PULPIT PORTRAITS, 
 
 PEN-PICTURES 
 
 OP 
 
 DISTINGUISHED AMERICAN DIVINES; 
 
 SKETCHES OF CONGREGATIONS AND CHOIRS ; 
 
 AND INCIDENTAL NOTICES OP 
 
 EMINENT BRITISH PREACHERS, 
 
 BY JOHN BOSS DIX, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "PEN AND INK SKETCHES, "PASSAGES FROM THE 
 
 HISTORY OF A WASTED LIFE;" " PEN-PICTURES OF 
 
 ENGLISH PREACHERS;" "THE LIFE OP 
 
 JT^^CHATTERTON;" ETC. 
 
 ^3&&~ A -^i 
 
 7Z>*&* THE 
 
 V 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 TAPPAN AND WHITTEMORE. 
 
 MILWAUKEE: A. WHITTEMORE & CO. 
 CHILICOTHE: WHITTEMORE & SAXTON. 
 
 1854. 
 
ftf 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, by 
 
 TAPPAN AND WHITTEMORE, 
 
 in the Clerk's office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 
 
 ANDOVER : J. D. FLAGG, 
 Stereotyper and Printer. 
 
CONTENTS, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Page. 
 
 Early Recollections. A Dull Preacher. Reminiscences of 
 Pulpit Orators. A Word or Two about what is to 
 Come 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Picture-Making and Word-Sketching. A Literary Party. 
 Departed Friends. A Slight Mistake. The Rev. Mr. 
 Stockton, of Philadelphia. Notices of Wm. Dawson and 
 Robert Newton. . , 20 
 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Pen-Pictures in Providence. Scenes at Brown University. 
 President Wayland. Dr. Caswell, A Scene in Church, 31 
 
IV CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Page. 
 
 The Rev. Dr. Bethune, of Brooklyn, N. Y. Personal ap- 
 pearance. Style of Oratory. Extemporaneous preach- 
 ing. Croly. Dr. Bethune as an Author. Notice of 
 Dr. Sharp 40 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Sabbath Morning. A Cosmopolitan Creed. Rev. Mr. 
 Miner's Church. Piety and Politeness. Floral Decora- 
 tion. A Sketch of the Preacher and the Service 47 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Copp's Hill. Monumental Mockery. Salem Street Church. 
 The Rev. Edward Beecher, D. D 64 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Brooklyn, Ancient and Modern. Its Churches. A Word 
 or Two on Church Architecture as it" is and as it should 
 be. Dr. Cox's Church. Sketch of the Preacher. His 
 Style. His Defeat of the Mormons. Anecdote of Win. 
 Jay 74 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Page. 
 
 Rowe Street Church. A Church among the Mountains. 
 Hymn Books and Hymnology. An Effective Choir. 
 Dr. Baron Stow. His personal appearance. Style of 
 Preaching. The Orator and the Teacher 89 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Sunday in New York. Trinity Church Yard. Early 
 Church Impressions. Dr. Magoon's Church. Whistling 
 a Psalm-Tune. Sketch of Rev. E. L. Magoon. His 
 Style 104 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A Sailor Preacher. Ann Street. Father Taylor. The 
 Bethel Church. Its Congregation 114 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Sailor Preachers, Continued. The Press and the Pulpit 
 Sketch of Father Taylor's Preaching. " Old Timber- 
 head" Anecdotes, etc 128 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Speculations. The Music Hall. Theodore Parker's Con- 
 gregation. The Preacher. His Personal Appearance, 
 Style, etc , 134 
 
VI CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Od Divines. Comparison between South and Lyman 
 Beecher. Mr. Lovejoy's Successor. Dr. Beecher's 
 Personal Appearance. Fragments of his Early History, 150 
 
 v 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Dr. Lyman Beecher, Continued. Anecdotes. His Tact. 
 
 Remarks on his Style 160 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 John Overton Choules, D. D. Early Recollections. A 
 Library Talk. The Church at Newport. General 
 Remarks 169 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Reminiscence of Lant Carpenter, D. D. Visit to Federal 
 Street Church. The Late Dr. Channing. Dr. Ezra S. 
 Gannett 186 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Rev. John Pierpont. His Appearance. His Style of 
 Preaching, etc. Rev. E. H. Chapin. .195 
 
CONTENTS. Vil 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Page. 
 The Bromficld Street Church. A Reminiscence of Dr. 
 
 Beaumont. The Rev. Joseph Cummings. His Style of 
 Oratory. General Remarks 208 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Flashy Preaching. Dr. Richard S. Storrs. Appearance. 
 
 Style of Preaching, etc. 214 
 
 CHAPTER XX, 
 
 Henry Ward Beecher. Plymouth Church. Appearance 
 and Style of the Preacher. Sketch of Rev. Hugh 
 McNeile, of Liverpool 221 
 
 |, . CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 A Cluster of Churches. Mount Yemen Church. The 
 Choir. Congregational Singing. lie Rev. E. N. Kirk. 
 Sketch of the Hon. and Rev. Baptist W. Noel 236 
 

 PULPIT PORTRAITS; 
 
 OR, 
 
 P E N-P T U R E S 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 EARLY RECOLLECTIONS. A DULL PREACHER. REMINIS- 
 CENCES OF PULPIT ORATORS. A WORD OR TWO ABOUT 
 WHAT IS TO COME. 
 
 I HAVE always been a lover of eloquence. No matter 
 whether it iM|ed from the pulpit or the platform ; from 
 the calm elevation of the sacred desk, or the stormy 
 surface of the political hustings, it had an indescribable 
 attraction for me. If I entertained any preference in 
 the matter, I believe the fervid outpourings of religious 
 orators were the most prized JJ^luc in the days of my 
 boyhood. 
 
 How this taste or passion, for at one period, it really 
 amounted to such an exaggeration of feeling, arose, I 
 cannot tell. Certainly it was not called into existence 
 by the weekly ministrations of the very good, but very 
 dull preacher who officiated as pastor of the church of 
 which my parents were then members. Child as I was, 
 1 
 
2 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 when I used, in accordance with my beloved father's 
 ^pleas of family discipline, to go unwillingly, Sunday after 
 
 Sunday, to C Chapel, I well remember that I often 
 
 felt weariness, if not disgust, while listening to Mr. 
 
 H 's heavy discourses. I can see him now, and 
 
 call up again the whole chapel scene, just as it was in 
 
 those days of " long ago^g^ir. H was a large, 
 
 fat man, with a red, exprelBiless face, a partially bald 
 head, and very little medullary matter of any conse- 
 quence beneath its highly polished surface. This lack 
 of hair, he once, at the persuasion of his wife, I believe, 
 attempted to supply with a " front," or fragment of a 
 wig. The poor man used to perspire freely, and the 
 only pleasure he ever afforded me was the unconscious 
 displacement of this " front" by his pocket handker- 
 chief, as he swept the latter across his moist forehead. 
 The flock tittered, but the shepherd, with his " front" 
 adorning one side, went on preaching untitte discovered 
 his disaster, and confusedly removing tne cause of it 
 hurried it into his coat pocket. He never wore false 
 hair again. 
 
 How terribly tedious were his sermons to me. The 
 only consolation I fAmd was in Watts's hymn book, 
 which by stealth I consulted in my pew corner. Wha* 
 a joy and a relief it was when on a wet Sunday evening 
 I was permitted to stay at home with my mother, who 
 had a fine taste for poetry, and loved to repeat hymns to 
 me. .1 see myself now sitting beside the parlor fire, on 
 a carpet-covered footstool, whilst the flames were brightly 
 reflected from the Dutch tiles which lined the fireplace, 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 3 
 
 and flickered on the golden pipes of the little chamber 
 organ, that had one " barrel" of sacred tunes for Sab- 
 bath days ; and on the frames of the portraits of my 
 brothers and sisters ; and listening to her soft gentle 
 voice as she read Bible narratives, or Doddridge's 
 hymns, (Philip Doddridge's mother used to teach her 
 son Scripture stories from Dutch tiles, too ;) or as she 
 would tell me of Mrs. Hannah More, whom she well knew, 
 and of Mrs. Newton, (the sister of Thomas Chatterton, 
 the "marvellous boy" of Wordsworth) who had been 
 her schoolmistress ; and she would sing in her low pleas- 
 ant voice, hymns which I now never listen to, but the 
 days when I first heard them come back again. More 
 than thirty years have passed since then ; but neither 
 life's storms nor calms have banished from my heart, and 
 they never will, these home memories. 
 
 What a pleasure, too, it was to me, when occasionally 
 my father, wh%was a deacon of the church, would come 
 home from a week-evening service with the intelligence 
 that a stranger was to preach on the following Sunday, 
 Any change to me seemed a change for the better. I 
 think now as I thought then, that it could not well be 
 for the worse. At such times my flight was increased 
 by the prospect of a personal acquaintance with the new 
 preacher, who my father, by virtue of his office, fre- 
 quently entertained at his table. Even then I was a bit 
 of a hero worshipper ; and I was thus afforded opportuni- 
 ties of seeing and hearing some of the notabilities of 
 that day. As I grew older, these facilities became more 
 frequent and were greatly prized, especially as I became 
 
4 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 a sort of favorite with our visitors, chiefly, I believe, 
 because I possessed a good memory, and so could readily 
 quote the " heads" of sermons when required. For 
 this accomplishment I used to get many an approving 
 pat on the head from the reverend gentlemen, and I 
 have no reason to doubt that I rose considerably in my 
 own estimation in consequence. But there were some 
 who used to notice me, of whose commendations, a child, 
 or one of larger growth, might not without reason be 
 proud. 
 
 Among these, I well remember one who now occupies 
 a foremost station in the ranks of London preachers. 
 This gentleman was then a young, thin, delicate, curly 
 headed student of Divinity, with a soft, pleasant voice, 
 and a smile that was fascination itself. At that period 
 he could not have been more than nineteen or twenty 
 years of age, but already he had become popular. 
 Every week, almost, he took tea at our i^ble ; and by 
 me his coming was looked for anxiously, and his appear- 
 ance hailed with delight. He did not as our old pastor 
 used to do, bore my childish mind with grave, almost dis- 
 mal lectures on religion, which I could understand just 
 enough of to be frigllftned by ; but he gently led me by 
 the "still waters" of piety, and charmed whilst he in- 
 structed. This was JAMES SHERMAN, now the successor 
 of Rowland Hill, at the Surrey Chapel, Blackfriar's 
 Road, London, and the -pastor of the largest church in 
 the British metropolis. Fully has his now more than 
 middle age confirmed the promise of his youth. By the 
 young he is still almost idolized, as he was in the early 
 
PJEX-PICTUllES. 5 
 
 part of his career. Time has thinned and streaked with 
 grey his flowing hair, and spectacles intimate that the 
 bright eyes are less capable of performing their visual 
 office than of yore ; but his warm heart has lost none of 
 its benevolent pulsations, and his watchful eye none of 
 its looks of love. 
 
 Mr. Sherman was a prime favorite of my childhood, 
 as he now is of my " older day." Reader of these 
 reminiscences, should you visit London, go and hear 
 him, and my word for it, you will not be disappointed. 
 Hereafter, I may have to speak further of him; at 
 present I must go on with this half autobiographical 
 chapter. 
 
 Time flew on. The old pastor of whom I spoke, at 
 length tired out his hearers, so that his congregation 
 dwindled down to a few dozen. Oh ! those dreary Sun- 
 day services, during which I used to gaze on a wilder- 
 ness of deserted pews, and listen, perforce, to the mel- 
 ancholy echoes of the church choir ! If I had not been 
 kept in strict subjection, I should have run in disgust 
 from the chapel. As it was, many were the excuses I 
 invented for going to hear some other preacher in the 
 
 city. At length the farewell sermon of Mr. H was 
 
 preached, and I was taken to his vestry after the dis- 
 course, to bid him good-bye. Some of the women mem- 
 bers were weeping, and I suppose some soft portion of 
 my heart caught the infection, and I blubbered also, 
 young hypocrite that I was, for the certainty that I 
 should have to listen to no more dull thumpinga of his 
 ecclesiastical drum, filled my heart with delight. 
 
6 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 It so happened that the city of Bristol, in which 
 these scenes occurred, was more than usually fortunate 
 at that period, in possessing great preachers. But this 
 fact added much to my annoyance, for I well knew that 
 whilst I was listening to prosy sermons, within a few 
 streets' length, several of England's most gifted men, 
 and one who was on all hands acknowledged to be the 
 " prince of modern preachers," were delighting and 
 edifying their hearers. That time, indeed, constituted 
 the Augustan age of Bristol ; the city was a positive 
 reservoir of ministerial talent, and to it, as unto a centre 
 of attraction, were drawn those who, either from feelings 
 born of piety, or from motives of mere curiosity, desired 
 to hear the " outpourings" of pulpit magnates. 
 
 From a volume of mine, recently published in Lon- 
 don, I may perhaps be permitted to extract the follow- 
 ing, which will afford some idea of those palmy days of 
 dissent in my native city : 
 
 Men, universally acknowledged by their contempora- 
 ries to be " arbiters of taste, and masters of opinion," 
 thought it not beneath them to resort to Broadmead 
 Chapel, to hear the pure streams of " English, unde- 
 nted, " which every Sabbath day flowed from the elo- 
 quent lips of Robert Hall. In a pew of that meeting- 
 house, which has been rendered famous by its pastors, 
 might often have been seen Sir James Mackintosh and 
 Henry Brougham Plunket, too, was a visitor there ; 
 and he dsclared that, until he heard Hall, the prince of 
 preachers, he did not know what preaching really was. 
 
 Besides Hall, there were at that time other ministers 
 
FEN-PICTURES. 7 
 
 of mark ; men who, though they did not shine with a 
 brilliance equal to that of the great luminary, were not 
 extinguished by its flood of splendor. Little disparage- 
 ment is it to the present occupants of the pulpits of 
 Bristol to assert , that the palmy days of preaching in 
 that ancient city have passed away. An Augustan age 
 comes not twice. Estimable and talented are the men 
 of whom we shall presently speak ; and possibly they 
 may be more useful preachers than the departed wor- 
 thies, so far as relates to " the million," but that the 
 mantles of Hall and some of his contemporaries have 
 fallen on their shoulders, no one, we imagine, will be 
 inclined to assert. 
 
 Well do we remember . Robert Hall. As we write 
 these memorials, the living man seems to stand before 
 us just as he appeared in the pulpit in old times. The 
 grand and capacious forehead bare, on its lofty sum- 
 mit ; the sparkling, yet solemn eyes, lighted up as he gives 
 utterance to the splendid creations of his powerful intel- 
 lect ; the rather short nose, the large mouth, the broad 
 lower portion of the face, and the double chin, are 
 vividly apparent, as is the broad and ample chest, 
 pressed against the pulpit ; and the hands one gently 
 raised from the Bible, the other resting on the page. 
 The whole man, indeed, is depictured in our memory. 
 Our ear also receives anew echoes of tones long since 
 uttered ; the weak voice, the hesitating sentences at the 
 commencement of the sermon, the continuous flow of 
 musical language as it proceeded, and the almost jubi- 
 lant tones with which it ceased. 
 
8 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 Another of the Bristol " celebrities" was John Foster, 
 the well known author of the " Essays," and one of the 
 most profound thinkers of modern times. An eminent 
 minister recently said to us, when we introduced his 
 name in the course of conversation " Ah! sir, Foster 
 was a man without a heart." We do not agree with 
 him. A heartless man would not have written as the 
 great Essay est wrote. A heartless man would not have 
 shunned hollow popularity, and found his chief delight 
 in preaching in the cottages of the poor, as Foster did. 
 Tt is true, that owing to the peculiar constitution of his 
 mind, he was prone to look at most things through 
 gloomy media, and that his imagination was almost al- 
 ways morbidly tinged ; but the few who knew him best, 
 arid loved him most, agree in declaring that no man pos- 
 sessed more generous sympathies, or kindlier impulses. 
 Mr. Foster seldom preached in Bristol, but when he did, 
 \t was an " event." Every one went to hear him, im- 
 pelled by the same sort of curiosity as that which made 
 the literary people of eighty years since throng Mrs. 
 Thrales's rooms, in order to hear Dr. Johnson talk. 
 Church people and dissenters, clergymen and Methodist 
 parsons, Unitarians and Baptists, sat side by side, pre- 
 senting a rather startling spectacle, especially in a city 
 where considerable animosity then existed between the 
 members of different sects. The personal appearance 
 of the preacher was singular enough; he resembled 
 rather a country farmer, than a minister of the gospel 
 and an eminent writer. As he mounted the pulpit 
 stairs, you saw before you a stout personage, in an un- 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 9 
 
 mistakable wig, which the renowned Truefit never could 
 have turned out of his establishment ; a wig, pointed at 
 its summit, the shape of the forehead being rather pyra- 
 midal. The eyebrows were large, black, and bushy, and 
 the eyes beneath, dark, bright, and keen. These, how- 
 ever, were half concealed by a pair of huge circular- 
 rimmed silver spectacles, which rested on a long nose. 
 From the partial absence of teeth, the mouth was some- 
 what retracted, but its angles had what John Keats 
 calls, a " downward drag austere. " A blue, old-fash- 
 ioned coat, with huge skirts and ample pockets outside, 
 and decorated with large brass buttons ; a black waist- 
 coat ; drab small-clothes, arid top boots, with a thickly- 
 rolled neckcloth, completed John Foster's costume ; and, 
 certainly, anything more unprofessional could scarcely be 
 imagined. But all this singularity of appearance was 
 forgotten when the great man commenced his prayer, 
 which itself was, as a lady once observed, " one of Mr. 
 Foster's essays which we stand up to ; " and then his 
 sermons ! At first the text was mumbled out, and one 
 was apt to feel something like disappointment ; but that 
 feeling quickly passed away as the preacher proceeded. 
 To give anything like a verbal description of Foster's 
 style would be next to an impossibility, and, therefore, 
 we shall not attempt the almost hopeless task. 
 
