"BY

IN UNREASONABLE PREJUDICE.

Y the way, my dear," said a minister to his wife as they sat at breakfast one Monday morning, "I did not tell you last night that two young men, who have lately joined our congregation, came into the vestry after the service and thanked me very warmly for my sermon, and the elder one, who seemed very thoughtful and earnest, said he should be thankful to have a little conversation with me on religious subjects when I could give him an opportunity. I was the more pleased because, as you know, I rather disliked preaching the sermon, as I had given it to the people about four years ago, and know how much some persons object to hear a discourse a second time, even though they may have forgotten everything but the text. However, there was no other choice, for I had so many unavoidable engagements last week, and such unexpected interruptions to study, that it was impossible for me to prepare a second sermon for Sunday, much as I should have preferred doing 80."

“Well, really,” said Mrs. Seymour, "people who know nothing about hard study themselves, seem to think a minister's brain is a mere piece of machinery that can be wound up and set going at any moment, quite irrespective of health of body or leisure for careful preparation. But I am very glad you did preach the sermon, for I think the people generally were much interested, and I am thankful to hear what you tell me about the two young men."

"There was one person who seemed very uncomfortable, and consequently annoyed me a little," said Mr. Seymour; "and that was our good friend Mr. Rabone, who fidgeted about in his seat and looked as though he were enduring martyrdom."

Perhaps he had a bad toothache, poor man," suggested Mrs. Seymour.

"I think not," replied her husband, "for he seemed in excellent health and spirits when I met him at the chapel gate before the service; and I observed nothing unusual in his manner till I gave out the text and began to preach, when his look of annoyance was so marked that I could not help seeing it. He is generally an attentive hearer, but I suppose he is one of those people who think they cannot possibly get any good from a sermon they have heard before, whatever its matter or quality."

66

"I wonder," said Mrs. Seymour, "if he has the same objection to reading a book a second time. Surely his memory is not so remarkably retentive that he never forgets anything he has once heard or read."

"I suspect," said Mr. Seymour, "that if I were to question him I should find he had but a very indistinct recollection of any sermon he heard four, or even three years ago, however attentively he may have listened to it. The fact is, that most persons soon forget sermons, though they may recognise the more striking parts when they hear them again. And, surely, if a sermon has been carefully prepared, and is worth preaching at all, it will bear repeating after a reasonable period of time, and with advantage too, if only for the sake of those who have not heard it before. But I see it is getting late, and I have some sick people to visit this morning, so good-bye, my dear, for the present."

66

Good-bye," said Mrs. Seymour; "let us hope our friend has got over his discomfort by this time, and that if he sees you he will be able to give you a smile. He ought to be very thankful if he can digest sermons so easily, and should try to sympathise a little with his weaker brethren who need 'line upon line, and precept upon precept.""

About an hour after her husband had left the house Mrs. Seymour received a call from Mrs. Rabone, who excused herself for coming so early by saying that she was anxious to secure a little chat with her alone. After a few mutual inquiries Mrs. Seymour, thinking her visitor seemed rather embarrassed, said kindly, "I think you said you wished to have a little conversation with me, did you not? I hope you have not had anything to trouble you."

"No, thank you, not exactly; but the fact is, I have something to say which I fear may give you some little annoyance.”

"I am sure you would not willingly say anything to annoy me, dear Mrs. Rabone," said Mrs. Seymour. "Pray speak frankly, and treat me as a friend."

"Well, then, to tell you the truth, my husband was rather vexed at Mr. Seymour's preaching an old sermon last night. Not that he had any fault whatever to find with it, but he thinks it a pity a minister should preach his old sermons when he can get up new ones."

"It would certainly be undesirable to preach old sermons frequently, and without a really good reason," said Mrs. Seymour, "and

I should think that no truly conscientious minister would do so in order to save himself trouble. I am quite sure my husband would not—indeed, I have heard him say that, as a rule, he greatly prefers preparing new sermons: but surely, when, owing to the state of his health or an unusual pressure of other engagements, he finds it impossible to compose two new sermons, it is better to preach a carefully prepared old one than to get up in the pulpit without having been able to think out his subject."

66

I hope Mr. Seymour was not feeling ill on Sunday," said Mrs. Rabone.

"No, I am thankful to say that was not the case, but during the former part of last week his time was so taken up by engagements that he could not avoid, that he had very little leisure for study; and on Friday morning, just as he had settled down to work, he was called away to see a dying man three miles distant, and did not get back till the morning was nearly gone. Then on Saturday he had to conduct a funeral at the time which he would otherwise have devoted to the preparation of his sermons. So you see how a minister's study is sometimes broken in upon.”

66

Ah, it is indeed; and I fancy that if people knew it they would be more reasonable than they sometimes are, and would not expect impossibilities from their minister."

