foremost of which are that man is a sinner, and therefore needs a Savior; that Christ died for all, and, therefore, all may come to him for "salvation, happiness, and heaven"-meet that class of wants in the condition and experience of the masses which nothing else can supply, and, therefore, can not fail to receive their hearty and almost unquestioning assent, their firm adhesion.

The feeling of isolation and abandonment, so peculiar to the condition of the poor, dependent masses, and which lends a tinge of sadness and gloom to their whole life, must, in the nature of things, always find fitting comfort and solacing balm in those simple doctrines, supplemented by the spiritual reassurance afforded in the stirring poetic productions of the Wesleys, and the animating songs of the Methodist Church.

In view, therefore, of its peculiar fitness and adaptation to the wants and interests of mankind generally, and its special function to supply the spiritual longings of the masses, so far as human wisdom, foresight, and management are capable, Methodism is not likely to lose its power and influence over the masses; and I hazard but little when I venture to predict, as I now do, that whatever new and untried religious methods the next century may reveal, if Methodism is maintained by the coming generations in its simplicity and purity, its second centennial will find it what it is to-day-the matchless instrumentality for gathering the masses to Christ.

THE AIM AND CHARACTER OF METHODIST
PREACHING.

A. S. HUNT, D. D.

THE far-reaching and benignant results of the Wesleyan revival are largely due to its preaching. The aim and character of this preaching we are here to consider.

The aim of Methodist preaching is to save individual souls from the guilt and power of sin. From the days of Wesley until now our preaching has found its key-note in these sacred words: "God was pleased to make known what is the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles, which is Christ in you the hope of glory; whom we preach warning every man, and teaching every man, in all wisdom, that we present every man perfect in Christ Jesus."

The character of Methodist preaching is in consonance with its aim, and, in theory at least, both the aim and the character are what they were in the times of our fathers. The two pithy paragraphs concerning "the matter and manner of preaching" which appear in the Methodist Discipline of most recent date are essentially the same which Wesley published in the "Large Minutes" at the beginning.

The initial movements of Methodism were not sustained by ecclesiastical authority. Many of the preachers, indeed, were laymen, while all were despised and persecuted by the Churches of the lands in which they labored.

Again, while there have been not a few learned and scholarly men in

the ranks of the Methodist ministry, many, especially during the earlier years of our history, were without the culture of the schools.

Once more, the doctrines of the Methodist pulpit are not essentially new. Wesley and his "helpers" and successors on both sides of the sea have constantly affirmed that they were the heralds of truth which was believed by Puritans and Reformers, by early martyrs and Christian fathers, and, before all, by the great apostle to the Gentiles.

And yet, without ecclesiastical sanction, with little learning, and with no essential novelty in their doctrines, the preachers of Methodism have achieved a work which is one of the growing marvels of the Christian ages. If we ask how this has come to pass, we shall at once be confronted by these three facts, namely: That, though they were without ecclesiastical sympathy and support, these preachers stood firmly upon the doctrine of a divine call to preach, and thus had the sanction of a power higher than that of the Church; that their want of many books did not prevent them from becoming spiritually wise, through their prayerful study of the one Book; and that their declaration concerning the catholicity of their doctrines was always accompanied by the most emphatic assertion that they held the old dogmas in a new way. To each of these three points we may well give further attention.

Others before their time had professed to be "inwardly moved by the Holy Ghost to preach the Gospel," but none had ever found in the phrase a greater wealth of meaning than it revealed to these followers of Wesley. They were perfectly persuaded that the Almighty had laid his hand upon them, and "thrust them out;" that they were God's ambassadors, commissioned to bear a message to men. A modest estimate of their own gifts made them shrink from the responsibilities of their high calling, but the day of judgment was coming, and they dare not keep silence.

Concerning the spiritual knowledge of even the most unlettered preachers of early Methodism, we have the testimony of Wesley that "in the one thing which they professed to know they were not ignorant men." He believed there was not one of them who could not pass a better examination in substantial practical divinity than most candidates for holy orders, even in the university. These preachers most cordially accepted the Bible as a divine revelation, and they therefore made it their constant study. God's thoughts, clothed in the language of men, were intrusted to their stewardship. They heard the solemn charge which comes sounding down the centuries from the times of Jonah, the prophet, "Preach the preaching that I bid thee;" and the prompt response which they gave was in the spirit of the apostle's words, "As we have been approved of God to be intrusted with the Gospel, so we speak; not as pleasing men, but God, which proveth our hearts."

