But we return to Hamilton, who now fills his place, or rather occupies it, for it is no discredit to his successor to say, that no one can fill the place of Edward Irving. All remember that notable year of our Lord, when the Free Scotch church was formed. The old Scotch Covenanter spirit had long been curbed and chafed under the irreligious and oppressive enactments of the establishments, and, in 1843, about four hundred ministers of that order uttered a noble protest, and, headed by Welch and Chalmers, laid down their livings and honors, and declared themselves independent of the state. Old St. Giles never witnessed a nobler sight, than when, on that day, those sainted men abandoned the protection of government, and fled to the throne of God. Of these was James Hamilton, who is now one of the most efficient men of the Free church. The discourse which I heard from his lips was upon "overcoming faith;" and nobly was it preached, with all the spirit of a man who had himself exercised it, and felt its power. Dr. Hamilton has a very happy faculty of illustrating, and pours out his well-chosen and pertinent figures with the greatest abundance. He has a somewhat broad Scotch pronunciation, which would be offensive to sensitive cars; but when aroused, pronunciation and accent are alike forgotten by the hearer, who is borne along irresistibly, absorbed in the dazzling radiance which the eloquence of the speaker draws around him. His church is always full, and not seldom do multitudes go away unable to find places to sit or stand. We leave Regent Square, and find our way to the Strand, and, as it is Sabbath evening, enter Exeter Hall, where morning and evening a service is held, each Lord's day, during the time of the great exhibition, for strangers. The clergymen of the city officiate alternately, and the hall is always filled to its utmost capacity. As we crowd our way in, the whole assembly of nearly five thousand persons are singing, "So did the Hebrew prophet raise The brazen serpent high; The wounded felt immediate ease, The hymn closes, and a large, heavy man, with a full, florid face, and a strong, deep voice, commences his discourse. He is REV. WILLIAM BROCK, of Bloomsbury Chapel, said to be the most effective Baptist minister in London. His chapel is large, and in its construction and adornment superior to any of the same order in the city; and his congregation is composed chiefly of young, stirring, energetic men. His discourse on this occasion is founded on the narrative of the prodigal son, and he goes into it with a right good will, setting all the rules of rhetoric, and correct speaking and pronunciation, at defiance. His discourse is a good one, cutting down into the consciences of the wicked and abandoned, and reaching a class of hearts which would slumber under all the refined, delicate sentences of Cumming and Noel, and be unaffected by all the nice and chastely-formed essays which could be read in Exeter Hall from the year of grace 1851 to the day of doom. His eloquence is of that rude, uncultivated sort which tramples upon all laws, and carries conviction to the masses by its impulsive and overwhelming energy. Mr. Brock is a fine platform speaker, and is always welcomed in Exeter Hall with rapturous applause. He has none of the sweet, gentle persuasive of Mr. Noel, nor the brilliant. flashing genius of Dr. Cumming, nor the elegant imagery of the successor of Irving, but a rough, honest enthusiasm, which enables the hearer to endure the constant departures from the principles of correct speaking. In the notes which I took of the sermon in Exeter Hall, I find a constant repetition of the words “wern't,” and " arn't," "teachor," and "fathor." Speaking of what the prodigal did, he said, “That is the sinner all over ; " describing his return to his father's house, he said, "He went afoot and alone," which phrase only needed the addition of "as the girl went to be married," to make it appear entirely ridiculous. But while the hearer cannot but notice these blemishes, he does not feel a disposition to dwell upon them, for in Mr. Brock he sees an ambassador of God who has a great message to deliver, and who is faithful to his holy calling, concealing no truth, and covering up no sin. On the next evening, we go to Exeter Hall again, to attend a great gathering which is there to be held. Just as we enter, a short, plain, uncomely-looking man rises to speak. He begins slowly, and seems laboring to find utterance for the great thoughts which are struggling in his mind. We are almost disposed to leave the hall, so unpromising does the speaker appear. But soon some thoughts arrest the attention: we will stay a little longer. Now we are interested, for we see a fire flashing in the eye of the speaker. More eloquent he becomes every moment, and more irresistible his enthusiasm. His voice is not pleasant; his only gesture, that of bringing his right hand down with terrible fury upon the rail before him, is awkward and uncomely. But we are all-absorbed in the impetuous 7 torrent of living thoughts and burning words that come pouring out upon us. At every sentence the speaker becomes more earnest and more eloquent. The perspiration streams down his face, and in his vehemence he has thrown the thin hair down over his broad forehead, until it almost conceals his eyes. And yet, on he goes, until the climax is reached, and he sits down with a sort of defiant look, as if he had said, "Beat this who can." He is REV. JOSEPH BEAUMONT, the talented, manly, eloquent leader of the English Wesleyans. A hymn is sung, which comes swelling out from nearly five thousand voices, and another speaker is announced. Unlike the one whom he succeeds, he is a tall, broad-chested man, whose gestures and words are solemn as the grave. We see no vehemence, no beating of the rail, no jumping from side to side, no contortions of countenance, but a calm, deliberate flow of profound thoughts, expressed with clearness, and attended with power. We are listening to REV. THOMAS BINNEY, the eloquent minister of the Independent or Congregational church in Monument Square. A few years since, this distinguished man came to our country, to which visit we heard him refer once or twice in public. But while here he did not seem to possess any extraor dinary attraction, and the minister who in England could gather around him an immense and admiring audience, in Boston failed to fill the house of worship in which he preached. Whatever might have been the cause of this, and whether it is to the discredit of the minister or the people, certain is it, that eloquence is measured by a different gauge in the two centie Mr. Binney takes his seat amid the cheers of the people, and REV. GEORGE SMITH. of Poplar, takes the stand, and enters at once into an impulsive and earnest speech, which wins for him the golden opinions of the audience. He is less commanding in personal appearance than Mr. Binney, less vehement than Mr. Beaumont, less ornate than Dr. Cumming. But few men surpass him in platform oratory. His words are well chosen, and his thoughts pour out, giving us the measure of a great soul. I admired a speech I heard him make so much, that I walked one evening Ex miles to hear him preach, but, on arriving at his place of worship, found the desk occupied by a young man, who was amusing himself. trifling with his audience, and insulting his Maker, by a profoundly silly speech upon the origin of sin, and the fall of the rebel angels, about which he evidently knew as little as his audience. Leaving Exeter Hall, we find our way to Surrey Chapel, a place famous in the religious history of London. In the pulpit is an old man, his head white with age, who is preaching a discourse in behalf of the London Missionary Society-a formidable organization. whose annual income is more than sixty-eight thousand pounds. The preacher is not a city minister, but as we chanced to hear him there, and as his name and works are known and read in this country, I cannot forbear to mention the honorable name of REV. WILLIAM JAY, whose "Morning and Evening Exercises" have assisted |