"And I cannot help thinking," said Mrs. Seymour, "that, after the lapse of three or four years, a sermon must be tolerably fresh even to those who have heard it before; and if it contains valuable and instructive lessons it may be as well worth hearing again as a good book is worth reading a second time. Do you think your husband remembered much of last night's sermon, Mrs. Rabone ?"

"I really cannot say. He certainly has a good memory; but I should think he must have forgotten a great deal of the sermon after so long a time. I am sure I did not remember it, though I recognised the text when Mr. Seymour gave it out. For my own part, I was glad to have an opportunity of hearing it again, and should not have said a word about the matter, only Mr. Rabone talked of speaking to Mr. Seymour, and I thought that if I were to call and have a few words with you it might prevent unpleasantness."

66

'I am much obliged to you for speaking so frankly," said Mrs. Seymour ; " and I know you would wish me to do the same. You say you do not think it likely your husband remembered much of the sermon, and probably you are right; but, even supposing that he

and a few others had a tolerably clear recollection of it, yet there were many persons in the chapel last evening who were not there when it was preached before. You know that congregations are continually changing; and it would surely be a pity for new comers to lose the benefit of hearing a sermon which might prove very useful to them, simply because others in the congregation had heard it some years ago. Now, I am glad to tell you that last evening two young men, comparative strangers, spoke very gratefully to Mr. Seymour of the profit they had derived from the sermon to which your good husband listened with so much discomfort. And who can tell but that with God's blessing it may be the means of lasting benefit to them?"

66

'Indeed, I sincerely hope so," said Mrs. Rabone. "I am very glad to hear what you tell me, and so will my husband be, I am quite sure."

"And may we not hope," continued Mrs. Seymour, "that these young men were not the only persons who received good? For, besides all those to whom the sermon was new, there were doubtless many present who, like yourself, had almost, if not quite, forgotten it. By the way, talking about forgetting sermons reminds me of an amusing story I once heard of a well-known minister. He was engaged to preach for the London Missionary Society, and in going from chapel to chapel he always observed a certain man in his congregation who was evidently following him about. At length, after one of the services, this person presented himself to the minister in the vestry, and on being asked what he wanted, said that he had come to request him to preach another sermon, as he had heard that one so often. 'Well, then,' said the minister, 'I suppose you know it almost by heart, and can tell me at once what the first head was?' The man hesitated, and was obliged to confess that he could not recollect it. Perhaps you can remember the second head,' said the preacher. No, he could not call it to mind. The third, then?' The man was obliged to own that that, too, had escaped his memory. 'Ah,' said the minister, 'I see we must preach it again.'

"Well," said Mrs. Rabone, laughing; "it is to be hoped that few people are afflicted with so short a memory as that. Still, I have little doubt that sermons are generally so far forgotten that they might be heard again after some years with profit and pleasure, if they were listened to without prejudice."

"Besides," said Mrs. Seymour, "it does not always necessarily

follow that because the text is an old one the sermon is old too, though I fancy people are sometimes apt at once to jump to this conclusion. Mr. Seymour has, I know, sometimes preached an entirely new sermon from a text he has used before; and surely no one could say that a minister ought never to preach more than once from the same text to his people."

"I should think not, indeed! There are some verses in the Bible that can scarcely be preached from too often. But I really must not detain you any longer. I shall tell my husband what you have said, and I hope he will try to overcome what I really call his unreasonable prejudice."

Mrs. Rabone faithfully kept her word; and Mr. Seymour never afterwards had any reason to complain of Mr. Rabone's manner when, occasionally, he gave his people an old sermon.

Z.

HOW TO MEND OUR CHURCH METHODS.

BY A. SHORTMAN.

No. II.-FUSSY PEW-OPEners.

THE pew-opener, verger, or apparitor, has very much to do with our comfort on the Lord's-day; and I have often found him to be a most estimable and helpful person. Very much depends on first impressions, and he often makes good ones. When little matters go smoothly, when doors are closed at the right time, so that the minister can begin the service in perfect stillness, when over-crowding is avoided, and when we are relieved, quickly and quietly, from a wet umbrella or cloak, we do not always remember the readiness and thoughtfulness which lie behind these things. We too often forget to give" honour to whom honour is due." But there is another sort of pew-opener. Some jarring chord, spoiling the harmony of the day, may be struck at once by his or her ludicrous, fussy, or obtrusive manners. Not long since, a clergyman at Nottingham, in an address on public worship, spoke well and earnestly on the need for a wise selection of persons to fill this office, and of the influence their manners had on the attractiveness of God's house. And if such words seemed needful in the case of one of the Established churches, much more are they needful with respect to our churches, where we owe everything to religious attractions, and nothing to that set of