 William Thorpe was, literally and figuratively, another 
 great Bristol preacher. Of Elephantine dimensions, he 
 literally filled the pulpit of Castle Green. His forte 
 was the exposition of mystical texts ; and on certain oc- 
 casions, where time was allowed him for preparation, ho 
 
10 PULPIT PORTRAITS : OR, 
 
 was highly impressive. lie was, however, far from being 
 an original preacher. To compensate for this, his 
 memory, like his person, was " prodigious," and this 
 constituted the great and unfailing bank on which ho 
 drew. Robert Hall said of him that he was a reservoir, 
 not a fountain ; and he was right. This fact renders 
 his few published works all but valueless, there being 
 little in them which may not be found in previously pub- 
 lished standard works. His name lives in the affection- 
 ate remembrance of many friends ; but his fame as an 
 orator perished, when for the last time he quitted the 
 pulpit. 
 
 In the neighboring city of Bath, too, there was an- 
 other great attraction, for a young and enthusiastic mind 
 such as mine. There William Jay preached, and few 
 have not heard of that remarkable man, who yet sur- 
 vives, the last unquenched star of the constellation of 
 sacred orators who shone in all their brilliance twenty 
 years ago. Very often did he visit Bristol for the pur- 
 pose of preaching Anniversary Sermons, arid never did 
 I fail to hear him on such occasions. His personal ap- 
 pearance was very striking ; but let me again quote from 
 my London volume : 
 
 " There is something in the massive head of Mr. Jay, 
 which reminds one, at times, of the grand old head of 
 some ancient statue of Jupiter ; it is large, and abund- 
 antly covered with silvery hair which, sweeping from one 
 of the temples, discloses a splendid forehead. The eyes 
 are peculiar, being dark, extremely bright and lively, 
 and of a most searching expression. Eyebrows large, 
 
PEX-PIOTURES. 11 
 
 of a darkish grey, overshadow these " windows of the - 
 soul,'* as some old writer has called them. The nose is 
 short, and not classically formed, and the mouth is, if 
 anything, a trifle too large for the connoisseur in such 
 matters. A double chin fades imperceptibly away into 
 a short neck, which is connected with, as we before in- 
 timated, a broad, expansive chest. 
 
 " Taken as a whole, the face is an extremely fine one ; 
 and stamped as it now is with the radiance of a good 
 old age, few can behold it without a reverential feeling. 
 It is capable of a great variety of expression, and so 
 does it change with the changes of the preacher's sub- 
 ject, that an intelligent deaf person once told me, he 
 " could almost understand Mr. Jay's sermon, by the 
 mere looking at him." Deep pathos, genuine humor, 
 sly sarcasm, biting irony, or boundless benevolence, are 
 by turns indicated. As we sometimes behold on a hill- 
 side, now the shifting shadows made by the clouds sail- 
 ing above ; and anon, behold bright patches of sunlight, 
 where gloom had been but a moment before ; so on the 
 countenance of the subject of our sketch, the mind's 
 varied emotions are alternately depicted, and each so 
 imperceptibly blends with the other, that, though fully 
 conscious of the changes, we do not discern the precise 
 moment when those fine transitions of thought and ex- 
 pression occur. 
 
 " The style of Mr. Jay is one exclusively his own. 
 He imitates no one ; and no preacher whom I have 
 ever heard, resembles him. Usually, he commences his 
 sermons with some abrupt, terse aphorism, which would 
 
 '^-^l^v 
 
 wVt 
 
12 I'ULPIT POKTiiAITS: OB, 
 
 seem to have little to do with his subject, and which 
 sometimes, indeed, has nothing in connection with it. 
 He is not rapid in his delivery, but rather the reverse ; 
 his sentences are delivered with great emphasis. His 
 discourses may sometimes be almost called coversational, 
 for he talks to people as well as at them. Occasionally 
 he produces a prodigious effect by a solemn strain of 
 eloquence, immediately following some remarks which 
 had, spite the sanctity of the place, provoked a smile ; 
 for as in the case of Rowland Hill, he has a flow of wit 
 which cannot always be restrained. But he never de- 
 scends to buffoonery, nor profanes the pulpit by low jests. 
 No man feels more than he does, that when in the sacred 
 desk he stands on sacred ground. His occasional ser- 
 mons are models of this kind ; at such times, it is not 
 an uncommon practice of his, to select rather peculiar 
 texts take for instance, his funeral sermon for Rowland 
 Hill, when he chose as the motto of his discourse, the 
 words c Howl ! fir trees, for the cedar has fallen !' >: 
 
 If Robert Hall was the prince, Jay is the patriarch 
 of London preachers. " His life," says a recent writer, 
 "has been a most interesting one from boyhood upward, 
 speaking constantly to the people; and now we touch 
 his name with hallowing feelings. * 
 
 He is indeed the representative of an ancient race of 
 preachers, without the remotest pretensions to scholar- 
 ship, or to extraordinary powers of thought ; he belongs 
 to the race of which Matthew Henry and Scott were 
 the greatest expositors and leaders." 
 
 Three years ago I heard William Jay preach in Sur- 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 13 
 
 rey Chapel before the London Missionary Society, and 
 few passages of personal import can be more interesting 
 than the account of his ministry which I took down in 
 short hand as it fell from his lips. I will take the liberty 
 of quoting it here : 
 
 " Six days ago I entered on my eighty-third year. 
 When I first ascended these steps with trembling knees, 
 I was not nineteen. 
 
 * Many changes have pass'd since then ; 
 Many changes I have seen ; 
 Yet have been upheld till now ; 
 Who could hold me up but Thou ? ' 
 
 " Perhaps there are few, if any, persons here this 
 morning who heard my first address then, from the 
 words of the Apostle * God forbid that I should glory, 
 save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.' I was then 
 young and tender. The work was great, and the Lord 
 was pleased to afford assistance, and give me very con- 
 siderable acceptance. So that I remember, when I had 
 been taking my leave of the congregation here in my 
 farewell sermon, still the crowd remained in the chapel- 
 yard here and refused to disperse, till I opened the par- 
 lor window and addressed them again. From that time, 
 for half a century, I annually served this chapel for 
 eight Sabbaths for many years, and then foi six and then 
 for four. I cannot accurately calculate, but I must 
 have spent three hundred Sabbaths within these walls, 
 while my sermons or service s have been no less than 
 fifteen hundred. You see, therefore, that my ministry 
 2 
 
14 PULPIT PORTRAITS : OR, 
 
 must have been very much affected by this place, and I 
 feel many responsibilities, at this moment, arising from 
 it. At length I gave up my annual assistance here, not 
 from any dissatisfaction on either side, but from the want 
 of some recreation and leisure which I had never enjoyed 
 till then, and also from a conviction that my remaining 
 extra labors should be devoted to the country, for you in 
 London will always be rich enough ; you will always, by 
 fair or foul means, secure all the assistance you need. 
 I therefore devoted the remainder of my life to labor- 
 ing in the country and in my own usual sphere of labor 
 there. 
 
 " I have borne the pastoral office for upwards of sixty 
 years, during which time my church has been three times 
 enlarged, and the congregation remains as large as ever. 
 
 I have preached much, especially in my younger days, 
 in villages, where I have found great delight. I have 
 also frequently preached, especially on public occasions, 
 for various denominations, without offending others, or 
 without violating my own convictions. Such is now the 
 general accordance and harmony of all the parties who 
 hold the truth who hold the Head (whatever may be 
 their difference in other respects,) that though the 
 barriers are not yet removed, (and I do not know that 
 it is desirable that they should be removed,) yet they 
 have been lowered enough to enable us to see each other 
 over them, and to shake hands together ; and there are 
 now several little holes, through which we may pass and 
 return, in aiding one another, in these services, and on 
 these occasions. 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 15 
 
 " I knew many of the second generation, and some 
 of the first generation of Methodists ; and can make, 
 therefore, a comparison between things then and things 
 now, as to the profession, and as to the preaching, and 
 character of the preachers now and then. I have often 
 quoted the words of the prophet, ' My soul desired 
 the first-ripe fruit.' Oh! there was something about 
 those early converts that was very peculiar. They 
 were simple-hearted Christians, dead to the world, but 
 all alive in their love to God ! But I am not going to 
 deprecate the present preachers, and the present state 
 of things. I am persuaded we have improved in some 
 things ; improved in many things. I should think my- 
 self very ungrateful if I were, on just going off the 
 stage, to ask, 6 Why were the former days better than 
 these ? ' for I should ' not inquire wisely concerning this 
 matter.' 
 
 " Finally, in relation to this Institution. I attended, 
 first, some of the private meetings for preparing a public 
 exhibition. I was happy enough to hear and attend 
 the first public convocation. I preached one of the first 
 annual sermons at Tottenham Court Chapel. It is de- 
 lightful to me to think, and it will encourage you to be 
 informed, that the sermon was of good, in being the 
 means of the conversion of one of the most worthy and 
 valuable and excellent of men ; I refer to our late friend 
 Mr. Hyatt, who preached for your Institution, and who 
 has always held it very near his heart. And how many 
 sermons I have preached for it I cannot say. I have not 
 
16 PULPIT PORTKAITS: OB, 
 
 been a friend to the platform God having graciously 
 pleased to deny me that privilege. 
 
 " I hope these grey locks will excuse this little gar- 
 rulity. It is not probable that I shall have another 
 opportunity of addressing you again, at least on such a 
 public occasion as this. I had better, therefore, take 
 my leave of you. ' Wherefore, my beloved brethren, 
 be ye steadfast, unmovable, always abounding in the 
 work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labor 
 is not in vain in the Lord.' 
 
 " f The Lord bless you, and keep you ! The Lord 
 cause His face to shine upon you, and be gracious unto 
 you! The Lord lift up the light of His countenance 
 upon you, and give you His peace ! ' " 
 
 Rowland Hill, too, was one of the great guns of dis- 
 sent in my young days ; but I only heard him once, and 
 I am almost sorry now that I saw him at all, for the 
 mere wreck of a preacher was presented to my view. 
 There he sat, (after tottering up the pulpit stairs, 
 clutching, with his bony hands, the rail, as he ascended,) 
 in a high chair for he was far too feeble to stand a 
 painful picture of drivelling senility. Yet, there was 
 some of the old fire left, and it blazed up now and then. 
 He was what people call " funny" by fits and starts, 
 and it was sickening to see broad grins on the faces of 
 people who should have known better. The good old 
 author of the "Village Dialogues" died very shortly 
 afterwards. 
 
 Once, during my youth, Edward Irving paid a flying 
 

 PEN-PICTURES. 17 
 
 visit to Bristol. That visit constituted an era in my ex- 
 istence. Again I look on that extraordinary pulpit 
 comet as it swept into my ken," blazed for a brief period 
 and departed, leaving me in a state of wondering admi- 
 ration. Once more I look on that magnificent head, 
 whose raven locks 
 
 " Streamed, like a meteor on the troubled air;" 
 
 on those remarkable eyes, whose very obliquity added 
 power to their expression ; on that figure, which in its 
 wild contortions reminded me of one " possessed.'* And 
 those solemn tones of his voice often reverberate through 
 the chambers of memory like a sound and warning of 
 doom ! Shall I ever forget that discourse of Irving's ? 
 Oration it might rather be called, but that word is, now- 
 a-days, applied to such paltry speeches, that I have 
 grown sick of using it. No one now blows his political 
 or polemical penny trumpet, without fancying that Cice- 
 ro's instrument was made for him to play upon. Ora- 
 tions, indeed ! I know not which most to be surprised 
 at, the vapid nonsense, so styled by the blustering 
 Boanerges of our time ; the matchless impudence of the 
 individuals who pour it into the public ear ; or the as- 
 tounding " swallow" of the listeners to such " sound and 
 fury signifying nothing." 
 
 So much by way of introduction ; and now let me ad- 
 dress myself more particularly to the design I have 
 formed with respect to this series of articles. And 
 here, at the very commencement of my task, an attempt 
 to portray, in pen and ink, something both of the men. 
 and the minds of persons who occupy prominent pulpit 
 2* 
 
18 PULriT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 positions, I maybe met by the inquiry "And pray, 
 by what right do you assume to yourself the office of 
 critic ? " or, " Do you think it proper or prudent to visit 
 a church for the purpose of sketching the minister?" 
 I reply that public men are public property, and 
 amenable to fair criticism ; none other shall I write. 
 I hate flippant and vulgar personalities as much as any 
 one, but I contend that I have as much right to comment 
 on a minister's style, manner, and characteristics, as he 
 has to address his observations to my heart and con- 
 science. Believing that the pulpit of a country in no 
 mean degree represents the condition of its mental and 
 moral society, may I not say a word upon it ; upon the 
 men who fill it ; upon its influence and its destinies ? I 
 shall take care to say nought that may with cause offend, 
 or hurt the feeling of any ; but at the same time I shall 
 speak candidly and truthfully, fearlessly and frankly of 
 all. 
 
 With every disposition to speak respectfully of the 
 pulpit in this age, I may say that I by no means intend 
 to distribute my praise equally over all the pulpit teach- 
 ers ; for some, indeed, I can feel but a small measure 
 of respect. The whole of the worth of the pulpit is 
 jeoparded by the conduct of men who strangely forget 
 the character of modern intelligence, and the width and 
 depth of modern information ; the supercilious sneer, the 
 currish, barking, dogmatic tone of some, is known to all 
 of us ; men there are who fancy that their being set 
 apart to a sacred office, is a diploma and warranty for 
 the treatment of all persons not in the ministry, with 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 19 
 
 dogmatism and disrespect. Then we have elegant lack- 
 adaisycalness, oh, how many a head more remarkable 
 for the hair upon it, than for the brains within it ! How 
 few have felt the glorious agonizing determination to 
 speak the words of truth to their fellow men at all haz- 
 ards. It is not too much to say that vanity, that idle- 
 ness, that the idea of a life of literary elegance, have 
 frequently more to do with the selection of the pulpit 
 for a profession, than the convictions of the littleness of 
 Time, and the vastness of Eternity ! 
 
 It has often struck me, and doubtless other persons 
 too, that congregations have distinct characteristics, as 
 well as their ministers. Audiences frequently reflect 
 the character of the preacher ; the preacher reflects his 
 audience. Therefore, shall I have something now and 
 then to say of the people who listen, as well as of the 
 persons who preach. Seated in some snug corner, 
 wrapped in my venerable claret-colored coat, I shall take 
 many a note. 
 
 " And faith ! I'll print it ; " but I will do so good- 
 humoredly at all events, so that, in case of a " find- 
 fault," even the sometimes proverbial sensitiveness of 
 the "choir" shall not be unduly irritated. Such little 
 matters as these will be mere accessories of the " Pen- 
 Pictures," which being now about to be hung in the great 
 gallery of public opinion, must patiently abide criticism, 
 and trust only to their truthfulness for commendation. 
 
20 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 PICTURE-MAKING AND WORD-SKETCHING. A LITERARY 
 PARTY. DEPARTED FRIENDS. A SLIGHT MISTAKE. THE 
 REV. MR. STOCKTON, OF PHILADELPHIA. NOTICES OF 
 WM. DAWSON AND ROBERT NEWTON. 
 
 WHENEVER that great painter, Sir Joshua Reynolds, 
 drew a portrait, it was always his endeavor to produce a 
 picture also. That is, not content with a mere likeness, 
 which would be a source of delight to those only who 
 were acquainted with the original ; he desired to pro- 
 duce a composition, which by the aid of judicious acces- 
 sories, should make it artistically as well as personally 
 valuable. 
 
 In humble imitation of so illustrious an example, 
 shall, in this series of sketches, whenever practicable, 
 introduce " accessories," in order to heighten the effect, 
 yet not so as to damage accuracy of outline or breadth 
 of touch. Nor will this be a difficult matter ; on the 
 contrary it will marvellously lighten my labor, as well as 
 constitute an improvement when it is completed ; but 
 shall not resort to the stale artistic device of inserting in 
 one corner of my canvas the fragment of a graceful 
 pillar that shows an imaginary support for the lady or 
 gentleman who never in his or her life leaned against 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 21 
 
 such an one, or of filling up the other with a glaring 
 crimson curtain, edged with bullion fringe and looped 
 with cord and tassel. My adjuncts will be copied, as 
 well as my principal subjects, " from the life," and 
 therefore it is to be hoped that a harmonious combination 
 will be the result. 
 
 During a brief residence, some ten years since, in 
 the city of Philadelphia, whilst spending and evening 
 with my accomplished friend, the late William Peter, 
 himself an elegant scholar and a profound critic, the 
 subject of clerical poetry was broached. Professor 
 Walter, who was present, (as also was John C. Neal, 
 the " Charcoal Sketcher,") contended that clergymen 
 very seldom produced poetry of a high order, and as- 
 cribed it to the cramping influence of collegiate training. 
 On the contrary, Mr. Peter urged that some of the 
 greatest poets were divines, and instanced Croly and 
 Gary, the translator of Dante. Feeling inclined to side 
 with Walter, I introduced the name of that literary 
 charlatan, the Rev. Robert Montgomery, as a set-off to 
 those who had been just mentioned by Mr. Peter. It 
 would be useless now to say aught of the good humored 
 controversy which followed, and I have only alluded to 
 it because it proved the means of my first hearing of 
 the" principal subject of the present chapter. It was 
 Neal, I believe, who asked me whether I had heard Dr. 
 Bethune preach, or had read his poems ? To both 
 preacher and poet I was a stranger, but from what was 
 said during that evening, I resolved before long to be 
 ignorant of Dr. Bethune in neither capacity. 
 
