perhaps owing to the disgust which some preachers of strong and cultivated intellects have felt at this kind of hysterical display, that they confine themselves, exclusively, to the judgment of their audience, or, if they appeal to any passion at all, that it is only to the passion of terror. For my own part, I prefer the plan of Massillon. He was persuaded,' says D'Alembert, 'that if a minister of the gospel degrades himself by circulating known truths in vulgar language, he fails, on the other hand, in thinking to reclaim by profound argumentation, a multitude of hearers, who are by no means able to comprehend him; that all who hear him may not have the advantage of education, yet all of them have a heart, at which the preacher should aim; that in the pulpit, man should be exhibited to himself, not to frighten him by the horror of the picture, but to afflict him by its resemblance; and that if it is sometimes useful to terrify and alarm him, it is oftener profitable to draw forth those ecstatic tears that are more efficacious than those of despair.' "I have observed, already, that the spirit of deep and humble piety shewn in the pulpit, was of itself almost sufficient to make a preacher eloquent; I am persuaded that it is but necessary that this quality be found united with a sound understanding and a kind heart, to render a preacher eminently affecting and useful; supposing him to possess what every man who presumes to address the public is always supposed to possess, a knowledge and command of the language in which he is about to speak. A sound understanding, decently cultivated, a kind heart, and pure and fervent piety, are qualities which ought, in my opinion, to shew themselves in the manner of every preacher. This, I think it must be admitted, is not a very heavy exaction; and yet it is inconceivable to those who have not observed and reflected on this subject, what desolation it would produce in the ranks of the clergy to require them, man by man, to walk up and to be measured even by this very moderate standard. Of how many pert and conceited prigs, how many mouthing and ranting agitators, how may shallow and mewling pietists, would the simple requisition of a sound mind, rid us. Then the requisition of.decent cultivation, what havock would it make among the fraternity of oystermen? How many are there whose manner in the pulpit would meet the requisition of a kind and feeling heart? Alas, this quality is much more rare than the kind and feeling themselves are disposed to take for granted. And not a few, nay even some of those who are thought the mighty men of the pulpit, would fall before this standard. But the requisition of a manner intensely breathing the pure and fervent spirit of a genuine, meek, and humble piety, would, I fear, do most mischief of all, and leave but comparatively very few standing in the ranks. How many within your own knowledge would bear this test? I beg you to pause, and to call up to this standard, one by one, all the preachers whom you have ever heard: not to glance over the whole line by one stroke of the eye; but to take time to make the trial, deliberately, man by man. If you make this trial thus deliberately and fairly, I shall be much surprised if you will not yourself start at the result. Away will go all the vain, the conceited, the affected-away will go many a pretty orator, who is at present very well satisfied with himself-away will go all the pretty men, vain of their eye-brows, their ringlets, and their personal beauty—(frown not, Sir, for I have seen such in the pulpit)-— away will go all the hard-mouthed, hard-hearted Saracens, who presume to throw the bolts of the Almighty, and forget how richly they deserve the first one themselves-away will go many a stately preacher who now plumes himself on his dignity, his intelligence, his learning, his energy, and even his eloquence-yes, Sir, many a high head and proud heart would fall, were their pulpit manner tried by this simple gospel standard—yes; some of those, who, on account of their real or reputed talents, now stand aloft, primi inter pares, would, if tried by this test, stand no longer. It is indeed most mournful and afflicting to recollect how very rare this most touching of all the qualities of a Christian preacher is. I have seen it a few times in my life in men of high talents, and its effect was so exquisite, so exactly in accordance with my notion of the manner of our Saviour, that I can scarcely recognize any man as a minister of the gospel of Christ, who does not possess it. Nothing to me can ever supply the place of it. It happens, too, unfortunately, that it is precisely where it would produce the highest effect, that it is most rarely to be met with-I mean, in preachers whose talents are of the first order. In general, it seems to me that these men consider their whole duty to consist in being terrible in rebuke, and they deal out their fulminations with a barbarity so merciless, that one cannot help thinking them much better fitted by nature for apostles to the bloody Mahomet, than to the meek, and lowly, and benevolent Jesus. Their effect is correspondent. They are admired and applauded, and there is the end of it. Ah! it was not thus that the celebrated Flechiere thought; nor thus that he pronounced those discourses on which D'Alembert has past this beautiful eulogium. "Their style is not only pure and correct, but full of sweetness and eloquence. They were truly pathetic; but this property became still more sensible when the orations were pronounced by the author. His serious action, and his slow and somewhat feeble voice, brought the hearers into a disposition of sympathetic sorrow: the soul felt itself gradually penetrated by the simple expressions of the sentiment, and the ear by the soft cadence of the periods. Hence he was obliged to make a pause in the pulpit, that he might leave a free course to plaudits, not of the tumultuous kind which resound at our profane spectacles, but expressed by that general and modest murmur which eloquence wrests, even in our temples, from an audience deeply moved; a kind of involuntary enthusiasm, which not even the sanctity of the places can repress.' 192 POETRY. THE LAMENT OF THE GOLDFINCH TO ITS MISTRESS. Supposed to be heard issuing from the tomb the night after its interment. 1. Oh weep for me, 'tis finish'd now, 2. Oh weep for me, and water well Heard mingling with the ev'ning bell, 3. Departed times and days gone by, Oh weep for them, oh As I had wept and mourn'd for thee, 4. The lay the lay, we wont to sing, 5. It made me think of field and grove, Young love, whose tendrils oft do twine 6. Oh! yet most dear my cage was grown, I neither wish'd nor would be free, Till, losing all desire to roam, 7. Ah me! the thread, the slender thread, The life I then so sweetly led; 8. Then weep for me, oh! weep for me, There pensive birds, on branch and spray, Dear maid, when thou art far away. B. "REJOICE IN THE LORD ALWAY; AND AGAIN I SAY, REJOICE."-PHIL. IV. 4. Bright with a thousand varying charms, And shouts unto her sons, "Rejoice!" See how the landscape laughs around, While man rejoices not alone, But in the smiles of those he loves, A richer, dearer blessing proves. But hark! I hear a mournful cry VOL. VII. No. 13. "For him can nature's beauty shine, "Or smiles illume the mourner's cheek?" Yes!-e'en from their dim tearful eyes She speaks of joys beyond the tomb! "Short are the woes you suffer here, "Eternal bliss awaits your choice; "And in the view of blessings near, "The child of mis'ry may rejoice." But, conscience-struck, oppress'd with shame, "In vain would reason guide me right, "And dread my future fate to view." Oh sinner! turn not yet away, List to the comfort faith can give! Her hands a radiant cross display, She bids thee look on that and live. "Here doubts must end, and murmurs cease, "His love, his purity, they share, CHRISTIAN WARFARE. Christian soldiers, wake to glory! B. L. |