And now a further word concerning the manner in which, after "his heart was strangely warmed," Wesley and all his loyal successors have cherished the doctrines which they proclaimed. They have ever declared that these ancient dogmas of the Church catholic were no longer lifeless words, but had become to them, in a glad personal experience, the power, the wisdom, and the love of God. Their faith was not of the head alone, but also of the heart, and "with the heart man believeth unto righteousness." Adopting the doubly sacred words which the apostle quoted from the Psalmist, "I believe, and therefore speak," each fervid itinerant be

came a living witness. The time-honored confession, "I believe in the forgiveness of sins," was transformed into the jubilant cry, "I believe in the forgiveness of my sins." Thus the dead letter of the creed became radiant with the light of heaven, and the city, the hamlet, and the wilderness were made to echo with the strains of the matchless singer of the great revival— "What we have felt and seen

With confidence we tell,

And publish to the sons of men

The signs infallible."

We have now named what we regard as the chief sources of power in Methodist preaching. They are a divine call to preach, constant devotional study of the Bible, and, with emphasis, a personal experience which transforms the letter of the Christian doctrine into life. From one or more of these three sources every striking characteristic of Methodist preaching is a legitimate outcome.

Take, for instance, naturalness of address. The unconventional bearing of even the first generation of Methodist preachers was due in no small measure to their solemn sense of the obligations of a divine call to the ministry. They reasoned that each man must be true to himself or fail to meet the claims of God, who knew the individual gifts of his ambassadors before he commissioned them. Methodism believes most heartily in "diversities of ministrations and the same Lord," and hence, while urging her preachers to a holy emulation, she charges them to maintain their individuality by imitating no one but Christ.

The typical Methodist preacher is distinguished, also, for great directness in his mode of address. This characteristic is the natural outgrowth of the twofold assurance that he is personally saved, and that he is called of God to lead others to the Savior. Circumlocution would belie both his convictions and his feelings. If he had only negations and hypotheses to proclaim, he could announce them in well-balanced phrases to humanity in general; but since he is clothed with authority from God to say something definite and positive to individual souls, he must deliver his message with the utmost directness.

Turning, now, to characteristics which pertain to the subject-matter of preaching, we find that these also hold vital relationship with the three sources of power which have been named. Consider the recognized fact that Methodist preachers have discoursed with peculiar constancy and ardor upon the subject of sin and salvation. This they have done because they had learned the meaning of sin and salvation in the school of the heart. The most erudite homily upon the nature of sin could not teach them its awful sinfulness, as they had learned it from a believing look at the cross and from the horrors of that epoch in their personal history when the Holy Ghost uncovered the corruption of their own hearts. Henceforth the platitudes which mean, if they mean any thing, that sin is well-nigh sinless, provoked their most vigorous denunciations. They had come to know that sin is a loathsome disease, for which, in all the universe, there is but one remedy. Of this remedy they could speak as wisely as they spoke of the disease. Their faces were aglow with the health of spiritual joy which bore witness to the genuineness of their own recovery, and made them irresistible as they pointed sin-sick souls to Christ, the Healer.

Again, Methodist preaching addresses itself with peculiar earnestness to the heart and the conscience. This characteristic is the fruit of the knowledge of

human nature, to be learned only from a devout study of God's Word, and from a personal apprehension of the truth that "spiritual things are spiritually discerned." Thus has the preacher learned that the heart and the moral sense may remain unmoved long after the judgment has been convinced. While, therefore, he does not fail to argue, he does not pause at the conclusion of his argument, but promptly proceeds to besiege the heart and the conscience. He makes his appeals warm with his warmest love, declaring that he is "so affectionately desirous of his hearers that he is willing to impart unto them not the Gospel of God only, but also his own soul, because they were very dear unto him." Filled with this apostolic spirit of tenderness, like the gentle George Herbert, he “dips and seasons his words heart-deep." He does not stand apart and aloft, delivering his message in cold tones to men afar off and beneath him; but he comes down to the field of conflict where his brothers languish, determined, if it be possible,

"With cries, entreaties, tears, to save,

And snatch them from the gaping grave.”