22 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 And here I may say, en passant, that of that pleasant 
 party of four, three have passed " from sunshine to the 
 sunless land." Over the grave of the quaint little 
 " Charcoal Sketcher" the grass has long waived. Wal- 
 ter, (who more resembled Charles Lamb than any man 
 I ever saw or heard of,) after a life of labor and toil, 
 but ill-rewarded I fear, " sleeps well ; " and Peter, full 
 of years and honors, broods over German mysticisms no 
 longer. But ten years and, as old Defoe has it : " only 
 I alive." Truly, as well as eloquently, did Burke write : 
 " What shadows we are, and what shadows we pur- 
 sue!" 
 
 On Sunday morning, therefore, soon after this literary 
 meeting at Mr. Peter's, I set out from my hotel for the 
 purpose of hearing Dr. Bethune. " Man proposes, but 
 God disposes," and it was fated that I should be baulked 
 in my oratorical aim for that morning, at least. Now 
 any one, who has first visited Philadelphia, must have 
 experienced, as I frequently did, the utmost difficulty in 
 steering his way through its " distractingly regular" 
 streets. Laid out, as they are in squares, the thorough- 
 fares intersecting each other at regular distances, every 
 place is so much like every other place, that it becomes 
 a matter of no small difficulty to distinguish one from 
 the other. Of course on the Sabbath day the puzzle 
 would be all the greater, inasmuch as open shops would 
 not serve as land-marks. For some time I strolled on, 
 and at last seeing a large church, which I took to be 
 Dr. Bethune's, inquired of a passer by if such were the 
 case or not. The person questioned was a Quaker. 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 23 
 
 " Straight before thee," was the reply, and following a 
 string of church-goers, like myself, in I went. 
 
 This appeal to the Quaker's topographical knowledge, 
 and the curtness of his information, reminds me of an- 
 other inquiry which I made of some members of that 
 sect. Anxious to see the grave of Benjamin Franklin, 
 I sought for the church-yard in which his remains were 
 interred. Having reason to believe that I was in its 
 neighborhood, I opened the glass door of a bookseller's 
 store, and walked in for the purpose of inquiring as to 
 the particular locality of which I was in search. In the 
 middle of the store stood three friends, who seemed to 
 suspend their conversation at my approach. They were, 
 to all appearance, the very straitest of their sect, 
 wearing drab hats, drab coats, drab vests, drab small- 
 clothes, and drab gaiters. Very lean and lank were they, 
 and each face looked as though every spark of feeling 
 and passion had been drilled out of its owner at some 
 very remote period of the past, and it was almost im- 
 possible to believe that they ever could have been boys. 
 Possibly I might, with characteristic impatience, have 
 disturbed the decorum of the store by entering too 
 hurriedly. Be that as it may, I was saluted with a 
 blank stare of mingled curiosity and wonder. Had I 
 been the ghost of the old Lightning-Compeller himself, I 
 do not think I could have been received with more frigid 
 stateliness ; nor had I suddenly burst into the burial- 
 chamber of King Cheops, and encountered the fixed 
 eyes of that mumified inhabitant of the pyramid, should 
 I have felt more chilled. 
 
24 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 " I should be obliged to you," I said, " if you would 
 inform me how I could gain admission to the church- 
 yard where Franklin lies." 
 
 Not a word was vouchsafed in reply, and there I 
 stood, whilst the three " friends" stared at me so intently 
 that I do not think there was a square inch of clothing 
 upon me which they could not have sworn I beg par- 
 don affirmed to. And for five minutes at least did I 
 endure their silent curiosity. To add to my embarrass- 
 ment, the young man behind the counter stared also, and 
 all four seemed astonished beyond measure at my pre- 
 sumption. I have since thought that my calling the 
 burial-ground a cAwcA-yard, as we are used to do in 
 England, petrified them ; but this must forever remain a 
 mystery. The upshot of it was, that after waiting hi 
 vain full five minutes for a polite reply to a polite ques- 
 tion, I turned on my heel in something like a pet, and 
 left that place of starched propriety. Since then I have 
 travelled wide and far in America, and save in this in- 
 stance I have never met with anything but the utmost 
 courtesy, even when my many inquiries might have not 
 unreasonably caused impatience, if not irritation. 
 
 Scarcely had I fairly seated myself in a pew before 
 a minister entered the pulpit, and the organist com- 
 menced the usual voluntary. Now, as the personal ap- 
 pearance of this gentleman differed widely from the ideal 
 that I had formed, from the description of my friends 
 before mentioned, of Dr. Bethune, I began to think that 
 I had unwittingly visited some other church than the 
 one I set out in quest of. And such indeed proved to 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 25 
 
 be the case. As, however, I hold it to be a monstrous 
 piece of ill-breeding, as well as a gross insult to a min- 
 ister, to say nothing of the slight to the minister's mas- 
 ter, to leave a pew, when once in it, because my taste 
 may not be exactly suited, I settled myself comfortably 
 down, and found no reason whatever to regret the error 
 which had brought me there. 
 
 A hymn was very finely sung, and then the minister 
 rose to pray. He was tall, and of a spare figure. The 
 face was long, the forehead well developed, and its sum- 
 mit began to show where the touch of Time had thinned 
 the now grizzling hair. The eyes were large, light 
 colored and very grave in their expression ; indeed they 
 conveyed their character of sedateness to the whole 
 face. The cheeks were hollow, the nose and mouth 
 large, and the chin long. A small collar was turned 
 down over a black silk neckerchief, and a suit of plainly 
 made black completed the costume. This was the Rev. 
 Mr. Stockton, the pastor of the Methodist church in 
 which I was worshipping. 
 
 The principal characteristic of Mr. Stockton's preach- 
 ing was deep solemnity. Whatever he said, came di- 
 rectly from his heart, and so commonly went straight to 
 those of his hearers. His voice was sonorous and deep, 
 and he managed its inflections with great tact. I re- 
 member that he once produced a great impression by 
 taking the Eible in his hands, after a fine apostrophe to 
 its multifarious contents, and in low, deep tones, alluding 
 to those who seldom perused its inspired pages, twice re- 
 peated the words, " Oh ! this neglected book ! Oh ! this 
 3 
 
26 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 neglected book ! " These sounds sank deep into every 
 heart at least they did into mine. Very slow in his 
 delivery, there was nevertheless more thought in one of 
 Mr. Stockton's sermons than in many another minister's 
 copious discourse. His action was subdued, but graceful. 
 There was no flash no clap-trap no straining after 
 effect. The source of his power was in his utter sim- 
 plicity and sincerity ; for he alike seemed to avoid an 
 exhibition of the learning of the schools, or the graces 
 of finished oratory. 
 
 A very striking contrast did Mr. Stockton's quiet, 
 simple preaching present, to the discourses of an eccer 
 trie English Wesley an Methodist minister, who I ha 
 heard not long before, and of whom, in accordance wit' 
 my expressed design of here and there introducing 
 notices of British Divines, I shall now give a brief 
 sketch. 
 
 The last English preacher of genuine Methodism - 
 the last who from the conference pulpit spoke in the 
 strain of the old time, was William Dawson ; or, as he 
 was familiarly termed, " Billy," or " Farmer Dawson," 
 for he ploughed as well as ^preached. He could give 
 but little spiritual aliment, but most wonderfully could 
 he rouse the slumbering convictions of the soul. Coarse 
 and intolerant, he was fitted to cleanse rocky hearts ; 
 unless we commit ourselves altogether to the superiority 
 of the system which implies the superior force of gentle 
 words, dropping like the still rain, or quiet snow, and 
 penetrating like them the most arid soils and substances. 
 Dawson truly spoke in thunder literally in thunder 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 27 
 
 the terrors of the Lord ever gleamed round the pulpit in 
 which he spoke ; he had but two words, but he uttered 
 them in a wonderful variety of cadences " Repent or 
 be Damned." His was a style strange and eccentric in 
 the highest degree ; and when he preached, strong con- 
 vulsions rocked alike the pulpit and the pew. 
 
 As a specimen of his manner, I will refer to a sermon 
 which he was fond of preaching ; it was from the text, 
 " The Lord shut him in." But first let me give the 
 reader some idea of his personal appearance. He was 
 a short, stout man, with an iron frame, and a spare, 
 massive, red, hard-featured face. No grim old puritan 
 could look grimmer than he. His head was covered 
 with an old brown "scratch" wig. On his shoulders 
 and back hung a wretchedly fitting coat of blue, with 
 brass buttons. A common farmer's vest and knee- 
 breeches, with top boots, completed his outer man ; and 
 as he walked up the chapel aisle he firmly grasped a 
 sturdy cudgel, which he would deposit at the stair-foot. 
 Nothing would be more unprofessional than his appear- 
 ance ; but that rough-looking man would attract thousands, 
 from miles around, whe^rer he preached, and none 
 went from his ministrationWmsatisfied. 
 
 After announcing the text I have named, in the pul- 
 pit, the first movement of the preacher was from it, 
 " This," he said, " wont do." He went down the pulpit 
 stairs, and standing in the large table, or class-leader's 
 pew, he supposed himself to be Noah, the pulpit to be 
 the ark which he is building, and his hearers around him 
 to be the ungodly world to which he was preaching. 
 
28 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 Meantime lie was preparing the ark, and while talking 
 he was gradually mounting step by step, the pulpit, till 
 at last he reached the door ; then slamming it to, he 
 shouted, " The Lord shut him in." And now the flood, 
 the thunder, the lightning, the fall of rocks and crags, 
 and the shrieking of perishing sinners rose around, while 
 the ark drifted safely over the billows, amidst the terrors 
 of fire and thunder and storm. As in most preachers 
 of his class, there was a rough, histrionic power ; his 
 words and his actions too were most graphic. There 
 was a strange sermon from the text, " He brought me 
 up also out of a horrible pit," etc., etc. The colloquy 
 between the preacher, and some person he supposed to 
 be beneath the pulpit, down in the miry clay, is often 
 spoken of, by those who heard it, as a singular illustra- 
 tion of his power of graphic painting, and something like 
 ventriloquial speech. 
 
 The tale is well known in Yorkshire, Dawson's native 
 county, of the pedlar, who, when Dawson was preaching 
 from the text, ." Thou art weighed in the balance and 
 art found wanting ; " pressed through the crowd, up the 
 pulpit stairs, and gave up higyaeasure. " Break it, sir," 
 said he, " break it, it was snort ; " and to his imagina- 
 tion and conscience, all the sermon seemed levelled at 
 him. My dear reader, all this may appear very coarse 
 to you ; but, in fact, is not such preaching as that of 
 Dawson's or that of Father Taylor's or Elder Knapp's, 
 sometimes useful ? Are you to scale, intellectual and 
 refined though you be, other men's requirements by 
 yours ? Forcible preaching to you may drop most life- 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 29 
 
 lessly upon other ears. I confess I should not like to 
 attend upon a ministry such as William Dawson's very 
 long, and yet I wish that there were among our country 
 preachers or ministers at large, strong, coarse, rugged, 
 pictorial souls like his, to awaken the moral Choctaws of 
 the country to some dim twinkling religious 1 , perceptions. 
 Many of my readers will remember that one of the 
 most famous Methodist preachers of the day visited 
 America a few years since. Admitting his great popu- 
 larity, I am disposed to ask whether the pulpit of 
 Methodism is at present most appropriately represented 
 in England by ROBERT NEWTON? Certainly I think 
 not, and yet his name is most attractive in all parts of 
 Great Britain ; and I have gone with thronging crowds 
 to the largest conventicles in the country to hear him. 
 I have heard him on great occasions and on small occa- 
 sions, and I cannot understand it ; there is something 
 mythical about the man ; he is the most famous preacher 
 in the world so say his admirers. I have read his 
 sermons, I have heard them delivered ; and I do not 
 remember that I have ever been benefited by a single 
 new thought, new illust^ik^ or new impulse. Once, 
 indeed, I heard him S||BRiat " prayer was like an 
 arrow, shot up to heaven ; it brought back a blessing upon 
 the quiver." The figure appeared to me not of the 
 best, but still good ; and as it was the only one, I took it 
 and was thankful. But turning over Bishop Hall's con- 
 templation six months after, I found the arrow there. 
 The only good thing I ever had from the Doctor was 
 borrowed. There is nothing ill-natured in these remarks ; 
 3* 
 
30 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 the fame of Robert Newton is extraordinary in America 
 as well as in England. I suppose, humble writer that I 
 am, I must be wrong ; two hemispheres cannot be at 
 fault, and there are men whose presence is their power. 
 Whitefield cannot be seen in his sermons, wonderful as 
 was their eflwct in delivery. We read them as among 
 the tamest^oi human compositions. Again I say I can- 
 not understand it ; thought or language I never could 
 detect; truly, truly among the hundreds of obscure 
 preachers of my acquaintance, I know very many 
 in moral structure apparently far taller than Robert 
 Newton. 
 
 But his manner, says the reader what do you think 
 of his manner ? Excellent, very ; and in some particu- 
 lars, perhaps, even graceful. No doubt in youth and 
 manhood there was a perfect and self-possessed dignity, 
 which wins wonderfully in popular estimation. No doubt 
 the tones of that voice were then thrilling and shrill, 
 and yet in wonderful combination full of compass and 
 power. I surmise all this, for I have not heard it ; but 
 a friend of mine, a clergyman from Louisiana, who 
 heard him preach in one of. tjfe, Halls of Congress, dur- 
 ing his visit to this land, declared to me that those tones 
 were so marvellous and electrical, that when the preacher 
 gave out the hymn 
 
 " Would Jesus have the sinner die ? " 
 
 he felt a tingling and creeping through the blood of his 
 whole frame ; and many of the writer's friends have 
 attested this wonderful power. If this is the case, there 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 31 
 
 is nothing marvellous in the extent of the preacher's 
 fame ; this magnetic force touches the highest point of 
 oratorical power ; but I have neither felt it nor heard it. 
 I said so once to a good friend, and he told me that my 
 heart was not in a right state ; very likely. 
 
 But where have I been rambling ? The reader must 
 pardon me for being discursive. This pen of mine is 
 addicted to a species of literary vagrancy, and^at some 
 seasons it wanders wide and far. So has it been in the 
 present instance. I set out with the full intention of 
 visiting Dr. Bethune's Dutch Reformed Church, instead 
 of which I have lingered among the followers of John 
 Wesley. Patience, however, reader, and in my next 
 chapter I promise you that I will take more heed unto 
 my thoughts, that my pen slip not from its appionted 
 subject. -,#i[<. s . 
 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 PEN-PICTURES IN PROVIDENCE. SCENES AT BROWN UNI- 
 VERSITY. PRESIDENT WAYLAND. DR. CASWELL. A 
 SCENE IN CHURCH. 
 
 MORE fortunate was I in my next attempt to reach 
 Dr. Bethune's church. What church it was I do not 
 precisely remember ; that is, the special name or number 
 
32 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 thereof. It belonged, I know, to the Dutch Eeform sec- 
 tion of worshippers. 
 
 There I frequently heard him preach then and after- 
 wards, for he was not one of those pulpit teachers 
 whom you may just listen to, and then leave without 
 feeling any more interest in them. Hundreds of such 
 are there whose words glide from the mind and memory, 
 leaving a blank behind ; or, as a very homely preacher 
 once said, " it runs off like water from a duck's back/' 
 Such men are my peculiar aversion ; and it demands the 
 utmost stretch of courtesy to sit out one of their dreamy 
 discourses. 
 
 Since my Philadelphia visit, Dr. Bethune has removed 
 to Brooklyn ; and as I wish to sketch the men of the 
 day, rather than those of ten years ago, I shall not 
 pencil Dr. Bethune as he appeared in the city of 
 brotherly love, but rather as the Brooklyn pastor. This, 
 however, will make very little difference, for I do not 
 see that either his personal appearance or his pulpit 
 efforts have undergone any material alterations. He 
 may, perhaps, exhibit a trifle more of what Leigh Hunt 
 calls " a comfortable fulness," than of yore ; but on the 
 whole, the man now is, as I said, so much like what he 
 then was, that one picture will serve to represent him at 
 both periods. 
 
 With the permission then, of the reader, I will shift 
 the scene from Philadelphia to a neighborhood nearer 
 Boston, and this because such a change will enable me 
 to introduce some of those "accessories" of which I 
 spoke in the commencement of my last chapter. Let 
 
PEN-PICTUEES. 83 
 
 the reader, then, in imagination, transport himself to 
 Rhode Island State ; for in its commercial emporium, 
 Providence, we shall have a fair opportunity of witness- 
 ing a great annual gathering of the " cloth," and 
 amongst the host of reverend visitors, Dr. Bethune 
 himself, that gentleman having engaged to deliver the 
 oration to the Phi Beta Kappa Society of Brown Uni- 
 versity. 
 
 Here we are then, in the hot city of Roger Williams, 
 his far-famed and immortal exclamation of " What 
 cheer ! " staring us in the face, it being carved in stone 
 on the front of the Exchange building. Bustling as the 
 town always is, it is unusually so to-day, and more than, 
 half the population are on wheels. Never have I seen, 
 and I have been in not a few towns and cities in my 
 time, such a host of vehicles as is exhibited daily in the 
 streets of Providence. And this speciality of the town 
 stands us just now in good stead, for as we draw up 
 panting and perspiring by the market, a friend hails us 
 from the interior of his chaise, and we are borne, noth- 
 ing loth, up one of the tremendously steep streets that 
 lead to the University. Arrived there, we leap on the 
 grass and join the crowds who are assembled in front of 
 the portico. 
 
