I have dwelt the longer upon this particular, Reverend Sir, because the present learned Bishop of _Gloucester_, in his late volume, intitled, “The Doctrine of Grace,” is pleased to observe more than once, that he finds fault not so much with the matter, as the manner of the Methodists preaching. But if by the _manner_, his Lordship would have us to understand, not their manner of preaching in the field, but the manner of their delivery, whether in the church or field, I would humbly ask his Lordship, if he ever heard any of them preach? If not, doth our law condemn any man, or any set of men, unheard? And I would humbly enquire further of his Lordship, and all others whom it may concern, how they would have them or any others to preach?
I remember the great Doctor _Delany_, when I had the honour of being with him, many years ago, at the Right Reverend Dr. _Boulter_’s, then Lord Primate of _Ireland_, among other hints proper for a young preacher, gave me to understand, that whenever he went up into a pulpit, he desired to look upon it as the last time he should ever preach, or the last time that the people should ever hear him. O that all preachers, whether within or without doors, however dignified or distinguished, went always up into their respective pulpits thus impressed! They would then preach, as _Apelles_ once said he painted, _for Eternity_. They would then act the part of true gospel christian orators, and not only calmly and ♦coolly inform the understanding, but by persuasive pathetic address, endeavour to move the affections, and warm the heart. To act otherwise, bespeaks a sad ignorance of human nature, and such an inexcuseable indolence and indifference in the preacher, as must constrain the hearers, whether they will or not, to suspect, that the preacher, let him be who he will, only deals in the false commerce of unfelt truths.
♦ “cooly” replaced with “coolly”
Were our lawyers, our counsellors, or our players to act thus, both the bar and the stage would soon be deserted; and therefore the answer of Mr. _Betterton_, to a worthy prelate, when he asked him, “How it came to pass that the clergy, who spoke of things real, affected the people so little, and the players, who spoke of things barely imaginary, affected them so much,” is worthy of lasting regard. “My Lord, says Mr. _Betterton_, I can assign but one reason, which is, we players speak of things imaginary as though they were real, and too many of the clergy speak of things real as though they were imaginary.” Thus it was in his, and all know it is too much the case in our time: hence it is, that even on our most important occasions, the worthy gentlemen concerned in our public charities, generally find themselves more obliged to the musicians than the preachers, for the largeness of their collections: and hence, no doubt it is, that upon our most solemn anniversaries, after long previous notice hath been given, when some even of our Lords Spiritual do preach, perhaps not two Lords temporal come to hear them.
Sorry am I, Reverend Sir, to find so true, what a celebrated orator, in one of his lectures delivered, (if I am not mistaken, in the University of _Oxford_) takes the liberty of saying, “That it is to be feared this is too much the state of the pulpit-elocution in general, in the Church of _England_: on which account, there never was perhaps a religious sect upon earth, whose hearts were so little engaged in the act of public worship, as the members of that church. To be pleased, we must feel, and we are pleased with feeling. The Presbyterians are moved; the Methodists are moved; they go to their meetings and tabernacles with delight; the very Quakers are moved; fantastical and extravagant as the language of their emotions is, yet still they are moved by it, and they love their form of worship for that reason: whilst much the greater part of the members of the Church of _England_, are either banished from it through disgust, or reluctantly attend the service as a disagreeable duty.” Thus far Mr. _Sheridan_.