did consideration of effects, so far, at least, as we have evidence that God has condescended to sanctify the whole for the awakening and conversion of sinners. If the "figures of speech and gestures are strained and affected," I still inquire, How do you account for the effects? Hear an old divine: "A painted fire heateth not; nor do the gestures and motions of an artificial man, destitute of soul and life, any whit move our affections. Except the Lord touch the heart and tongue of the preacher with a coal from his altar, all the lustre of rhetorical arguments, and blaze of words will yield no more warmth to the conscience than a glow worm." One of the ancient Fathers, St. Bernard, said, the preachers he desired to hear were those under whose sermons the people hemmed not, but sighed; clapped not as at a play, but knocked their hearts as at a funeral. It was after this model St. Jerome thought to have formed young Nepotian: "When thou teachest in the church," he would say, "let there be heard no shouts of admiration, but sobs of contrition; let the fluency of thy eloquence be seen on the cheeks of thy hearers.' Were either of these Fathers in Sheffield just now, they would be joyful witnesses of the effects for which they insisted.

Yours affectionately in Christ Jesus,

J. C.

LETTER VI.

TO THE SAME.

DEAR SIR,

Sheffield, July 27, 1844.

YOUR " objections" are by no means new." They have come before me again and again in one

trating truth, by have come under Your severity is

form or other. I refer now to my manner of illusrelating those striking facts which my own observation, or that of others. such, that I can scarcely give you credit for having read, at least with any degree of attention, those sketches of our Lord's sermons recorded by the evangelists. How very seldom do you find him laying down a theological truth without holding over it the lustre of some fact which was either new or familiar to his audience. Turn to the thirteenth chapter of Matthew for a specimen of his style of preaching, "who spake as never man spake." Now, it is my opinion, the nearer any minister approaches to this order of elucidating truth,—the more closely he imitates his Lord and Master, (which must be right,)—the more useful he will be in his pulpit ministrations.

“ God,” says one, " has given us four books; the book of grace, the book of nature, the book of the world, and the book of providence. Every occurrence is a leaf in one of these books. It does not become us to be negligent in the use of any of them." It is very evident, from our Lord's sermons and conversations, that he turned over, and read attentively, the leaves of these books. Nor can I overlook the fact, that your animadversions upon my style of preaching, go to prove that you give me credit for being a close student of some of the books, at least.

When sailing up the Rhine a few months ago, I noticed a stray leaf of a book tossing to and fro along the deck of a steamer; one of the sailors, with a broom in his hand, was persecuting it, and some other unwelcome objects, with a determination to have them overboard. The leaf, by aid of the wind, maintained its position on the deck, till I stepped forward to its rescue; thinking it might possibly contain a sentiment more important than the famous Sibylline leaves,

in days of yore, and which, in some future time, might be of more use to me than to the turbulent shores of Prussia. Hear what the humble leaf said; it was, in fact, as if designed for yourself. As I saved it from destruction, it seems, by way of reward, that it is ready to stand forward in my defence: "Philosophers," said the leaf, "have long deemed any theory to be true which accorded with all the facts of the science. It is upon this principle that the sublime systems of astronomy are accepted as truth. Newton's proof of the law of gravitation, and of its influence throughout the solar system, consists in the accordance of the facts of the planetary movements with the hypothesis laid down. If the test be sufficient in physics, why not in philology ?" So much for the leaf. Now with the above sciences I have nothing to do, farther than to say, If the truth of a theory be established in physics or philology, when there is an accordance of facts with the claims of the science, why may not facts be called in as witnesses when they accord with the high claims of Christianity?

With all due deference to your judgment, I think the proper management of such facts in my discourses, is one great cause of my success. "In truth," said a minister once, " to be effective, we must draw more from nature, and less from the writings of men; we must study the book of providence, the book of nature, the heart of man, and the book of God; we must read the history of the world; we must deal with matter of fact before our eyes." I have studied these books pretty closely for several years past, both by sea and land, at home and abroad. I have seen much, suffered something, and learned a little. I did not come to England to tell people merely what they already know, but to make them feel what they know. Do you understand me? But it is because such as you either know not, or will not know, my aim, that

instead of appreciating my motives, you rather endeavour to injure my influence over my hearers by turning the whole into ridicule. My grand effort, generally, is to make my hearers feel what they know. The knowledge in the head must be brought to bear upon the heart and conscience. It frequently happens, that a simple illustration, a fact of history, or of science, an anecdote, an appearance or feature in natural scenery, is the only key that will unlock the treasury of the understanding. Sometimes half a dozen of such keys are tried without success, but the seventh opens the door. The knowledge of the head is then driven to the heart, and deposited there, and works, by the assistance of the Holy Spirit, that repentance which is unto life. Many a time have I laid siege to the judgment of the sinner. The battering-ram of truth has been directed against the door with a determination to effect an entrance. Convinced that within there lay deposited, as in an armoury, some of the choicest weapons of eternal truth, my purpose was not to raise the siege until I had possession of the whole of them. Sometimes the siege has lasted one week, two, three, six, or eight weeks; then the place has surrendered, or been taken by storm; but, in many cases, I have proved the truth of the following remark, which I have met with somewhere: "The minds of some men will stand, as it were, a regular blockade, and yet yield to a side blow; sit unchanged under a searching ministry, and yet fall beneath a casual word;" bid defiance to the most powerful, sublime, and terrifying appeals, and yet break down and surrender under the application of some simple and touching narration. I have seen, since my arrival in this country, almost an entire congregation dissolved into tears, among whom were some of the stoutest and proudest sinners; men who had often laughed to scorn the loftiest arguments of Christi

anity; and all this by the following fact, which I learned in Dublin, and which occurs to me just now as an instance: A grey-headed and pious father had a very wicked son. The old man had often prayed and wrestled with God on his behalf. But he became worse and worse. Never, I believe, did that father close his doors against the returning prodigal. Some of the neighbours, one day, addressed the father with considerable severity, saying, "Why harbour that reprobate son of yours? Why don't you turn him out of doors, and banish him from your house?" Aye, aye," said the aged saint, his grey locks trembling with emotion," You can all turn him out but his own father." Now, had I dropped the matter here, it might have had little more effect than some touching scene upon the boards of a theatre; for people frequently weep at the theatre; but the pity, the benevolence of God, the long-suffering and tender mercy of our heavenly Father were pressed home upon the weeping audience; and many a sinner determined, from that hour, to fight against his God no more. If any seemed to linger, and hesitate to yield their hearts to him now, I reiterated, with many tears: "Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him." Nor have I given up the point till the countenance of the reluctant sinner told me he was saying in his heart,

"Nay, but I yield, I yield,

can hold out no more;

I sink by dying love compell'd,
And own thee conquerer."

With regard to my "repeating so much poetry" in my sermons, my object is the same, the awakening and conversion of my hearers. It often happens, however, that I repeat no poetry at all. But if, in my judgment, I think a verse or two, or three or four

D