 As yet the doors are unopened, so we shall arm-in- 
 arm with our " guide, philosopher and friend," for such 
 he indeed is, lounge about the pleasant lawn of Brown's. 
 Brown's ? not a very high sounding name is it for a seat 
 of .learning. Now there is something sonorous and 
 euphonious too in " Harvard," it has an aristocratic sort 
 
34 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 of sound, and let people say what they will, there is I 
 much in a name. Does not " Plantagenet," (noblest I 
 of appellations,) fall more imposingly on the ear than I 
 " Tims ? " Are not the diapasons of " Northumber- I 
 land," or " Washington," of a nobler tone than the 
 everlasting pitch-pipe of "Jones?" "Princeton," too, 
 sounds well, and " Yale" has a quaint, puritanish echo, | 
 that redeems it from insignificance. A wild and des- I 
 perate attempt has been made at Washington to redeem 
 the Institute there from the universalism of the tribe of 
 Smith, or Smithson ; but as in the case of some tailor- 
 disguised nobody, 
 
 You may spangle and dress up the man if you will, 
 But the stamp of the vulgar will stick to him still. 
 
 And Brown's ! what on earth is the name suggestive of 
 save of the " Smith, Brown, Jones and Robinson" story 
 that made us afraid to go a-swimming in our school-boy 
 days ? Stay we are wrong. Was there not a Sir 
 Thomas Brown, whose " Vulgar Erroures " convince us 
 of our own ? Then there was the famous John Brown, 
 of Haddington, and other Browns, spelt with a final e 
 and an u for a w, of whom doubtless our learned readers 
 wot. And here is our Brown Humphrey we believe 
 was his given name, who has immortalized his individual 
 self by his legacy to learning. Little matter is it, either 
 that "Brown University" does not sound quite so 
 grandly as Oxford, or Cambridge, or Edinburgh, or Got- 
 tingen, or Ley den, or Salamanca, or the Propaganda ; 
 it is enough that it possesses sound teachers, and that it 
 
TEN-PICTURES. 35 
 
 has sent forth able scholars, who may worthily stand 
 beside the best of those who have matriculated in the 
 halls of any of its rivals. 
 
 A great day is that of the College winding-up in the 
 city of Providence, but not so great, we are told, as it 
 was a few years ago. This was ascribed to an alteration 
 in the time of its celebration. As it is, however, an 
 unusual stir prevails. Here on the greensward are 
 groups of gentlemen engaged in exchanging greetings, 
 for many of them, old students of Brown's, have re- 
 paired hither to see old and to make new friends. A 
 practised eye can scarcely fail to detect the comers from 
 the country, by the freshness of their faces and the cut 
 of their clothes. Every other man we see is a parson 
 (we like the old fashioned epithet parson) of some 
 denomination or other. Some, of these- are so venerable 
 that the grasshopper would indeed seem to be a burden. 
 Some are middle aged, sleek and pompous; some so 
 suave and shrinking in the awful presence of the great 
 men of their sect, that they continually remind us of 
 the bashful and apologetical young divine of whom 
 Robert Hall- said he was surprised that he did not beg 
 pardon of the Almighty for being in the world. Some 
 are so very humble that we are reminded of 
 
 ' The devil's darling sin, 
 
 The pride that apes humility ; " 
 
 though we by no means desire to impute the possession 
 of that quality to any one in particular ; some, too, 
 are young, florid and foppish, and a few even juvenile, 
 
36 PULPIT PORTRAITS : OR, 
 
 clumsy and verdant. But whether young, middle 
 aged or old, they each and all have a peculiarity of 
 appearance and manner which is unmistakable. All 
 sport a " white choke," all are attired in sable, all have 
 a grave look, (excepting when some racy story or pleas- 
 ant bit of scan. mag. is being told, and then none can be 
 "jollier" than our reverend friends,) and in short, the 
 stamp Parsonic is to be seen upon the physiognomies and 
 figures of each and all. 
 
 Ten o'clock strikes, and the great hall doors are flung 
 open. With others, we enter the library, where are as- 
 sembled the " dons" of the place. And now let me re- 
 sume the familiar " I" once more. 
 
 It was no time to examine the legion of volumes that 
 surrounded me, though I longed to do so. Hurried 
 along by my guide, I reached the top of the library, 
 where stood a few gentlemen, apparently awaiting the 
 arrival of some important personage. Presently a gen- 
 tleman made his appearance from one of the side re- 
 cesses. As he came forward he drew on his robes, and 
 that operation completed he entered into desultory con- 
 versation with a few present. 
 
 " Do you know President Wayland ? " asked my 
 friend. I did not ; and he introduced me at once to the 
 head of " Brown." And never have I beheld a man 
 of a more imposing presence, or one whose appearance 
 was better calculated to inspire reverence I had al- 
 most said awe. He was in stature a little above the 
 middle height, but with that slight stoop peculiar to 
 nearly all men of studious habits the true scholar's 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 37 
 
 bend. His figure was square built and massive ; noth- 
 ing of the slenderness of the hard student was to be 
 seen in his frame, nor of the paleness of the deep 
 thinker in his swarthy face. His head was one which a 
 sculptor might have taken as a model for Jupiter ; and 
 nothing more statuesque have I ever seen than the posi- 
 tion he assumed when he bowed a recognition of me, 
 when introduced. It was the bend majestic the 
 grandest bow possible ; it made you feel that you stood 
 before one who knew his place, and meant to keep it too. 
 As he thus slightly inclined, his face was necessarily 
 brought into near neighborhood with mine, and the dark 
 piercing eyes gleaming out from beneath bushy black 
 brows, which in then* turn were surmounted by a broad 
 forehead and on whose summit was iron gray hair, al- 
 most startled me. Firm and compressed were the lips, 
 somewhat large the nasal organ. Altogether, I felt 
 convinced that the majestic bower was a man of mark, 
 and I was not mistaken. 
 
 I soon backed out of the crowd which formed around 
 the great man. Next I was introduced to Dr. Sharp, 
 whose silver hah' gleamed like a crown of honor amidst 
 the black multitude. Presently I was made acquainted 
 with Professor Caswell, whose genial face gladdened all 
 who came within the sphere of its influence. Other 
 acquaintances, too, I made that day, of which I may 
 have occasion to speak hereafter ; for the present I must 
 hasten to join the procession which is about to proceed 
 to the First Baptist Church. 
 
 A band heads it ; and to the roll of the drums, the 
 4 
 
38 PULPIT PORTRAITS : Oil, 
 
 blare of trumpets, the clang of cymbals, the reedy notes! 
 of hautboys, the liquid melody of flutes, and the grumb- 
 ling of bassoons, the grave and reverend professors 
 and their friends march churchwards. The motley pro- 
 cession 
 
 " Like a wounded snake drags its slow length along," 
 
 and at length, emerging on Main street, soon reaches 
 the gates of the First Church, -whose steeple glistens in 
 the sunlight, white as an angel's wing. Here the mem- 
 bers of it dispose themselves into two parallel lines, be- 
 tween which the Professor and the Orator march, whilst 
 hats are lifted from all heads as they pass, in token of 
 respect. Following in their wake I entered the church, 
 in which I soon secured a good place both for seeing and 
 hearing. 
 
 A beautiful interior is that of the First Baptist 
 Church in Providence. Seldom have I seen anything so 
 truly elegant. Its lofty roof, fine pillars, chastely deco- 
 rated walls, beautiful pulpit and deep galleries, all con- 
 tributed to form a splendid temple. But, dear reader, 
 imagine that, as now, the galleries are filled with ladies, 
 most of them lovely and all well dressed. Viewed from 
 my seat, the coup d'ccil was superb. From end to end 
 of those side galleries there was not a vacant spot. No 
 flower garden was ever more densely covered with 
 beauty. Below were principally sober black coats, but 
 the light gauzy dresses of the ladies, and the bright, 
 many-colored ribbons in their caps and bonnets, pleas- 
 antly relieved the dulness of the divinity color. And 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 89 
 
 these chapel-going ladies, let me assure you, reader, are 
 quite as fond of making purchases at Vanity Fair, as 
 any of their unprofessing sisters. Show me one of the 
 fair disciples even of plain John Wesley, whose eyes will 
 not glisten at sight of a " dove of a ribbon," or a " duck 
 of a bonnet," or who will conscientiously prefer a 
 " dowdy" head-covering to a smart fabric from a fash- 
 ionable bonnet-builder, and then I will believe that re- 
 ligion has a tendency to damage or destroy taste, but 
 not till then. 
 
 There is an organ in the gallery, yet to-day it is not 
 used. Instead there is a brass band present, and it 
 sounds strangely to hear " lillibullero " sort of tunes 
 from such instruments, and in such a place. However, 
 the ladies seemed specially pleased at the substitution 
 of profane polkas for pious psalm tunes, and I more 
 than once heard tiny feet tapping the time with great 
 gusto. And no great harm either. Rowland Hill in- 
 troduced song compositions into his chapel, and declared 
 that the devil ought not to have all the pretty tunes. 
 He was right. 
 
 These preliminary services have been gone through, 
 and now the orator of the day advances to the front of 
 the pulpit. In an instant a dead silence reigns, and 
 even the silks and crinoline of the ladies cease to 
 rustle. Let us too glance at the " observed of all ob- 
 
40 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE REV. DR. BETHUNE, OF BROOKLYN, N. Y. PERSONAL 
 APPEARANCE. STYLE OF ORATORY. EXTEMPORANEOUS 
 PREACHING. CROLY. DR. BETHUNE AS AN AUTHOR. 
 NOTICE OF DR. SHARP. 
 
 RISING from his seat a black covered manuscript 
 in his hands, there he stands, and so let him for a few 
 moments, whilst the reporters are sharpening their pen- 
 cils, the people settling down into their places, and his 
 sketcher " all eye, all ear." 
 
 Externally, Dr. George W. Bethune is of the portly 
 order, and in respect of adipose matter forms a very 
 striking contrast to the reverend gentleman upon whom, 
 the reader will remember, I accidentally stumbled in 
 Philadelphia. He was none of your meditative and 
 ascetic looking men, such for instance, as was in appear- 
 ance the late Moses Stuart, who, when I saw him in his 
 neat old study at Andover, looked as thin and as dry 
 as any of the "Fathers" on his shelves. No, the 
 Doctor rather reminded me of that sleek and oily gentle- 
 man, Friar Tuck, whose very name is suggestive of 
 venison pasties, and " dainty bits of warden pie." 
 Neither did he at all provoke remembrances of certain 
 hard working Curates. Far from it; he was of the 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 41 
 
 British Bisliop order that sort of bishop I mean* who 
 used to hold a fat diocese, and dispense divinity in lawn 
 sleeves. Mind, I speak only of externals, for I believe 
 that very few of the ecclesiastics to whom I refer were 
 so far as mental endowments or usefulness were con- 
 cerned, at all comparable with our orator of the Phi Beta 
 Kappa. 
 
 Dr. Bethune's face possesses a shrewd but certainly 
 not a highly intellectual expression it is too fleshy for 
 that. The forehead is broad, but not high ; and on its 
 summit the long, light colored straight hair is parted in 
 the centre and combed back behind the ears. The eyes 
 are of a grayish or blueish tint, and rather small. The 
 nose is short, and the mouth large too large indeed 
 for symmetry, and the plump cheeks are whiskerless. 
 After what was just now said, the reader will be pre- 
 pared for a double chin, a considerable amplitude of 
 waistcoat, and for a stomach like that which Shakspeare 
 described as u capon lined." Altogether, on surveying 
 the Doctor, you would at once pronounce him to be 
 u something out of the common," whilst his unaffected 
 and off-hand manner would convince you that no one 
 was farther removed from any thing like the conscious- 
 ness thereof, or of affectation of any kind, than himself. 
 
 Dr. Bethune's oratory is chaste, poetical and glowing. 
 A ripe scholar, his sermons are always models of style ; 
 and without too much elaboration they possess exquisite 
 finish. Some of his discourses remind us of a polished 
 shaft crowned with its graceful capital of carved acan- 
 thus leaves, symmetry, elegance and firmness, all com- 
 
42 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 birring to form a perfect whole. If they do not exhibit j 
 the profound thought that characterizes the sermons of a j 
 Hall or a Boardman, they exhibit the flowers of oratory in 
 all their beauty and glory. His command of language is | 
 great, he at times displays even an affluence of die- j 
 tion, and an opulence of imagery. A shrewd observer 
 of men and manners, he is fond of shooting folly as it 
 flies, and when it so pleases him he can be as sarcastic 
 ,as John Randolph, or as severe asTTns'lram Burgess. 
 The " shams" of the day are his abhorrence, and he 
 fearlessly attacks them. No man has higher respect for 
 the " powers that be," but no minister " holds his own" 
 so independently, or with more dignity sustains his 
 sacred office. His descriptive passages remind us some- 
 what of the verbal grandeurs of Croly, the author of 
 "The Angel of the World," and the Rector of St. 
 Stephen's, Walbrook, London. The last time I heard 
 that distinguished English Divine, his subject was one 
 which led him to refer incidentally to the splendors of 
 Ancient Nineveh, the city whose long buried glories 
 have since been revealed by Layard. Certainly such 
 a magnificent specimen of word-painting I never before 
 heard. Listening to him was like reading scenes from 
 his own gorgeous, eloquent " Salathiel," or perusing the 
 Apocalypse by flashes of lightning ! With a marvellous 
 pomp of language he described the glories of the now 
 ruined cities, and with amazing fluency heaped splendor 
 on splendor, until, as the eye grows dazzled by gazing 
 on the changing glories of a tropic sunset, when clouds 
 of amber and vermilion, piled on each other, assume a 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 43 
 
 thousand fantastic shapes ; so the mind became almost 
 overwhelmed by his many and superb illustrations. 
 Thus is it sometimes in the case of Dr. Bethune. Occa- 
 sionally he over-colors his pulpit pictures, so that in 
 place, as it were, of the delicious harmony of a Claude, 
 we now and then behold the extravagant gorgeousness 
 with which Turner used to cover his canvas. 
 
 Dr. Bethune well supports the dignity of the pulpit. 
 He appears to feel that it is no place for trumpery show, 
 or idle display. He commands respect as well by his 
 manner as his matter. He uses but little action, and 
 that is always graceful as graceful indeed as it can 
 be, when we remember that he confines himself to his 
 notes. Did he preach extemporaneously he would be 
 far more effective. Alas! for written discourses, 
 what they gain in correctness, they lose in warmth. 
 When will ministers fling their manuscripts away and 
 trust to the inspiration of the moment ? There is to me 
 something supremely ridiculous in a man's clutching the 
 leaves of his sermon book with one hand, for fear he 
 should lose his place, whilst with the other he is frantic- 
 ally beating empty air ! It is like a bird with a lame 
 wing, or a race horse with a fettered hoof. I question 
 whether Wesley or Whitefield would have produced a 
 tithe of the effect they did, had they read their sermons. 
 It is a pedantic, mind-cramping, inspiration- destroy ing 
 practice, and the less we have of it the better. For 
 my own part, I would rather hear the humblest preacher 
 " out of book," than the most admired minister who is 
 tied to his written lines. Some folks may sneer at my 
 
44 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 taste, perhaps let them. I do not of course advocate 
 unstudied sermons, for I take it to be an insult to any 
 congregation for a minister to go into the pulpit unpre- 
 pared. What I deprecate is, the dull, dry system of 
 reading, and often of badly reading, a coldly correct 
 composition a consequence of which is, that there is 
 seldom a spark of genuine feeling elicited from the time 
 the text is announced until a final "Amen'' closes the 
 dreary discourse. 
 
 Dr. Bethune is an author. Scattered among hymn 
 books and annuals we find some very charming verses 
 from his pen. 
 
 Beside poems, Dr. Bethune has made some valuable 
 contributions to literature, both in theological and scien- 
 tific paths. His orations and occasional discourses, 
 says one of his reviewers, show that " he is a man of 
 large and generous views, uniting to the attainments of 
 the scholar a profound knowledge of mankind. In dis- 
 courses prepared for public occasions, it is almost impos- 
 sible that allusions, more or less direct, and more or less 
 connected with the occasion to the institutions, the 
 policy, the legislation of the country, and the duties of 
 its citizens should not often occur. Dr. Bethune's 
 political philosophy is liberal and enlightened ; it is the 
 uncompromising application of Christian morality to 
 public life, and there is no nobler and truer political 
 philosophy than this. One of the most remarkable dis- 
 courses in this volume is that entitled ' The Claims of 
 our Country on its Literary Men.' We could wish that 
 it might be read attentively by all those in our country 
 
EN-PICTURES, 45 
 
 who devote themselves to letters, whether in the retire- 
 ment of our academic institutions, or in the hours 
 snatched from other pursuits. Its wise counsels are 
 expressed in a manly style, and sometimes with elo- 
 quence." 
 
 The Doctor is the author of the introduction to 
 Walton and Cotton's Angler, which is prefixed to the 
 best American edition of that charming work, and few 
 are able to "whip the water" with more success than 
 the pastor of the Dutch Reformed Church in Brooklyn. 
 In this " contemplative man's recreation," as good, 
 quaint old Izaac hath it, he is not, in my opinion, over- 
 stepping the proprieties of parson-hood, for were not 
 Peter and James and Simon fishermen ? Some caviller 
 may say, " Aye, but they were piscatorial for a living" 
 No matter, we think Dr. Bethune may preach all the 
 better for an occasional ramble by the running brooks, 
 for such souls as his can find " good in every thing." 
 Doubtless he has studied many a sermon with a rod and 
 reel in hand, and quite as useful ones as if they had 
 been painfully composed with some of the musty old 
 fathers on one side of him, and a heap of dusty Com- 
 mentators on the other. As I have intimated, Dr. 
 Bethune is the pastor of a Dutch Reformed Church, 
 in Brooklyn, N. Y. The edifice is new and handsome, 
 and the congregation rather fashionable, I believe, but 
 of such matters I know little and care less. 
 
