LETTER XI.

HOW TO MOVE THE PASSIONS OR FEELINGS-FIRST BY INDIRECT MEANS.

To speak of an appeal to the passions, conveys to many people the idea of a mode of address, little in harmony with the soberness of a sermon. It reminds them of Peter the hermit urging the warriors of Europe to the crusades; or of some modern agitator inflaming the passions of the populace. True it is, that the bad passions are those most easily and most frequently excited, but it must not be forgotten that there are good passions as well as bad. Not only anger, jealousy, revenge, hatred, malice, and uncharitableness; but love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, meekness, faith, temperance, gratitude, exultation, hope, all these partake of the nature of passions; though it may be more in accordance with common acceptation if we call them feelings or affections.

Persuasion is the end of all preaching; but it is clear that persuasion and conviction do not always go together. A man will sometimes be persuaded without being convinced, he will act ἑκὼν ἀέκοντί γε θυμῷ --but much more frequently convinced without being persuaded. Conviction is, indeed, generally speaking, an essential preliminary to persuasion, yet it is necessary to go a step farther before the preacher's object is attained. It is not enough to convince men how penitent and humble they ought to be, how grateful to God, how charitable to their neighbours; there is something beyond this; they must be persuaded to be so. The preacher has not performed his task when he has convinced his hearers of their sin and danger, but he must persuade them to forsake the one, and guard against the other.

And this is to be done principally by moving the passions, or the feelings. When the reason is brought to assent to the truth of any proposition, and the feelings are wrought upon, and urged to action-then, and not till then, will the will be gained, and a man be disposed to act, and by God's grace will act, in consequence of what he hears; and then, and not till then, is the preacher's task accomplish ed.

It is in this last require ment of their art, that English preachers are mainly defective. "Sermons," says Blair, “have passed too much into mere reasoning and instruction, owing to a distaste to fanatics and puritans. This will account, not only for the ineffec

tiveness of preaching in general, but also, in some cases, for the thinness of congregations; for people will not go to hear where they are not made to feel ?" I am the last person to advocate extravagant and passionate declamation; still, it is a Christian minister's bounden duty to aim at such a style of preaching as will move and win the affections of his hearers. It is said of Bossuet and Fénélon,-"l'un preuve la religion, l'autre la fait aimer." Surely, the latter is the point to which the preacher's exertions should be directed.

The appeal to the feelings or passions may be either direct or indirect. We will consider the latter

mode first.

Of the indirect modes of appealing to the passions, an instance will occur to you in the parable of the ewelamb, by which the prophet stirred up the conscience of David'. Indignation against the crime is surreptitiously excited, before any hint is given of the application of the story. Thus also Dean Stanhope, after commenting severely on the base ingratitude of the lepers, who neglected to thank Jesus for their recovery, adds, "This passage is the very picture of mankind, and holds out to us a glass, in which almost every soul may see its own disposition but too exactly represented, too strongly reflected."

Of indirect modes of moving the feelings, and en

1 2 Sam. xii.

2 Luke xvii.

gaging the affections, a certain copiousness and vividness of description is most within the preacher's province. Thus, if he wishes to impress his hearers with solemn and piteous feelings for the accomplishment of God's wrath upon Jerusalem, he would not say only that Jerusalem was destroyed, but "that it was laid even with the ground, and her children within her," "the ploughers made long furrows;" "there was not left one stone upon another." Or if he wished to imprint on their minds a vivid feeling of the agony of our Lord, he would not merely mention the fact, but describe the circumstances and moral accompaniments. "Surely he bears our griefs, he carries our sorrows, he undergoes the chastisement of our peace. See his mortified look, his troubled gestures, see the bloody sweat-strange symptoms of the smothered pangs which rend his righteous heart. See him prostrate on the earth in anxious supplication'."

Not only strong feelings, but calm and pleasurable emotions of pity and interest are called up, in the same way, by simple description, and by prevailing upon the mind to dwell on details, however comparatively unimportant. Thus, in the description of Abraham on Mount Moriah: "And Abraham took the wood of the burnt offering, and laid it upon Isaac his son; and he took the fire in his hand, and a knife; and they went both of them together. And Isaac spake unto Abra

ham his father, and said, My father: and he said, Here am I, my son. And he said, Behold the fire and the wood but where is the lamb for a burnt offering? and Abraham said, My son, God will provide himself a lamb for a burnt offering: so they went both of them together. And they came to the place which God had told him of; and Abraham built an altar there, and laid the wood in order, and bound Isaac his son, and laid him on the altar upon the wood. And Abraham stretched forth his hand, and took the knife to slay his son 1."-How affecting are these minute and simple details! Who would leave out a single word ? Most sermons contain a good deal of description; some consist almost entirely of it. The last may, in some respects, be compared to a piece of sacred music. Suppose, for instance, you choose for your subject that interesting and beautiful portion of Scripture, the angels appearing to the shepherds, and announcing the nativity of Christ'. There is nothing here which needs to be proved or explained: all is simple narrative. The subject may be treated by describing the different circumstances which took place. As Handel, in his Messiah, dwells on each incident of this interview in a suitable strain of devotional music, and subdues the feelings, and melts the soul to holy and rapturous emotions: so, what he does by music, may the preacher accomplish by the power of descrip

1 Gen. xxii. 6—10.

2 Luke ii. 8.