subject. This rule, although it seems very obvious, is perpetually neglected. For every branch and topic of theology is so comprehensive, and all have so many points of contact with each other, that it is very easy to pass from one to another at all times. If, then, any difficulty occurs on one line, another is immediately presented in the room of it, or an excursive fancy, which likes to follow any sudden thought into distant consequences, perpetually tempts one to digress; or any strong or favourite set of opinions or feelings leads the thoughts insensibly to the accustomed channel; or, perhaps even more than all, a settled dislike of any system or party instinctively moulds every argument into a shape of opposition against this. These and other causes combine to make men forget this rule. Sometimes it is owing to want of skill and experience only: as, when a novice, anxious to do all that he can, draws deeply on his stock of knowledge, and mixes up something of almost every subject that he is master of. The effect of this is, that a man after it is in the state which a young preacher once described, when he came down for the first time from the University pulpit; he said he felt as if he had "preached away all his Divinity." There never can be any occasiou for this want of arrangement; for every subject which the preacher can take from Holy Writ, is, for his purpose, really inexhaustible, if he knows how to draw it out and apply it; but in order to do this, he must confine himself strictly to the subject, and work it out by thought and study; not by suffering his mind to ramble over the whole field of doctrines and precepts. A diffuse and vague

method can never be profitable preaching: it may interest some persons, while it is new to them, but after a while the preacher is likely to fall into the same track of general topics again, with small edification to his hearers. The "workman that needeth not to be ashamed," must "rightly divide the word;" and the well instructed scribe must, like the householder, "bring forth out of his treasure things new and old," as occasion may require. It is especially incumbent on young preachers to think of this, because they have many temptations to spare themselves the labour of this strict method; and yet, if they give way, and fall into a loose habit of composing, they may never be able to correct it, or at least, not without great pains and loss.

The study of our early English Divines is one method to prevent falling into a rambling way of composing. In them, the divisions made for the sake of analyzing and exhausting the subject, are

sometimes too precise, at least for the taste of the present time. But no one who had been used to observe how Barrow, for instance, grapples with a text, to what a depth he sounds it, and how minutely he sifts it, could readily allow himself in a shallow off-hand style, disposing of whole subjects at once, each in a single proposition. But this head, the use to be made of our English Fathers, demands a few words more. We are speaking of them now as models of composition for the young preacher only; and therefore need not consider the many other reasons why they ought to be studied. We ought, indeed, to go to them as pupils to their masters, for the sake of the vast stores of biblical knowledge which we shall draw from them—for the deep and genuine piety, and the self-discipline which we cannot but learn from their writings in general: but regarding them as preachers only, they will be of the greatest value to the student. It is not indeed advisable to a young preacher to set about to form his style on the model of any man, nor to train himself (as rhetoricians have directed) by copying closely from some great master; and certainly it would not be possible now to imitate any of the old writers so closely. But all of our English Fathers have some great excellence, which deserve to be studied as examples, and our endeavour should be to imbibe the feeling and power of each in that point in which he excelled, if possible; and it might be hoped that the effect of a wide acquaintance with them would be, that we should derive from them some of their sterling good qualities, without any affected imitation of their mere manner. If we had set out with the design of copying any one person in our preaching, no doubt it would be more tolerated by any hearers, that we should occupy a modern than an old Divine, because the manner of the latter would be quite obsolete; but if our object be to catch their spirit rather than to imitate their letter-to inherit their mantle, not to mimic their gait and gesture-the case is quite changed; and without disparaging the works of later writers, surely there cannot reasonably be a doubt, that a student would gain more in power to compose from the study of those of our Divines who flourished from the Reformation down to the revolution, with all their roughness and archaisms, than he would by reading the more polished works of later times. It would exceed our limits to work out these hints. Let it only be added on this point, that every one would at once perceive in each of the old writers alluded to, a distinct character or quality for his instruction ; as, for instance, in Latimer or Hopper, he would see simple earnest