 In my last chapter, I incidentally alluded to the Rev. 
 
46 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 Dr. Sharp, of Boston, who, I said, was one of the 
 noticeables of the throng in the library of Brown Uni- 
 versity. That revered minister of Christ is no more ; 
 and the grave at Mount Auburn has closed over all that 
 was mortal of the father of Boston ministers. I am 
 not now about to sketch this eminent and excellent man. 
 To nearly all my readers, that small, spare figure, with 
 the closely buttoned-up -coat, that head of silver white- 
 ness, that benevolent brow, those small, cleanly cut eye- 
 lids, and blueish orbs beneath, that lengthened nose, 
 that kind, flexible mouth, and indeed the whole external 
 man, must be as familiar as any thing else of yesterday. 
 Truly did Dr. Wayland say of him, on the occasion of 
 his funeral discourse, (and with the extract I will con- 
 clude this chapter) : 
 
 " There was scarcely ever a character which stood so 
 little in need of delineation, for it was broad and open 
 as the day. His intellect was clear and practical ; the 
 bias of his mind was strongly conservative ; as a 
 preacher his elocution was solemn, earnest and impres- 
 sive. Cowper's portrait of a Christian minister seemed 
 to be continually before his mind. His style was natu- 
 ral, perspicuous and forcible. He rarely failed to hold 
 to the last the fixed attention of his audience. The 
 ancients had said that the charm of oratory was in the 
 elements of the character of the orator. Most true 
 was this of Dr. Sharp. Forty years had he labored 
 here, and not a shadow of a spot had passed across his 
 character. He seemed surrounded by a moral atmos- 
 phere, which transformed the minds of other men into 
 his o\m character." 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 47 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 SABBATH MORNING. A COSMOPOLITAN CREED. REV. MR. 
 MINER'S CHURCH. PIETY AND POLITENESS. FLORAL 
 DECORATION. A SKETCH OF THE PREACHER AND THE 
 
 SERVICE. 
 
 IT is Sabbath morning. Early sunbeams are slanting 
 through the screen of flowers and foliage that adorn my 
 window, my city window, and outspread on a table 
 lie three volumes : THE BOOK, Jeremy Taylor's works, 
 and Herbert's poems. Gentle showers have fallen dur- 
 ing the night, but now 
 
 " Heaven is clear, 
 
 And all the clouds are gone 1*' 
 
 so that we may well exclaim, 
 
 " Sweet day so clear, so calm, so bright ! 
 The bridal of the earth and sky !" 
 
 A Sabbatic stillness hangs over the very streets, which is 
 only now and then broken by the sound of the " church- 
 going bell," and that harmonizes with rather than dis- 
 turbs the scene. Little children troop by toward school, 
 their " twinkling feet," making soft music as they go. 
 I am not ashamed to own that the " bonnie wee things" 
 
 - 
 
48 PULPIT PORTRAITS : OR, 
 
 are especial favorites of mine. A tiny tap of the door 
 elicits the customary " come in," and the " neat-handed 
 Phillis" of our little realm of a room, enters with the 
 claret-colored coat well brushed, and boots with " shining | 
 morning" surface. And now a visitor arrives, a friend 
 with whom we have engaged to visit some church in 
 Boston, and which of them is the most important matter 
 to be settled. 
 
 As we stroll leisurely beneath the trees of the Com- 
 mon, through the over-arching boughs of which streams 
 sunshine that paves, as it were, flickering mosaic, the 
 grass below ; and the massive grandeur of whose shade 
 relieves heaven's glare of blue overhead, my friend 
 (who, by the way, is a church-member) ingeniously tries 
 to draw me out, and satisfy himself as to my own pri- 
 vate and particular religious opinions. 
 
 So as he quietly and almost carelessly asks, " And 
 to what denomination may you yourself happen to be- 
 long?" 
 
 I stop suddenly in my walk, look him full in the face, 
 and reply, " To none." 
 
 He looks at me with surprise, and, I fancy, with dis- 
 approbation ; we silently resume our stroll. 
 
 " To all, I should rather say," I added, " for I desire 
 to survey every man's creed with respect. In my faith 
 I am thoroughly Cosmopolitan. My maxim is to pay 
 that respect to the religious notions of others, which I 
 desire they should concede to my own. I might just as 
 well quarrel with a man for having a different nose from 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 49 
 
 mine, as for his embracing opposite theological tenets. 
 Pope was not far wrong when he said, 
 
 " For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight, 
 He can't be wrong whose life is in the right." 
 
 My companion shook his head ; it was evident that he 
 did not consider Pope orthodox. I proceeded : 
 
 " Sir," I said, " there is nothing I detest so much as 
 exclusiveness in religion, or, in other words, bigotry 
 call it which you will. For my own part I could worship 
 among (though not witK) any sect " professing and call- 
 ing themselves Christians." Nay, sir, I would go far- 
 ther, I indeed have done so. I am not ashamed to con- 
 fess that I have felt devotional in a Mohammedan mosque, 
 a Jew's synagogue, a Romish cathedral, and a Quaker 
 meeting-house, (perhaps the least so in the latter.) 
 And why should it be otherwise ? To my mind, a con- 
 scientious Hindoo who believes in his shaster ; acts ac- 
 cording to the light given him ; and dies in that belief, 
 ignorant of the atonement, is as likely to be happy here- 
 after, as the bishop of this or that, who also walks up- 
 rightly in the sunshine of his own faith. There is a 
 positive and a negative unbelief, but we regard this too 
 little, and are apt to set ourselves up as models of per- 
 fection." 
 
 " But," remarked my friend, rather shocked, I fear, 
 " do you not think it advisable to identify yourself with 
 some one sect. Surely there must exist bodies of chris- 
 tians, some with whom you could feel yourself at home ; 
 
 and if you wish excitement there are " 
 
 5 
 
50 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 " Stay, stay," said I. " That is just what I do not 
 want. It is a great fault of the clay that audiences to 
 a great extent would have all their thinking done for 
 them ; or they would have the speaker to conduct them 
 through a perfect series of spasms and excitements. It 
 is the sad feature of men, in this age, that they cannot 
 endure silence, and quiet, and spiritual rest and peace : 
 the railway whistle is heard through the very temple 
 itself the shout of the engine is even in the house of 
 the Lord ! the fault is not all the pulpit's. To many, 
 even, there is no life but in storm ; they have no notion 
 of a kingdom of God coming without observation. My 
 heart has bled for many an amiable, beautiful, gentle 
 spirit, wedded to its thoughts and books, unable to cope 
 with the active energies of the times ; the prey of fero- 
 cious deacons and grumbling persons. Oh, those dea- 
 cons, those tribunes of the congregations many, many 
 instances have I known where the instructor of the 
 people has been wholly subverted by a jealous spirit, 
 a thirsting for authority, a yearning for something new." 
 
 " Are you not too severe upon the worshippers in our 
 temples ? " asked my companion. 
 
 " Not a whit," I went on to say, " not a particle. 
 The truth, indeed, is, that the worship of the Divine 
 occupies too often, even here in Boston, but a small por- 
 tion of the temple duty, (as, reader, in the course of 
 these articles I shall prove.) It is frequently a sacrifice 
 to genius, if it is there ; to eloquence, to thought, if 
 they are there; the ancient idea of the temple was 
 sacrifice to God ! Is it so ? Thus the pulpit has 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 51 
 
 changed its posture, and very vital is the change. I 
 shall not say all that I think is involved in it, but I -will 
 affirm that the pulpit never stood before in so ambiguous 
 a position. The pulpit, what is it? With Theodore 
 Parker it is a lecturer's desk ; with Archbishop Hughes 
 it is a sacrificial altar ; with some enthusiastic sectarian 
 it is the Agora of the priesthood ; with crowds it is the 
 last refuge of morbid vanity ; it has been an element 
 it is an element of modern society. What do you say it 
 is?" 
 
 But my friend had grown impatient, as perhaps the 
 reader has done, and he replied by simply pointing to 
 the clock of Pkrk street church, opposite which we had 
 arrived. I took the hint and accelerated my pace to- 
 wards School street, down which we turned and speedily 
 arrived at the Universalist church, whose new front 
 might have escaped my observation, had I not heard 
 from within the singing of children, that sweetly floated 
 on the summer calm ; and observed groups of individuals 
 gathered round the open doors, through which went 
 many a family procession to the house of prayer. 
 
 Now I have some hobbies, such as most elderly gen- 
 tlemen are generally supposed to cherish, and one of 
 them is to look upon the fair young faces of children, 
 and to hear their artless strains. Treason against taste 
 it may be considered by some, but I would rather listen 
 to a chorus of infant voices than to the trills and tra la's 
 of the most accomplished of Priina Donnas ; and as to 
 loveliness, why, not all the highly dressed ladies in the 
 " Book of Beauty," who are represented in the glories 
 
52 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 of satin and simper, can for one moment compare with 
 romping groups of little girls, whose blooming faces are 
 
 " Like any fair lake that tha breeze is upon, 
 When it breaks into dimples and laughs in the sun." 
 
 Such being my penchant, then, it will not be wondered 
 at that I followed the sound I have alluded to. Not far 
 had I to go, for just within the church doors I saw an- 
 f other door, now flung aside, and in the apartment beyond 
 beheld a Sabbath school. This, then, was the human 
 bouquet from which the incense of song had ascended, 
 and reverently taking off my hat, I passed just within 
 the entrance. 
 
 Over that portion of the school-room assigned to the 
 Superintendent, hung a large, three quarter length por- 
 trait, in a gold frame. It evidently occupied the place 
 of honor, and I endeavored to find some one who might 
 inform me who was the original of the painting. It was 
 the semblance, I was sure, of a " tabernacle," in which 
 had dwelt a beautiful and lovely spirit ; and as I looked 
 on the canvas, I fancied that the eyes beamed with af- 
 fectionate regard on the young people who thronged the 
 basement. 
 
 But the low, melodious tones of an organ in the 
 church overhead, reminded me that the service was 
 shortly to commence. So ascending the short flight of 
 stairs, I arrived at the inner doors of the School street 
 sanctuary. But before I reached the top, I became 
 aware that my progress was scrutinized by a regular 
 battery of eyes belonging to a number of young men 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 53 
 
 who leaned over the railing of the lobby. If I had 
 been a lady I might possibly have blushed at being thus 
 stared at, as some whom I noticed actually did; but 
 thank goodness, I am ntoo sensitive in this respect. 
 However, the custom is one which I think would be 
 more honoredj^ the breach than the observance, for to 
 my perhapsjntiquated notions, it is not exactly the 
 thing for a crowd of men to post themselves in a position 
 from whence they may as they lounge, criticise (some- 
 times aloud) the persons and dresses of every lady who 
 is compelled to run the gauntlet of their gaze. Beside 
 this, the conversation on such occasions (for the custom 
 is by no means peculiar to this particular place) some- 
 times smacks rather of the exchange than of the church ; 
 and it is but a few Sabbaths since that I heard a knot 
 of gentlemen in the lobby of another place of worship, 
 very glibly discussing some subject with w r hich dollars 
 would seem to have more to do than divinity, the former 
 being frequently mentioned loud enough for an uninten- 
 tional listener to hear, and the connection which proved 
 that ecclesiastical revenues were not the " cash accounts" 
 under consideration. Had I been the preacher that 
 morning, I fancy I should have put aside any other dis- 
 course which I might have prepared, and extemporized 
 one from that portion of scripture in which the " money- 
 changers" in the Temple of old are rather severely al- 
 luded to. 
 
 Now some people may indignantly toss their heads at 
 these good humored strictures, and say that it is by no 
 means an improper thing for friends to meet friends and 
 
54 
 
 form pleasant re-unions in such places. But, I ask, are 
 " friendly greetings" the only things exchanged at these 
 times ? Very different is it fi^m the rural, time-honor- 
 ed custom which obtains in cmain country communities, 
 where, before and after service, the village people linger 
 in the church-yard to greet their pasto^ps he goes to, 
 or quits 'the ancient edifice. In these simple gatherings 
 even children seek " to catch the good man's smile." 
 And then, it is a salutary thing for rustic congregations 
 to linger in the village burial ground, where lie the 
 " rude forefathers of the hamlet." In such places 
 
 " Forth issuing from the house of God, 
 
 And pausing on their homeward walk, 
 Of those who sleep beneath the sod 
 The village people talk ; 
 
 Of youth gone down ; of beauty lost ; 
 
 Of energy and strength departed ; 
 Of passion stilled ; of project crossed ; 
 
 Of mounter broken-hearted." 
 
 Very often, indeed, more powerful sermons than those 
 delivered in the pulpit are preached " to simple hearts" 
 in such places, when the minister freely mingles with his 
 flock, 
 
 " And as a bird each fond endearment tries 
 To tempt its new fledged offspring to the skies, 
 He checks each haste, reproves each dull delay, 
 Allures to brighter worlds and leads the way." 
 
 But I am growing garrulous ; so let me be silent and 
 enter the gates into this temple built with hands. 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 55 
 
 For a few moments I stood in the aisle. Some ladies, 
 strangers, like myself, waited also, until they could be 
 accommodated. Of course they were attended to first, 
 and this no one but a brute would grumble about. But 
 there did happen a trifling matter, which somewhat 
 disturbed my habitual serenity, that I shall briefly refer 
 to. 
 
 I was politely shown to a pew, in which were four 
 other gentlemen. Not long had I been seated, when 
 two ladies made their appearance, and instead of their 
 quietly sitting next the. door, they paused, and us four 
 men were compelled to walk in single file out of the 
 pew, arrange ourselves awkwardly along the aisle, to the 
 confusion of those who .wished to pass by, and then 
 follow the ladies, Indian, file fashion again, as they 
 marched at the head of our little procession. Now this 
 was all very absurd, and as a matter of homage to the 
 sex, ridiculous. It was not quite so bad, though, as 
 being turned out of a seat which I had occupied for half 
 an hour previously to service commencing, at another 
 church, a few Sabbaths since, by a gentleman who 
 roughly demanded it for a lady, which lady flounced into 
 it without the slightest recognition of the courtesy ac- 
 corded to her. Now I trust I am as polite as my 
 neighbors, and I cannot but admire the deference uni- 
 versally paid to ladies in America ; but I fancy when 
 the attentions of gentlemen are, as is often the case, re- 
 ceived with a scornful stiffness, instead of with a trifling 
 acknowledgment, that the custom stands in danger of 
 wearing threadbare. Besides, men do not like at 
 
56 -* v PULPIT PORTRAITS I OR, 
 
 least I do not being defrauded of a pleasant smile, or 
 a cheerful glance. So let the ladies look to it, if they j 
 would have the men continue to be pinks of politeness, j 
 I do not mean mere bowing, smirking and simpering 
 things, who treat women as if they were dolls, and are 
 consequently despised by them ; but men who, whilst 
 they willingly concede all that politeness demands, will 
 not yield one iota of their own proper and personal dig- 
 nity. 
 
 From the organ, as I before intimated, is pealing forth 
 a soft, low strain, fitly preluding the services which are 
 to follow. Oh ! most magnificent of musical instru- 
 ments ! to some peculiarly constituted hearts, what a 
 handmaid art thou to devotion ! How, as the soft diapa- 
 sons steal over the sense, do they, with their exquisite 
 pathos, attune the heart to love and tenderness ; and 
 how does the exultant spirit rise above time and death, 
 when jubilant anthems echo and reverberate beneath 
 fretted roofs and along pillared aisles. Stand, reader, 
 in some venerable cathedral, and while the harmonious 
 thunder rolls along, you will feel as though soaring to 
 heaven and endless life. Suddenly the music ceases ; 
 then the heart too drops ; and though all around are 
 carved monuments and sculptured brass, it perceives, 
 spite of the greatness in vaults beneath, only a prouder 
 burial ground, a place of darkness and a skull ! 
 
 The interior of the School street church is one vastly 
 to my liking. It is not so large as to distract the eye 
 by an extensive area, nor so small as to appear mean or 
 insignificant. Perhaps for the purposes of meditation, 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 57 
 
 places of worship of a moderate size are to be preferred. 
 Go to the Bodleian, or to any other great library, and, 
 surrounded by the mighty host of books, study with any 
 great advantage if you can, at all events, I never 
 could ; but, retire into a snug apartment, and there you 
 may easily concentrate your ideas. So in churches, you 
 may be more entirely devotional, I think, in the cloister 
 of a cathedral than in the vast fabric itself. 
 
 In the church I am speaking of, the usual arrange- 
 ment exists. A gallery runs round three sides of an 
 oblong, the fourth being occupied by a fine rosewood 
 pulpit, decorated with Norman arches on its front. Be- 
 hind it are two arches and an alcove painted in fresco 
 an imitation marble tablet being displayed beneath each 
 of the former, on which are respectively inscribed in 
 letters of gold 
 
 
 " GOD OUR FATHER." 
 " CHRIST OUR SAVIOUR." 
 
 Opposite the pulpit is an organ in a white, slightly orna- 
 mented case, with gilded pipes. The ceiling is neatly 
 decorated, and looks much better than some I have 
 noticed, on which designs like cart wheels enormously 
 magnified, are displayed. I can think of no more ap- 
 posite simile. The walls are tinted with a delicate hue ; 
 and thrQugh the buff- colored Venetian blinds, and dia- 
 monded ground glass panes, streams a mellow light, 
 which may be styled the " dim religious." The pews 
 are commodiously disposed,, well cushioned, and lined 
 with purple, figured stuff, that harmonizes well with 
 surrounding objects. There, reader, you have a pen and 
 
58 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 ink description of the interior of the School street church, 
 as nearly accurate, at least, as I can give it. 
 
