of thoughtful men. After showing how the particular passion of anger affects the judgment, Mr. Sinith proceeds thus :

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"But dismissing this example, which however admits of a general application, it is not for a moment to be conceded, that the passions and affections have merely a temporary though violent action on the reasoning faculties; as if they were extinct or dormant when the rush and tumult of the emotions have subsided. well might we suppose that the electric principle expended itself in the phenomena of lightning, or that the agency of fire in the globe could be understoood and measured by the sensations of heat as well might we suppose that the operations of all nature were fully known by their obvious and sensible appearances. dispositions of the heart, the great motives of conduct, are continually working, for good or evil, in the depths and recesses of the mind, qualifying our apprehension of things without us and within us, past, present, and future; exerting their several affinities, if we may thus speak, among the materials of our knowledge; modifying the processes of thought; establishing susceptibilities of feeling; arranging and consolidating the parts of our character. But we can only allude to operations which, however gradually, are continnally and surely, proceeding; and advancing to momentous and enduring results in the moral world.

"We are insisting upon the fact, of which every one who reflects upon the working of his own mind must be solemnly conscious, that it is the tendency of our desires in general to fasten and restrain the attention to their objects; to crowd into view such ideas as are congenial to their nature; and thus to carry along with them the suffrage of the judgment. The fact is so indisputable and so apparently involved in the moral depravation of human beings, that some have argued, that in every guilty indulgence of a passion, the determination of the will is preceded by some erroneous decision of the understanding. We shall not push this position, or endeavour to explain its consistency with the tyranny of habit, of which the slave of his passions is often so bitterly conscious; but, speaking generally and certainly in the earlier stages of depravity, it admits of no question, that previous to the commission of an unlawful act, the understanding is actively engaged, either in creating some belief of its innocence, or suggesting some means of indemnifying the conscience for the injury to be inflicted upon it in its perpetration--suggesting the means of atoning for its guilt, or averting its punishment; and thus assuaging that fearful and degrading consciousness of demerit which dashes the pleasure of sin; and which also embitters its recollections, inasmuch as the sinner, in his penitence, cannot but perceive, that in yielding to the impulse of his passions, he has been deluded by vapid excuses for doing wrong, and presumptions of repairing its consequences, which rested on no solid foundation. The manner in which we are betrayed into evil is made evident to every one who is concerned to know himself, and to make any stand for the mastery of his own spirit.

"But it must be distinctly observed, as already intimated, that it is the nature of inordinate passions, not merely to raise a temporary illusion in the minds of men which is dissipated by returning reflection, but to warp their judgment in a deliberate estimation of their own actions, under the sway of their master passions; to commend the misdeeds to which they incite them, and render the deception as permanent as their own dominion. Can we forget-is it not notorious-that the vicious of all classes, in all time, have adopted their respective creeds, and been abetted in their doings by their special articles of belief?-that the tyrant has alleged his plea of necessity, and the invader his right of conquest or discovery; that the ambitious mover of sedition has ever held, in his vindication, the paramount claim of the public; that the persecutor has cited, in all ages, the commandment