ness; in Taylor, fancy and feeling, and an inexhaustible flow of eloquence; in Andrewes or Hall, fervent piety; in Sanderson, clear practical expositions; in Barrow, an endless fund of learning; in Pearson, unerring precision of statement; in all these, a familiarity with Scripture, as if it were engrained into the very constitution of their minds. All of these, then, in turn, and others in the same way, would impart something of their own quality to the student's mind; and so, from the study of all, he would approach towards general excellence. But attempting to keep closo to the subject must not mislead into a dry and dull manner, or a tedious and prolix style. This is not closeness, but barrenness. No method is less dull than that which puts a single subject in many different lights--which is being close, but not barren. It is barrenness of thought which causes men to wander into other subjects; when they have not skill to vary the point they are discussing, they turn aside to something else. Nothing is more likely to produce dullness than too wide or too complex a subject. For these need many arguments, which must, from their number, be put shortly and close together, which is the dullest of all styles. For common hearers it is not so much abundance of argument and cogent proof that is needed, (for they generally admit what is laid down,) as opening, applying, and enforcing the truth. A very short and simple argument is enough for a sermon in common cases. Young men, on the contrary, are inclined to work out the arguments most of all, and to reason as they would reason in their own minds; whereas, their hearers would be more persuaded by the comparisons, examples, analogies, contrasts, er applications, which they might use, than by the clearest logic. This, of course, does not exclude argumentative preaching of the highest order in many cases, as, to learned hearers, and indeed occasionally and in due proportion in all places; for doubtless the proof is the foundation of all the truth, and the reason is never to be neglected; but we must consider the persons, and think how we can best edify, not using mere forms of argument, but such as will most convince the reason of those to whom we speak. AN ANONYMOUS WRITER.

NOTE E.

EXPOSITORY PREACHING.

INSTEAD of taking a text which comprehends within itself the whole subject of which you would treat, it may often be useful to choose one which hath a reference to things preceding or following it, and to expound all the context. This will afford you a variety of matter, and give you opportunities for short unexpected remarks, with which persons are frequently more struck than with an entire discourse; for of the latter they foresee the drift all the way, and therefore set themselves to fence against it. Thus also you may illustrate the beauties, at the same time that you show the practical uses of large portions of Scripture at once: for instance, of a parable, a conversation, a mir⚫acle of our blessed Lord, or a narrative concerning this or that other memorable person, whether deserving of praise or blame : for Scripture histories and examples are easily remembered, and have great weight. In proportion as we overlook them, we shall appear less to be ministers of God's word, and our people will have less veneration for us, or for it, or for both. You may also in this method, as you go along, obviate objections to passages of God's Word, without stating them in form, at which otherwise many may stumble, if they read with attention; and if they do not attend, they will read with no profit. Several things in Holy Writ seem to be strange; hardly consistent one with another, or with our natural notions. Of these difficulties, which must always perplex persons, and may often deliver them over a prey to infidels, you may occasionally remove one and another, meddling with none but such as you can overcome; and from your success in these you may observe to your auditors the probability that others are capable of solutions also. Perhaps they will forget your solution, but they will remember that they heard one, and may have it repeated to them if they please. By these means you will teach your people what is grievously wanting in this present age, to value their Bibles more, and understand them better; and to read them both with pleasure and profit, drawing from them useful inferences and observations, as they have heard you do Formerly courses of lectures on whole books of Scripture were customary in churches, and they were doubtless extremely beneficial. It would not be easy, if

possible, to revive these now, but the practice which I have been proposing to you, is some approach towards them.

ARCHBISHOP SECKER.

In choosing the subject of their lecture, it is the custom of some to take a book of Scripture in order. This seems not to be the most advisable plan. It is not necessary, for your people do not pay much attention to the order, and it is a great restraint upon yourself, confining you to ground which the incidents of the day may make it less profitable to work than other; nor can it fail to impart a formality and dryness to your lecture. It were better to choose a passage which is most in unison with your present predominant reflections, which will most probably have been influenced by the circumstances of the day, and therefore will be responded to by the hearts of your hearers. However your choice may have been directed, you must first of all canvass the passage well in the original Greek, penetrating into the exact senses of the words, ascertaining the real shape of the figures, the proper bearing of the allusions, excluding at present the representations of your own imagination as much as possible. Having thus satisfied yourself as to the real contents of the passage, then examine it in the English version, carefully noting the terms in which it differs from your own mental translation. This is advisable, because, though you are not to convey the sense of the version, you are to convey the sense of the original through that version; and, as it is far from prudent to state that there is any difference between them, you must, in case of such difference, consider how you can adapt the version to your use, without any discernible departure from its text. If you cannot adjust the matter, choose another passage; for remember, that though the English be the authorized vehicle, the Greek is the original authority; and though the necessity of the case compels us to read out an imperfectly translated passage, truth demands that we should not interpret according to it.

The next step is to commit the passage to heart in the Greek, a matter of little difficulty after a proper consideration of it. Then you can turn it over in your mind during your walks from house to house, and during also your waking hours at night, of which you must expect a few after the anxiety and fatigues of a hard day's work. It will thus be like leaven, swelling and extending its influence through your whole mind, and taking in every little circumstance. When you leave a house you will have added a hint or two of com