 While the voluntary was being played, an official en- 
 tered, bearing a tastefully wrought basket filled with 
 bright flowers in his hand. This, somewhat to my sur- 
 prise, he placed on the table in front of the pulpit. 
 Presently he again made his appearance, and this time 
 with a pair of vases, also filled with flowers gracefully 
 arranged, which were placed one on either side of the 
 basket aforesaid. A third time came the flower-bearer, 
 and now the pulpit itself was adorned with buds and 
 blossoms. Happening a few minutes afterwards to turn 
 my head in the direction of the choir, I noticed that a 
 pair of vases of flowers stood in front of the organ, and 
 carrying my investigations a little farther, to my surprise 
 I beheld quite a novel and pretty arrangement, by means 
 of which every gas bracket was converted into a bouquet 
 holder. Between each pair of burners was a bunch of 
 flowers. This I confess rather puzzled me, for I had 
 never seen a Protestant church so adorned before. The 
 effect was, to me, as novel as it was beautiful. I was spec- 
 ulating as to whether floral decorations was a usual thing 
 in that church, a conjecture to which the glass bouquet 
 holders aforesaid gave some color of probability, when 
 my friend whispered in my ear, " We are close on the 
 Fourth of July ; " and so fully accounted for the presence 
 of the flowers. It did me good to see them in such a 
 place. Mrs. Hemans, I think it is, who says or sings 
 
 " Bring flowers, bright flowers, to the house of prayer, 
 They are nature's offerings ; their place is there ; " 
 
PEN-PICTUHES. 59 
 
 And she was right. What more graceful than such 
 adornments ? Some straight-laced people, to whom I 
 spoke of these flowers, condemned their appearance in 
 a house of God, and muttered something about " Popish 
 custom." Bah ! it makes one sick to hear such misera- 
 ble stuff from mortal lips. Why, I'd not only have 
 flowers, but pictures too aye, and sculpture; art, in- 
 deed, in all its diviner forms. How absurd for some 
 people to groan out, (not sing) as I have heard them, 
 
 " Religion never was designed 
 To make our pleasures less," 
 
 to the most melancholy of tunes, thus by their doleful 
 practice belying the precept on their tongues. No no. 
 The temple of the Deity should be like a certain gate 
 we read of in the New Testament, called " Beautiful," 
 and what more fitted to adorn it than the " lilies of the 
 field," or the productions of that genius which he be- 
 stows on earth's favored few ? " 
 
 The minister of the church has taken his place in the 
 pulpit, and, rising, offers up a prefatory prayer. Then 
 he selects a hymn which carries us back to our boyhood 
 days, when we used to sit in our little chair by the side 
 of its authoress, Hannah More. Many a hymn did that 
 venerable woman teach us years and years ago, and 
 pleasant are our remembrances of "Barley Wood," her 
 residence. Elsewhere have we sketched our recollec- 
 tions of Mrs. More, and so breathing a blessing on her 
 memory, we sit down. 
 
60 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 The choir is not a large one four singers only stand- 
 ing up. It is, however, very effective the ladies 
 having remarkably sweet and flexible tones, and the 
 gentlemen especially one Lablache-ish personage, with 
 curling locks possessing musical and well-trained voices. 
 The congregation stand facing the choir, but do not 
 chime in, so that the two ladies and the brace of gentle- 
 men, with the organist, monopolize the music. Some 
 other time I shall have something to say about this ex- 
 clusiveness of vocalism. At present my fast filling up 
 space warns me to curb my pen. 
 
 A chapter is next read, and the minister offers up 
 another prayer. It breathes the very air of devotion. 
 Oh! to think of the offensive addresses we sometimes 
 hear addressed to the Almighty! Some men actually 
 converse with the Deity instead of praying to him, and 
 bawl as though " the still small voice " was not as audible 
 to the Creator as the crash of echoing thunder. Here 
 there was nothing to disturb, but everything to tone the 
 mind to a devotional and holy calm. Softly as rose the 
 perfume of the flowers around, streamed upward the 
 incense of praise and prayer from that pulpit altar. A 
 sense of the awful presence in which he stood of the 
 nothingness of self of the dignity of his function, and 
 a simplicity of manner marked the efforts of the pastor, 
 and 
 
 " That holy calm within the breast, 
 A pure, sweet pledge of perfect rest," 
 
 was communicated to all who listened. Then another 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 61 
 
 hymn was sung, and the preacher arose to commence his 
 discourse. 
 
 But let me, ere I allude to his sermon, endeavor to 
 sketch the personal appearance of the reverend gentle- 
 man who is to deliver it ; though this is the less neces- 
 sary, as a very fine and faithful lithographic likeness of 
 our preacher has been published. Nevertheless, as there 
 may be many at a distance who are strangers alike to 
 both portrait and original, I will do my best to give some 
 idea of the Rev. A. A. MINER. 
 
 Mr. Miner is tall, well proportioned, and of a decided- 
 ly attractive appearance, both hi the pulpit and out of 
 it. There are some men whose countenances at once 
 enlist you in their favor, and his is one of them. Look, 
 for instance, on the serene, placid and lovely (if such 
 an expression may be applied to a man's face, and why 
 should it not be ?) countenance of Bishop Heber, and 
 doubt if you can that it belonged to a lovable and loving 
 spirit. Then again there is James Sherman, of Surrey 
 Chapel, London, whose face is the very index of benev- 
 olence and piety ; and Baptist Noel, with whose appear- 
 ance all are familiar. To a class of faces of this kind 
 belongs Mr. Miner's features. The head is finely shap- 
 ed; over the high, broad expanse of forehead is dark 
 brown hair, not in masses, but simply and unaffectedly 
 disposed, and rather revealing the fine forehead than 
 adorning or concealing it. Very gentle and soft are the 
 eyes in their expression ; they are eyes into whose 
 depths you may gaze with the certainty that they are 
 wells of thought and feeling. Aquiline is the nose 
 6 
 
62 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 something of the shape of Southey's, but not quite so 
 prominent ; indeed the mouth and the whole countenance 
 reminded us much of the Laureate, as we saw him not 
 very long before his death, at the house of his old friend, 
 Joseph Cottle, who also has just departed to join his 
 early and beloved friends, Wordsworth, Coleridge, South- 
 ey, and otheig "of lesser note." Mr. Miner's com- 
 plexion is not exactly pallid, nor of that "interesting" 
 trait termed "delicate;" it is what may, perhaps, be 
 best described by the " pale cast of thought" The cast 
 of the entire countenance is uncommonly pleasing, and 
 indicative of the fine mind which regulates its varied ex- 
 pression. When in repose, it is full of a calm dignity ; 
 but as certain sculptured urns only display the graceful 
 designs on their surface, when lighted up from within, so 
 the countenance of our preacher, when his heart is excit- 
 ed by feeling and emotion, reveals aspects unknown and 
 unseen before. And one great charm connected with 
 Mr. Miner's pulpit appearance is, the utter absence of 
 anything like affectation which characterizes him. All is 
 simple, natural, and therefore effective. The fastidious 
 Cowper might have approved of it. Of all affectations, 
 that of the pulpit is the most contemptible, and we have 
 more than once quitted in disgust churches where the 
 preacher either flourished his bordered bit of inspiration 
 lawn, as did Robert (" Satan ") Montgomery, when last 
 we heard him; or simpered out contemptible puerilities 
 to the fashionable folks, who in well cushioned, velveted 
 pews, lounged luxuriously, as they, in the words of the 
 rubric, pronounced themselves to be " miserable sinners." 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 63 
 
 Mr. Miner's style of pulpit-oratory is eminently at- 
 tractive. His voice is distinct, well modulated and 
 melodious. Accustomed as I had been of late to read 
 sermons, it was no small relief to me to discover that 
 though Mr. Miner had notes before him, he scarcely did 
 more than occasionally refer to them. To all intents and 
 purposes, his discourse was extemporaneop. And how 
 much more forcible was it on that very account. It was 
 evident that his oratory was not the result of effort, for 
 no man that I ever heard revealed more plainly than he, 
 how much more he felt and saw than he was able to 
 utter ; his eye revealed it. His sermon was illuminated 
 by its delivery. He spoke, as it seemed to me, wholly 
 without art ; he never sought to inflame or to enrapture ; 
 in speaking, in fact, he sought to do nothing, but just 
 talked on and while talking, it seemed to you as if 
 words and ideas happened to fall in that strange beauty 
 of combination, almost without volition on the part of the 
 preacher. The mention of some topics seemed instantly 
 to transport him, and doubtless he might describe with 
 enrapturing fervor the progress of a spirit through future 
 ages, in knowledge and wisdom ; he could describe a 
 cherub winged upon his mission through the infinite 
 spheres. It seemed as if figures crowded on him, and he 
 apparently felt the difficulty of selection. What can I 
 better say to describe his fluency and the felicity of his 
 illustrations, but that language flowed from his lips as 
 music flies from the string ? Sometimes his sentences 
 are laden with gold, and at others even touching in their 
 pathos. 
 
64 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 During this particular sermon, Mr. Miner paid a grace- 
 ful tribute to the memory of the late Dr. Sharp ; and 
 this struck us more forcibly inasmuch as it was tendered 
 by a minister of one of the most liberal to another of one 
 of the most particular of sects. In the course of the 
 morning too, he quoted from Bailey's " Festus," and 
 recommendec^ the young the perusal of " James Mount- 
 joy, or, I've been thinking," which ought to be a capital 
 advertisement of that tale. Sundry aphorisms, also, 
 were scattered through the discourse, such as " Toleration 
 must be intolerant to intolerance, else toleration becomes 
 intolerance." But I must forbear, and close this sketeh 
 of Mr. Miner by quoting what I once said of a " kindred 
 spirit" of the English pulpit. "Estimable and excel- 
 lent ! may he long occupy his position, a position which 
 he dignifies by Iris talents, and adorns with his virtues." 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 COPP'S HILL. MONUMENTAL MOCKERY. SALEM STREET 
 CHURCH. THE REV. EDWARD BEECHER, D. D. 
 
 LET people say what they please about the beauty of 
 cemeteries, for my part, I far prefer a stroll through the 
 avenues or irregular paths of some ancient burying 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 65 
 
 ground. Sanitory measures left out of the question, the 
 old places where the " rude fathers of the city sleep," 
 with their mouldering monuments and frail records of 
 scarcely more enduring love, the ancient places of sepul- 
 ture are superior in many respects. Here, in this old 
 city Golgotha, for instance, this " Copp's Hill," as it is 
 called, how much is there to inform and hQtr much more 
 to suggest. With the Sabbath calm over ana around, and 
 the hum of the city subdued, we wander among the an- 
 cient graves, at one moment deciphering some half-worn 
 out inscription, and in the next gazing on the grim emblems 
 of mortality which adorn (?) many a head stone. What 
 strange notions the old tombstone sculptors must have 
 had of angels, if these effigies mere heads and wings 
 embraced their conceptions of one portion of the 
 heavenly host. And yet, after all, I am not sure whether 
 I would not rather look on them, noseless and time- 
 battered as many of them are, than on the more ambi- 
 tious attempts of some of our cemetery monument makers. 
 At least, these are free from the vice of affectation, and 
 that cannot be said of not' a few of the ambitious marbles 
 of Mount Auburn. All trickeries of art are to be depre- 
 cated, but more especially those which would seek to 
 mock the decaying dust below. There are, to be sure, a 
 few appropriate emblems of modern origin. Such as a 
 broken shaft, and the like ; but these have become so 
 stereotyped, and are sometimes so inappropriate to the 
 character and circumstances of the persons they profess 
 to symbolize, that they lose all their charm. It was only 
 the other clay that I saw a fractional shaft, with a broken 
 6* 
 

 
 66 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 rose-bud on its pedestal, crowning the grave of a lady of 
 the ripe age of sixty-nine. Rather a venerable rose-bud 
 that, me thought. And then the graven and gilded trash 
 which now-a-days is displayed on tomb-stones, how unfa- 
 vorably does it compare with the simply and touching 
 tributes that we meet with in humble burying-grounds. 
 Marble gunsJfcpris " dyed in bloocT," and all the pomp 
 and circumstance of war, are not things to decorate the 
 narrow house ; neither are cables, ships firing broadsides, 
 and mutilated mariners, fitting embellishments of the last 
 home of mortality. Flowers, if 'you like, reader, " a 
 crown for the brow of the early dead," or a garland for 
 the form of reverend age, for they are themselves glorious 
 symbols of the " resurrection and the life ; " but away 
 with all the insignia of pride from that place, where, if on 
 any spot beneath the skies, humility should reign supreme. 
 So tempting had been the early morning, that I had 
 hastily quitted books and breakfast for the purpose of 
 open air meditation ; and my almost unheeded footsteps 
 had guided me, by pure chance, to Copp's Hill, a fitting 
 place for a Sabbath morning's reverie, a great open 
 book, on whose solemn pages the history of mankind was 
 legibly written, and divided into but two chapters 
 BIRTH and DEATH ! A few solitary folks, like myself, 
 were sauntering along the avenues ; several aged per- 
 sons rested on the flat stones, and now and then a little 
 child "what should it know of death?" toddled 
 among the grass and plucked wild flowers. All was 
 peaceful and serene ; but suddenly, as I lingered there, 
 the sound of a church-going bell, or rather the iron 
 

 * 
 
 PEN-PICTURES. 67 
 
 tongues of a multitude of such, rang out their harmonious 
 invitations to church ; and from one tower came floating 
 on the wind the chiming tones of the " Old Hundreth." 
 Then there was a brief pause, and another tune was 
 played on the srime bells, which agreeably varied the 
 monotonous tolling x |rom other steeples. Quitting the 
 venerable place of graves, I soon reachecLjfae settled ter- 
 mination of my tour Salem street. 
 
 SALEM ! How musical is the sound of many of the 
 Hebrew words. Take the name of the Holy City, for 
 example ; why, the melody of the syllables is perfect 
 JERUSALEM ! Can anything be more harmonious to the 
 ear than that name, when uttered by a pleasant voice ? 
 It seems to run into music of its own accord. And Sa- 
 lem ! city or abode of Peace ! the complete or per- 
 fect city, what a beautiful name for some retired 
 place, where the scream of the railway whistle has never 
 been heard. But we question the propriety of calling a 
 business street, in a great commercial city, by such an 
 appellation. From what little I know of it, I should say 
 that it was anything but a " place of peace." Like the 
 other Salem, it has towers, but they are by no means 
 " shining ;" and as for " golden glories," there be none. 
 The only " golden" objects that I could discern were 
 certain balls which here and there decorated the shops 
 of pawn-brokers, who display pretty profusely the arms of 
 the old Lombards in this particular locality. 
 
 Following the stream of humanity which is flowing 
 along the rather narrow sidewalks, I came to Salem 
 street church, of which the Rev. Edward Beecher is pas- 
 
68 PULPIT PORTRAITS : OR, 
 
 tor. Like his venerable father, the well known pioneer 
 of the temperance cause, he is a Doctor of Divinity ; 
 it need scarcely be added that he is the brother of Mrs. 
 Harriet Beecher Stowe, and that he belongs to a family 
 of clergymen. " A Beecher," and " a minister," are 
 almost synonymous terms ; so much so that should we in 
 our wandering^behold a sign-board on which is inscribed 
 " Beecher, Grocer," or " Beecher, Apothecary," we may 
 rub our eyes under the impression that our optics deceive 
 us, and that the eternal " fitness of things" is, after all, 
 a fiction. 
 
 A very interesting article might be written, and may 
 have been, for ought I know, on the BEECHER family 
 certainly one of the most remarkable household groups, 
 even in these United States, where whole families of ce- 
 lebrities, such as the " Hutchinson family," and others, 
 are by no means uncommon. In other parts of the 
 world, extraordinary talent commonly characterizes but 
 one member of the domestic community, for one wise 
 son there are usually half a dozen blockheads ; but the 
 New World has, among its other novelties, regular 
 " hives " of smart boys and girls. The boy Jabez, with 
 his jack-knife, whittles his way into celebrity with a doz- 
 en of the family at his heels, not as in poor Old Eng- 
 land, where one favored child commonly flings all the rest 
 into the shade. Verily, this is a great country, and con- 
 spicuous among its great guns is,- as I have intimated, 
 the Beecher family. Of its distinguished trunk, and of 
 its New York branch, I may have occasion hereafter 
 to speak, therefore I shall not diverge for the purpose of 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 69 
 
 more directly alluding to them in this place ; so let the 
 reader accompany me as I enter Salem street church. 
 
 The edifice is situated at the corner of Salem and 
 North Bennett streets, and is built of brick. It has a 
 swelled front, and is surmounted by a turret, which, ar- 
 chitecturally regarded, is much too heavy. It has, on 
 the whole, a sombre appearance, and pres^pts a striking 
 contrast to some of the exceedingly neat ecclesiastical 
 structures that are to be seen in various other parts of 
 the city. Four pastors have occupied its pulpit, viz : 
 Rev. Justin Edwards, D. D. ; Rev. George Blagden, 
 D. D. ; Rev. Joshua H. Towne ; which latter divine 
 was succeeded on the 13th of March, 1844, by the pres- 
 ent pastor, Dr. Edward Beecher. 
 
 But there goes the present minister down the aisle ; 
 and as he takes his seat in the sacred desk, carelessly 
 wiping his palms with his handkerchief, which handker- 
 chief is afterwards passed over the high and shining 
 forehead, the organ peals forth a voluntary. 
 