Thus he conquers the hearts of his hearers, and "deep answers unto deep." But the moral nature may remain unyielding after both the intellect and the heart are vanquished. What power can compel the conscience? There is but one response, and the preacher has learned it from the oracles of God and from his personal and ministerial experience. He knows that his own efforts will prove vain unless the Holy Spirit aid him in answer to his prayers.

Thus we come to speak of prayerfulness as a marked characteristic of all Methodist preachers who have been true to Wesley's injunctions. The private journals and familiar letters of the early preachers are filled with proofs of their faith in the value of human intercession. This was their oft-repeated plea: "Pray for us, that the Word of the Lord may run and be glorified." They rested in the promises of God, persuaded that the best reason for accepting any thing to be true is the simple fact that God had spoken it. Prayer was to them a real asking and a real receiving. In Bethune's beautiful tribute to Summerfield he says that "he not only prayed before he preached and after he preached-for he went to the pulpit from his knees, and to his knees from the pulpit-but he seemed to be praying while he preached, invoking blessings for, while he pleaded with, sinners and saints." These are strong words; but the prayerfulness of many plain and obscure men has merited a similar tribute. Such supplicants look for immediate evidences of the saving mercy of God under their ministry, and are disposed to regard a "barren time" as punishment for some inconsistency or unfaithfulness in their own characters and lives.

This brings us to consider, as another characteristic of the typical Methodist preacher, his profound conviction that his character and conduct must afford a living and luminous comment upon his message. It is emphatically a Wesleyan doctrine that the preacher must be a holy man, since he is the ambassador of a holy God. The "Rules for a Preacher's Conduct," set forth in the Methodist Discipline, are probably the most solemn and comprehensive presentation of the charge, "Take heed to thyself," to be anywhere found in the uninspired writings of men. In this demand for a godly ministry, if in nothing else, there is ample justification for the

kindly saying of Vinet, that " Methodism is Christianity trying to be consistent."

The characteristics which have now been named do not, indeed, pertain to the pulpit efforts of all Methodist preachers, and they do belong to the preaching of many who are not Methodists. Not long ago it fell to my lot to hear a Methodist minister read a carefully prepared religious dissertation, which was evidently intended to move no one in particular, and as evidently succeeded; and it was recently my good fortune to listen to a discourse from a Presbyterian pastor, who, in earnest extemporaneous address, urged his hearers to accept Christ as a present Savior. In matter and manner it was Methodistic, and more than once, while thrilled by his appeals, I was reminded of Howard Crosby's words before the Brooklyn General Conference. "I rejoice to believe," he said, "that when God sent the Methodist Episcopal Church into America, that Church was called and elected-called and elected to conquer the country in order to put fervor and activity into the Presbyterian Church, and it has made its calling and election sure." We may have leanings toward Calvinism, which will incline us to assent to the half-playful statement of this learned divine; but we surely do not lean so much in that direction as to believe that the Methodist minister to whom allusion has been made was called and elected to preach what he did, and as he did. It was not Methodist preaching. Is it not both strange and sad that when many ministers of other denominations are adopting our characteristic ways of fervid extemporaneous discourse, we should take up the methods which they have deliberately abandoned?

Some aspects of our theme demand a glance, though they may not now be adequately treated. Here is the itinerancy, which is a great fact in Methodism, and holds positive relations to its preaching. It measurably determines the character and limits the range of our pulpit themes; but it should not be forgotten that this is largely a reactionary result, the antecedent fact being that the itinerancy was a legitimate outcome of the momentous importance of the few subjects the preacher felt moved to discuss. He was impelled to lift up his voice, here and there and everywhere, crying, "O that the world might taste and see The riches of his grace!"

Great as is the difference between a pioneer preacher moving from place to place, with all his worldly goods in his saddle-bags, and a snugly housed Methodist pastor of our own times, yet the sway of the itinerant system is over them both, and it surely will not be regarded by any as a detraction from its merits that the conscientious minister of to-day is moved, by the very brevity of his term of service, to discourse with more frequency and definiteness than he would otherwise do upon the great central truths of the Gospel.

But candor demands the confession that the system has made it easy for men of inadequate convictions of the grave responsibilities of their calling to culminate at that very period in their career when their development in personal character and ministerial influence ought to be most rapid and signal. The only efficient cure for this moral malady—and an efficient cure it is—is a new baptism of the Holy Spirit, which will impart a purpose to put circumstances under command.

Again, the duties of the Methodist minister have been largely multiplied, with