 It is seldom enough that I pay compliments, especially 
 to performers of music ; for it has become so much a mat- 
 ter of course to exalt to the seventh heaven of excellence 
 every one who decently draws a bow, or touches a key, 
 that persons of undoubted genius are naturally apt to de- 
 spise the approbation that is awarded with so little dis- 
 crimination. Nevertheles, I feel desirous of rendering 
 my tribute of praise to the organist of Salem street chap- 
 el, who is a fine performer on his noble instrument. 
 Perhaps this compliment (if such it be) may lose none 
 of its value, when I add, that, though I have listened to 
 
70 PULPIT PORTRAITS? OR, 
 
 the marvellous extemporaneous efforts of the late Felix 
 Mendelssholn Bartholdy, and to the wonderful execution 
 and almost inspiration of the finest of living organists, 
 Dr. Charles Wesley, yet the playing of the organist at 
 Dr. Beecher's church suggested no " odious " compari- 
 sons. What the gentleman's name may be I know not, 
 but whoever he is, he might acquit himself creditably as 
 organist of any cathedral in Christendom. 
 
 Had I not been aware of the name of the preacher, I 
 should, I think, have at once recognized the Beecher 
 face ; the mouth, especially, being extremely character- 
 istic of the tribe to which it belongs. Dr. Edward 
 Beecher has a fine Wordsworthian sort of head ; a high 
 forehead, broadest at its upper portion, and partially bald 
 on the summit. The crown of the head, too, is thinned of 
 its hair. The locks that yet remain are crisp and curl- 
 ing, and are, as Southey said of his own, 
 
 ** half way 
 
 On the road from grizzle to gray." 
 
 Below the expansive forehead are a pair of large, liquid, 
 bluish gray eyes, calm in their repose, yet with a lurk- 
 ing humor playing among their coats and lenses that 
 does not destroy their seriousness. The nose is large 
 and well chiselled ; the mouth a trifle too large for sym- 
 metry. As for the general appearance of our preacher, 
 it is merely necessary to remark that there is a sort of 
 free-and-easy-ness about both dress and manners which 
 sufficiently indicate that he scorns anything like ministe- 
 rial foppery. In this respect, he somewhat reminded us 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 71 
 
 of another great thinker (for, reader, we may at once 
 say that Dr. Edward Beecher is a great thinker) 
 John Foster, though the Boston minister does not carry 
 his disregard of conventionalities to quite so great an 
 extent as did the Essayist of Bristol. Neither of them, 
 however, could have belonged to a race of men and 
 such there are who fancy that their piety is in pro- 
 portion to their dirt.. Many of our students and others 
 have a trick of abstraction and vacancy ; we sometimes 
 meet with interesting greenhorn youths, with a sleek, 
 footman-looking, whitey-brown appearance about them ; 
 I moral mulattoes, determined to impress you with the idea 
 of their profound obliviousness to all around them, while 
 you, unfortunately, found them oblivious only of their 
 | own vanity. Of such creatures we think not, when we 
 | refer to those who are not ambitious of always looking as 
 : though they had just come out of a band-box. 
 
 To return to Foster, of whom we said Dr. Edward 
 Beecher somewhat reminded us, in this matter of eti- 
 : quette. Our present subject, however, would never walk 
 1 four miles, as we have known " glorious John " do, in a 
 gray old ink- stained study-gown, and trudge up into the 
 pulpit of a crowded chapel in ignorance of his condition 
 and dress. It may be that such entire abstraction is not 
 desirable. In manner, a very great difference exists (or 
 existed for the one part) between these two men. Foster 
 had a careless, slouching gait ; Beecher has quite a non- 
 chalantic air. Foster in his abstraction was utterly re- 
 gardless of life ; he seemed sometimes to cut the last 
 mooring, and sail away through the pure seas of thought. 
 
72 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 Beecher, we dare say, never does this ; his abstraction 
 is seldom entire. Look at the shock head of Foster ; a 
 tangled mass of hair, combed into propriety with brambles 
 very different to the fine, open brow of Beecher, sur- 
 rounded with short, iron gray locks ; yet both heads are 
 the heads of profound men ; indeed, of philosophers. 
 
 Two things give currency to the fame of a popular or- 
 ator ; either the possession of a mannerism, an idiosyn- 
 crasy of appearance, voice, gesture, stamping that man 
 in his talking as one altogether unlike any other, or the 
 utterance of words altogether beyond count, compared 
 with the number of ideas. Now Dr. Beecher professes 
 neither of these fortunate peculiarities ; he has his man- 
 ner, but is neither gaudy, nor meretricious, nor noisy, nor 
 eccentric. His voice does sometimes rise, and the author 
 of " Crayon Sketches," in his notice of him, says : " He 
 often seems to attempt to work up his feelings to a pitch 
 of intense excitement. Under such circumstances, there 
 will be noise without eloquence, extreme gesture without 
 extreme unction. In that way he exchanges the sublime 
 for the sledge hammer style." It has not fallen to my 
 lot to witness such Boanergic efforts ; but it would be 
 strange, indeed, if in a Beecher there was not occasional 
 outbursts. 
 
 Dr. Beecher is seldom wordy ; not often is it that he 
 uses a word too much; you seldom feel that another 
 word could have better served the purpose of that one, 
 never , unless the speaker has been hurried along, as he 
 sometimes is, by a more impulsive and impetuous motion 
 than that which characterizes his ordinary style. Of few 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 73 
 
 preachers may it be more emphatically said, that words 
 represent things ; and therefore, those who want mere 
 words can never feel much satisfaction in attending Salem 
 street church ; but those to whom words are the sheath- 
 ing of ideas the shell which must be cracked to dis- 
 close the kernel will find, perhaps, every sermon weal- 
 thy ; suggestive in the highest degree. The work is not 
 all done for you when the sermon is over ; you may beat 
 out from the " nuggets" of the shining ore, thoughts for 
 a lifetime. 
 
 Dr. Edward Beecher does not confine himself closely 
 to his notes. Occasionally with one hand buried in 
 the folds of his vest, he extemporizes fluently, and then 
 we like him best. Untrammelled by the written page, his 
 thoughts take a bolder and a wider flight ; and then it is 
 remarkable to notice how his eyes kindle, and his face 
 becomes the index of his mind. From his discourses a 
 volume of pithy sayings might be selected, such as " His- 
 tory is the judgment seat of the world," and the like. 
 The series of lectures on Church History, which he is 
 now delivering on Sabbath mornings, are unique, and 
 supply a blank which has long existed, for hitherto we 
 have failed to recognize the importance of a general and 
 popular history of the church. Truly did the preacher 
 say in his opening lecture, that it is the central and most 
 important subject of God's Book of Providence. 
 
 We believe it is universally admitted that Dr. Edward 
 Beecher ranks among the most profound divines of the 
 day. His opinions, in all matters connected with his sa- 
 cred office, possess great weight with his ministerial 
 7 
 
74 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 brethren as well as with the laity, and if he is not so 
 popular with the multitude as his brother Henry, his 
 reputation rests perhaps on a more durable foundation. 
 He is one of the editors of The Congregationalist, a 
 first class religious newspaper, to whose columns he fre- 
 quently contributes articles pregnant with power. In 
 common with his family he is a stout advocate of the 
 Temperance cause. At one time he was, I believe, 
 President of a western College. At present he un- 
 doubtedly stands in the first rank of American preachers 
 and theologians. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 BROOKLYN, ANCIENT AND MODERN. ITS CHURCHES. A 
 WORD OR TWO ON CHURCH ARCHITECTURE AS IT IS 
 AND AS IT SHOULD BE. DR. COX ? S CHURCH. SKETCH 
 OF THE PREACHER. HIS STYLE. HIS DEFEAT OF THE 
 MORMONS. ANECDOTE OF WM. JAY. 
 
 A PLEASANT place is the suburban city of Brooklyn, 
 with its tree-bordered streets, its spacious avenues, its 
 "Heights" commanding a charming prospect of river, 
 bay, and the countless host of buildings in the great 
 mart opposite. Pleasant, too, is the quiet which reigns 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 75 
 
 within its borders ; doubly so,- from the contrast which 
 the saunterer in streets, named after " willow," or 
 " chestnut," finds after the brief ferry- voyage from the 
 noisy thoroughfares of New York. Indeed some por- 
 tions of Brooklyn remain to this day almost as still as 
 they were in the days when Sarah Rapelye, the first 
 white child, was born on Long Island, some two hundred 
 and twenty-eight years ago. But how changed, taken 
 altogether, is the scene ! A writer in Harper's Magazine, 
 speaking of the growth of this city, says : " The hills 
 around were called BreucTden (broken land) by the 
 Dutch, and the orthoepy has but little changed, now that 
 a beautiful city covers their slopes and crowns their sum- 
 mits, and the Dutch language is no more heard." 
 
 Perhaps there is no feature of this charming city 
 which so forcibly strikes a stranger, as the multitude of 
 churches that are here to be met with. Scarcely a 
 street is there in which you may not find at least one. 
 Sometimes three or four cluster together, and, seen from 
 a little distance, spires and towers appear almost as 
 numerous as the dwelling houses. " The City of 
 Churches" it has well been named, but it is only of late 
 years that it has attained to such ecclesiastical dignity. 
 In the year 1811, Brooklyn contained but three churches, 
 the worshippers in which were chiefly from the adjacent 
 farms. In the Brooklyn of eighteen hundred and fifty- 
 three, there is scarcely a religious sect (and their name 
 is legion) which has not there its own particular place of 
 worship. 
 
 Many of these are very beautiful. It is, however, a 
 
70 
 
 great pity that church architects in this country do not 
 study a little more profoundly the principles of their art. 
 It would be extremely difficult, I fancy, for any one, 
 even though he were as well skilled in such matters as 
 the late Welby Pugin, or Mr. Ruskin, the gifted author 
 of the " Seven Lamps of Architecture," to refer some 
 of these Brooklyn churches to any known order of arch- 
 itecture. 
 
 The Tuscan Doric Ionic, Corinthian, and Composite, 
 are so inextricably blended with the Gothic, Saracenic, 
 Moorish, Mediaeval, Grecian, and I know not how many 
 more styles, that a complete brick and mortar or sand- 
 stone olla podrida is the result. I have seen a Gothic 
 door, a Norman window, Corinthian pillars and portico, 
 and Doric pilasters, all mixed up in the same structure ! 
 And then the monstrous turrets, or towers, and steeples 
 which stand glittering in the sun wretched monuments 
 of the bad taste, or rather lack of it, in the persons who 
 designed them. Luckily, a better time seems to be at 
 hand, for here and there we see indications of the striv- 
 ing after a purity and unity of style which shows that 
 much as the public taste has been vitiated, it is not alto- 
 gether destroyed. 
 
 The church in which Dr. Cox officiates exhibits much 
 of this decided improvement. It is situated in one of 
 the chief streets of the city Henry street, if my 
 memory serves me rightly, and high above the houses 
 around soars its brown tower. It is in the Gothic style, 
 which, few will doubt, is that most fitted for ecclesias- 
 tical edifices. And one great advantage over all other 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 77 
 
 styles it has, namely, that it is as well suited to a church 
 of small dimensions as to a mighty cathedral. Seldom, 
 however, except in the architecture of the middle ages, 
 do we meet with pure specimens of it; for in most 
 modern erections, the florid, middle-age, and the simple 
 Gothic are generally blended, or rather jumbled. In the 
 particular church now under consideration, the "florid" 
 predominates to a fault, so that what is gained in polish 
 and elaborate carving, is lost in force. The severity of 
 simplicity is entirely destroyed by too great a profusion 
 of corbel, bracket and mullion. 
 
 But the greatest fault in American Gothic churches is 
 to be found in their painted windows. These, in most 
 instances, are, as works of art, ridiculous, and as orna- 
 ments, singularly inappropriate. Instead of the judi- 
 cious arrangement of color, so that a soft and chastened 
 tone may be produced, how often does it happen that we 
 see great flaring, vulgar shawl-patterns on the windows. 
 Painted windows, indeed ? why, they bear about the 
 same relation to the artistic glories of some old Europe- 
 an windows, that a flaunting and rouged female does to 
 a rosy and unsophisticated belle of the village. The 
 secret is, there is too much of a love for the showy 
 the mere gaudy, and until that penchant for glitter and 
 gaud is banished, there will not be any reform in this 
 matter nay, though there should be a Chrystal Palace 
 in every city with its imported splendors to rebuke it. 
 
 But here I am within Dr. Cox's church ; not seated, 
 though, but standing humbly in the aisle awaiting the 
 stranger's turn. And long enough I wait, too, though 
 7* 
 
78 PULPIT PORTRAITS: on, 
 
 I perceive many a vacant seat. However, a friendly 
 eye at last beholds me, and quickly am I comfortably 
 placed. 
 
 The church is judiciously lighted, not too much 
 glare, but a soft, " dim religious light" hangs over and 
 around every object. The pews, doors, etc., are either 
 of some dark wood, or well painted in imitation thereof. 
 The pulpit is extremely handsome, being most elaborately 
 carved and quite novel in its form, partaking somewhat 
 of the "screen" shape. Every aisle was carpeted, 
 every pew comfortably cushioned ; and as I sat I could 
 not but think how different it was with the Pilgrim Fa- 
 thers, when, years and years ago, on the " wild New 
 England shore," they first worshipped God amid the 
 perils of the unknown wilderness. Whether modern ac- 
 commodations go hand in hand with a greater profusion 
 of piety, is a question I cannot answer. Two young 
 gentlemen who were reading that morning's edition of 
 the Herald, and conversing loud enough for me to hear 
 them two seats off, seemed to imply that the moderns are 
 not quite so strict in their church etiquette as were the 
 gray old gentlemen just referred to. I should like to 
 know how they would have served a young fellow who 
 was discovered whilst reading anything besides a Bible 
 or a Psalm-Book during " meeting" time. 
 
 After the usual preliminary services singing, read- 
 ing, and prayer, the minister of the place advanced to 
 the front of his highly ornamented pulpit. He certainly, 
 in his plain dress and primitive appearance, afforded a 
 strong contrast to its Gothic adornments. Dr. Cox is, 
 
TEN-PICTURES. 79 
 
 Zaccheus-like, of low stature, about the height, in fact, 
 of the late Dr. Sharp, and, like that departed worthy, 
 he holds a very prominent position in the Christian 
 church. His form is, however, more fully developed, 
 though it cannot be called " fleshy," than that of the 
 Boston divine. The head and face are full of " charac- 
 ter," as portrait painters have it. From the former 
 stream down over the collar of the coat silver locks, 
 which impart a most venerable air to the aspect of the 
 preacher. The forehead is good, the eyes brilliant and 
 piercing extraordinarily so in so old a man ; for time, 
 though he has relentlessly stamped the marks of the 
 "crow's feet" at their outer angles, has spared their 
 lustre. The nose is small ; the mouth, thin-lipped, com- 
 pressed, with a drag downward at its angles, and the 
 chin small and somewhat projecting. You could not 
 look on that face without feeling sure that it belonged to 
 a man of vigorous mind ; nor phrenologically survey that 
 head without being convinced that it was on the shoul- 
 ders of a person who had a will of his own, and chose to 
 do pretty much as he liked. It reminded me somewhat 
 of the cranium of the late John Quincy Adams, and I 
 believe that that revered politician very much relished, 
 as do many more of us, to have his own way. 
 
 I had fully expected from Dr. Cox's staid and sedate 
 appearance, that I should hear one of those old-school 
 sort of sermons which seem to be so much in character 
 with a long career and gray hairs. But I was mistaken. 
 Scarcely had the reverend gentleman read his text than 
 he flew off at a tangent into a field of thought which I 
 
80 PULPIT PORTRAITS : OR, 
 
 should never have dreamed would have been suggested 
 thereby ; and during the whole discourse he never once 
 referred to it. So far as a text went, any other passage 
 picked at random from Genesis to Revelation would 
 have passed muster just as well. But as the preacher 
 proceeded, it was evident that he had within his fertile 
 brain a large fund of original thought, a vast amount of 
 shrewdness, and ample store of good solid learning ; 
 not your modern, flashy scholarship, your spurious men- . 
 tal coinage ; but genuine gold, the scuff which rings as 
 well as shines, and passes current anywhere. You could 
 see, plainly enough, that no shallow thinker stood before 
 you, but one who had gone down deep into the mines of 
 truth, and had dug out rich ore from thence. 1 toe 
 was a dignity, too, in his style ; he spake as one having 
 authority, and he bound up his beauties within small 
 sententious circles. Occasionally he flung out a sly 
 sarcasm, or heaped ridicule on some dogma, or disposed 
 with a back-handed logical blow of some error, but al- 
 ways with an air of calmness that added weight to what 
 he uttered. Like William Jay, of Bath, he now and 
 then said things which made one smile, but there was no 
 buffoonery, no low humor ; he evidently felt that the 
 pulpit was no place for a jest, the church no tilting ground 
 for wit. 
 
 Occasionally Dr. Cox utters some very pithy sayings ; 
 he has the happy faculty of giving to commonplace ideas 
 an attractiveness, by clothing them in quaint language. 
 He is fond, also, of odd analogies; for instance, speak- 
 ing of persons who profess to do a vast deal for religion 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 81 
 
 without really possessing any, he said that some resembled 
 Noah's carpenters, who built a ship in which other people 
 were saved, although they were drowned themselves. 
 Many illustrations of this faculty might be adduced, but 
 space forbids me to pen them in this place. 
 
 Dr. Cox is a preacher, sui generis, "none but 
 himself can be his parallel." No one ventures to imitate 
 him, and he is above copying from any model whatever. 
 As to style, properly speaking, he has none ; or if he 
 has, it is one manufactured by himself, and is not, as a 
 whole, referrable to any known order of eloquence. 
 Sometimes he displays quite a Mosaic effect, a dash of 
 Demosthenes, a clipping from Cicero, a piece of Pindar, 
 some of Paul's energy, St. John's warmth, Peter's en- 
 thusiasm, with none of Thomas's hesitation. All of 
 these now and then combine to make up discourses that 
 are perfectly unique. But the reader who desires to 
 form any accurate idea of Dr. Cox, should go and hear 
 him for him or herself. In the pulpit he is eminent, and 
 as a platform speaker few are more efficient, and it may 
 be added, useful. 
 
 We have already noticed some eccentricities of Dr. 
 Cox. He has recently published a somewhat eccentric 
 book, in which he gives accounts of "interviews" be- 
 tween himself and various individuals, Infidels, fash- 
 ionable ladies, and the like. Among other notables, he 
 encounters a brace of Mormon Prophets, his account of 
 which being very characteristic of our subject, I quote, 
 and with it conclude this sketch. 
 
82 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR. 
 
 One hot Sabbath, just as services were about to com- 
 mence, the Doctor was accosted by a couple of indi- 
 viduals, who addressed him as " Brother Cox, a man of 
 God, a friend of truth, a lover of righteousness, and a 
 preacher of the Gospel." They wished an opportunity 
 to hold some conversation with him, and were directed 
 to call at his study at the close of the services. At the 
 time appointed they made their appearance, and an- 
 nounced themselves as " Latter Day Saints," sent on a 
 special mission to the Doctor to announce to him that he 
 was to be converted and rise to great eminence among 
 the chosen people. The Doctor, very naturally, wanted 
 something in the shape of a miracle as a credential. 
 These they professed to be able to work, and to have 
 worked, but declined repeating the performance just 
 then. The Doctor suggested that at least they might 
 read and construe a verse or two of the Greek Testa- 
 ment. This met with no more favor from the new 
 Apostles, who began to mutter something about " an 
 adulterous generation seeking for a sign," and to im- 
 press upon him the necessity of faith. Whereupon the 
 dialogue took a somewhat spicy turn. I take the liberty 
 of condensing it somewhat, but preserve the main points. 
 It will be borne in mind that figure 1 represents the 
 Doctor, and 2 and 3 his opponents : 
 
 " 1. I shall not stir another step in this business till I 
 see the evidence on which you rely, as self-vaunted en- 
 voys extraordinary, and ministers plenipotentiary from 
 the court of the King of kings, to sustain your apostol- 
 
TEN-PICTURES. 83 
 
 icity and vindicate your claims. Here then, I take my 
 stand, and call for evidence, for proof. How am I to 
 know, gentlemen, that you are not impostors ? 
 
 " 3. You had better take care, Sir, what you say. 
 The evidence may come sooner than you desire, and as 
 you do not expect, and what you will not relish, sure 
 enough ! I would just warn you to beware ! 
 
 " 1. You mean that the evidence may surprise me, 
 coming in the way and style of some divine judgment ? 
 
 "3. Yes, Sir, I do ; and I hereby warn you against 
 it. 
 
 "2. Oh! if it should come now, what would be- 
 come 
 
 " 1. Very well, gentlemen, I am ready, and quite 
 content. Send a good rousing judgment along a little 
 touch of earthquake, some thunder and lightning, cholera 
 morbus, palsy, volcano, avalanche, nightmare, gout, ship 
 fever, neuralgia, or anything else you please ; yes, little 
 or much of it, gentlemen, and the sooner the better, as 
 I am ready, if you are, and quite disposed to be accom- 
 modating. 
 
 " 3. Sir, are you forgetting yourself all the time ? 
 
 " 1. Not at all ; I am only remembering you. Let us 
 have some of the evidence. Come ! your testimonials, 
 your seals, your signs, gentlemen ! 
 
 " 2. Why, I never saw or heard such a man as you ! 
 
 " 1. Nor I ever read or conceived before of such men 
 or such apostles exactly, as you are. 
 
 " 2. I fear you are a hardened old 
 
 " 3. Yes, and blinded, too, with darkness. 
 
84 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 "1. Why, surely there seems to be considerable 
 darkness in niy study more than common this after- 
 noon ; arid I wish there was more air, since light seems 
 so scarce and heat so oppressive in it. 
 
 " 3. Sir, to tell you plainly, you are a hardened man 
 and a hypocrite, given up, reprobate. 
 
 " 2. Oh, how dark, dark, dark you are ! 
 
 "3. Yes, you are a hypocrite, a liar, Sir; and I 
 know 
 
 " 1. Stay just a moment. Pray, be quite calm. I 
 can refute all that instantly on the authority of two 
 apostles. Instead of liar, hypocrite, reprobate, I am, 
 you remember, " Brother Cox, a man of God, a friend 
 of truth, a lover of. righteousness, and a preacher of the 
 Gospel." This is a great honor, quite a high and memo- 
 rable endorsement. It is, at least, the exalted character 
 I had a few hours since. If I have it not yet, but have 
 grown so bad at once, as you now denounce me, it must 
 be because I have been sometime in your company. 
 
 " 2. Sir, I have no respect or care for you. 
 
 " 1. Queer apostles these, to be so mistaken in their 
 inspiration, for once ! 
 
 " 3. Yes, Sir ; hypocrite, hardened 
 
 " 1. Silence, gentlemen. You are now going rather 
 too far. There seems no immediate prospect of my be- 
 coming a latter-day saint, you perceive. It is the 
 
 Lord's day, and I wish not to break it I have done ! 
 
 You need make no reply. Now, I have only two more 
 things to say ; the first, this is my study ; the second, 
 there is the door ; make rectilinears in quick time, and 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 85 
 
 leave the premises immediately. I am not your brother 
 or your dupe. 
 
 " With this, I rose and opened the door, pointed them 
 out, cleared the way for them, and have never heard 
 from them since. They went down the stairs and dis- 
 appeared as directed, uttering many and various denun- 
 ciations and inspired predictions, for which God, who 
 hates imposture more than any of us, will call them to 
 account, when their true character shall be displayed to 
 the universe." 
 
 This interview reminds me of one which occurred be- 
 tween the Kev. William Jay, to whom I have before re- 
 ferred, and a gentleman who toot it upon him to con- 
 vert the venerable Bath minister from the " error of his 
 ways." 
 
 Some years since, when the followers of Edward 
 Irving were in the very height of their enthusiasm or 
 rather, madness ; a church was formed at Bristol, and 
 great exertions were made by its members to convert to 
 the " true faith" the ministers of that and some neigh- 
 boring cities and towns. So popular and influential a 
 man as William Jay could not be overlooked by them, 
 and measures were accordingly taken to insure his coali- 
 tion with the new lights. 
 
 To promote this desirable end, one Mr. Curtis, a good, 
 easy but weak man, who had been ordained one of the 
 "Angels" of the Bristol Irvingite church, proceeded to 
 Bath, and called on the celebrated minister, who court- 
 eously received him, and inquired respecting his busi- 
 ness. Mr. Curtis informed him, in reply, that he was 
 8 
 
86 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 Angel from the Irvingite church at Bristol, and that his 
 " mission " was to induce Mr. Jay to join them and be 
 saved. 
 
 " An Angel eh ? " asked Mr. Jay in astonishment, 
 for it is not likely that he thought, like one of old, he 
 should entertain a visitant from the skies. 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Curtis, " an angel. Sir ; an angel in 
 deed and in truth." 
 
 Mr. Jay did not smile visibly, but gravely requested 
 Mr. Curtis to take off his coa't, which the gentleman, 
 after some hesitation, did. Divested of this outer gar- 
 ment, Mr. Curtis felt Mr. Jay's hands busy about his 
 shoulder blades "Pray, what are you doing, Sir?" 
 he at last asked. 
 
 " Feeling for your wings," was the reply ; at which 
 the angel grew so wroth, that, hurrying on his coat, he 
 darted down stairs and quitted the house, in order to re- 
 turn and narrate the want of faith in Mr. Jay, to his 
 redulous brethren and sisters at Bristol. 
 
 Since writing the above sketch the following " hit " at 
 Dr. Cox met my eye in a New York paper : 
 
 MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. It is the " cue " of 
 some folks to be elaborate and verbose in small matters, 
 and so it is with our Christian brother, the Rev. Dr. Cox, 
 of Brooklyn. Ask him to dinner, and he will answer 
 you with an epic. Solicit his presence on any public 
 occasion, and he will overwhelm you with Latin, Greek, 
 and English with the syntax inverted, mixed up together 
 in inextricable confusion. There is one characteristic of 
 the doctor's style which sticks out in all the efforts of his 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 87 
 
 pen. We mean his egotism. This characteristic is par- 
 ticularly conspicuous in his published answer to a private 
 card from the directors of the Crystal Palace Associa- 
 tion, inviting him to be present at the inaugural cere- 
 monies. 
 
 Most people would have replied to the invitation in six 
 lines ; but the Reverend Samuel Hanson Cox, D. D. 3 occu- 
 pies nearly half a column in declining, gracing his missive 
 with five lines from Virgil, or, what the reverend gentle- 
 man calls him, " the Mantuan bard," and enlivening it with 
 his own amplification of the same, in the vulgar tongue, 
 extending to the length of twenty lines. Having deliv- 
 ered himself of this paraphrase, which does more credit 
 to his piety than his poetic talent, he winds up with the 
 following mixture of compliments and prayers, which is 
 well enough in its way, but sounds odd as a response to 
 a common-place note of invitation : 
 
 "Please, sir, Appreciate this votive venture; truly 
 neither premeditated, nor transcribed ; and expanding 
 as my feelings move the pen that wrote it ; and yet, though 
 long, I feel it right to mention that mine is the greatest 
 loss, that, on such an occasion of signal occurrence, I 
 may not enjoy with you, and welcome to this London of 
 our country, our nation's honored chief and head, with 
 his faithful counsellors around him, gracing the scene, 
 and representing our vast republic, in relations so worthy 
 of statesmanship, so dear to patriotism, so Excellent in 
 history, so properly consonant with the influence and the 
 sanction of religion ! God bless Franklin Pierce, the 
 President of the United States of America bless his 
 
88 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 administration bless our country bless the nations 
 of the earth bless you all, now, henceforth, and for- 
 ever, for the sake of our Redeemer, and our Lord, Jesus 
 Christ ! " 
 
 Dr. Cox is, no doubt, a man of enormous mental force, 
 but he wastes his intellectual ammunition on small affairs. 
 He is great, in fact immense, in small things. Set him 
 on a paper of tobacco, a long nine, or a spittoon, and he 
 will fire one of his Paixhan guns of eloquence into it, 
 knocking it on the instant into smithereens. 
 
 Probably the doctor is a good man in fact, we have 
 no doubt of it ; but we are quite sure, although we have 
 never manipulated his head, that the self-approbatory 
 organs are protuberant. We should say that his love of 
 approbation is at least 7, by Fowler's scale, and his self- 
 esteem ditto. His organ of reverence may be about the 
 same or it may not. As a preacher, we do not par- 
 ticularly admire either his matter or his manner. He is, 
 however, a man of talent and learning, and, as we have 
 already intimated, " really conscientious." 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 89 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 EOWE STREET CHURCH. A CHURCH AMONG THE MOUN- 
 TAINS. HYMN BOOKS AND HYMNOLOGY. AN EFFECTIVE 
 CHOIR. DR. BARON STOW. HIS PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 
 STYLE OF PREACHING. THE ORATOR AND THE TEACHER. 
 
 ON turning from Essex into Howe street, that quiet 
 and pretty city nook, at whose northern extremity we 
 almost seem to catch a glimpse of the green country 
 amidst the otherwise " endless meal of brick," the wan- 
 derer will perceive two prominent objects a church 
 turret and a church spire. The former is old fashioned, 
 destitute of architectural beauty, and by no means pic- 
 turesque. The latter soars upward in all its gothic glory 
 from a fitting temple for worship, and is an ornament to 
 that portion of the city in which it is situated. It is to 
 this dark red sandstone structure that I am this morning 
 bound ; but as full half an hour must elapse before the 
 summoning bell will swing forth its welcome, I saunter 
 through the adjacent streets arm in arm with an old 
 church-goer, like myself, who, however, possesses a great 
 advantage over me in his long and intimate acquaintance 
 with the Boston pulpit. 
 
 I referred, it will be remembered, in my last sketch, 
 to church architecture in general. I am not now going 
 8* 
 
90 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 again into that subject, but I cannot help alluding to the 
 exterior of this Howe street church, for it is well worthy 
 of a passing remark. The edifice is, despite some archi- 
 tectural anachronisms scarcely worth pointing out, ex- 
 tremely beautiful. High above its roof soars a gracefully 
 proportioned spire, which is terminated by an ornamental 
 carving. This is well. I am no liker of the monstrous 
 and deformed effigies that we see occasionally displaying 
 their golden surfaces in mid air. Now a cross appears 
 to me to be the most appropriate symbol which can sur- 
 mount a religious edifice ; and though some good people 
 object to the use^ of this emblem, on account of its having 
 been so extensively exhibited by Roman Catholics, I 
 cannot, for my own part, see any reason for its rejection. 
 I fancy there is more prejudice than piety in the objec- 
 tions to its more general adoption. 
 
 But, perhaps, the earliest known addition to the sum- 
 mit of a church spire was, aftejr all, the best. Some 
 years since as I was travelling in Wales, after a long and 
 wearisome walk over a bleak and forlorn moor, upon 
 which loomed up here and there Druidical remains of 
 Cairn or Cromlech, gaunt and grey in the twilight, I 
 came suddenly upon one of those little mountain chui-cii- 
 es, surrounded by its lonely burial ground, which at long 
 intervals give the only indications of man's existence in 
 those remote districts. It was an ancient time and 
 storm-battered building, whose spire now stood out in 
 bold relief; for, on the horizon's verge, stretched far 
 away to the right and left, an opening beneath the cur- 
 tain of cloud, that, dun and rapidly deepening into 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 91 
 
 gloom, though its lower edge was yet tinged with lurid 
 hues from the to me unseen sun, was rapidly descending to 
 conceal from mortal sight that radiant "vista into 
 Heaven." 
 
 As with an eye for the picturesque, and, in such situ- 
 ations, dull must he be who does not possess it, I drank 
 in the scene whilst resting on a huge boulder. I noticed, 
 that distinct and sharp against the luminous sky I have 
 spoken of, and on the very summit of the old church 
 spire was, greatly magnified by the deceptive light, a 
 gigantic human hand, with the fore finger extended and 
 pointing upward. At first I supposed it to be an optical 
 illusion ; but the shifting hues caught from the western 
 sky, and a nearer approach to the object itself, showed 
 me that a hand carved in stone surmounted the building. 
 And afterwards in conversation with a distinguished 
 Welsh antiquary, Dr., Downes, one of Blackwood's 
 corps of contributors imots best days, and as Christopher 
 North in reviewing his ^Mountain Decameron" termed 
 him, the " Salvator Rosa of prose writers," I heard 
 that such a terminal, or, more correctly speaking, " finial," 
 to a spire, was by no means uncommon u^^ie land of 
 Saint David. Now what could be more su^estive than 
 this device of a finger pointing heavenward ? As I that 
 evening gazed thereon, I fancied that no more pow- 
 erful sermon was ever preached in the pulpit below, than 
 by that lofty stone finger. There it had stood for centu- 
 ries, and there it may remain during centuries to come, 
 a silent director to the " things that are unseen and eter- 
 nal." As I passed the building itself I climbed over the 
 
92 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 " hatch," the only barrier to an entrance into that un- 
 frequented temple, and stood beneath the ancient roof, 
 
 And in truth it was a solemn sight 
 
 To see that church in the dim twilight 
 
 With its pulpit, and never a parson there ; 
 
 Its clerk's desk with no one to mutter a prayer. 
 
 Its silent bell, and no girls nor boys 
 
 To lustily sing with heart and voice ; 
 
 Its empty pews ; its musty books ; 
 
 And its carved men in stonen nooks ! 
 
 All looked shadowy, gaunt and odd, 
 
 In that hushed and desolate house of God ! 
 
 Such or something like them were the lines which I 
 scrawled under a hastily-taken drawing of the interior 
 of the old Welsh church. But back from the mountains 
 must I come, and the voice of my companion at once dis- 
 pels the dream. 
 
 We had been talking about tl^ preachers of the day, 
 and in reply to some remarks of mine my friend said : 
 
 " Upon the whole, the pulpit in our day does not deal 
 with deep convictions it is not an age of deep convic- 
 tions ; yet jd^never a man such as Baron Stow, whom we 
 are about ^Wiear, with deep convictions speaks, he is 
 listened to earnestly. No matter what a preacher's con- 
 victions may be, indeed, if it can be felt that he has 
 them, and that he does not sham the having them, men 
 will attend to him." 
 
 " I almost fancy," said I, " from what I have observed, 
 that the convictions of the skeptic are stronger than the 
 convictions of the Christian. Such men as Newman and 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 93 
 
 Froude, and one whom I might mention nearer home, 
 are potent " 
 
 " Aye aye," interrupted my companion, " they, too, 
 are the sons of faith ; but what a cheerless, cold, moon- 
 light faith it is ! Now the books of one of the men you 
 allude to are circulating largely, are received by all the 
 young, thinking, purely-affectioned spirits of America, 
 and with few exceptions the pulpit does not supply, what 
 every pulpit ought to supply, a Catholicon for the "leper- 
 ous distilment." There is no salvation from skepticism, 
 so long as preachers tell their auditors to believe only 
 what can be comprehended by the sense, and yet nearly 
 all our modern books of Christian ' guidance are based 
 upon such appeals." 
 
 By this time we had reached the church door, and our 
 conversation was cut short, for which, perhaps, the reader 
 may not be sorry. 
 
 The interior of Howe street church is exceedingly 
 beautiful, and to my mind just what a church interior 
 should be. The style is gothic, and the warm, rich brown 
 tint of the walls, blended with the dark walnut wood of 
 the pews, pulpit and gallery fronts, produces a charming 
 effect. The windows are adorned with stained glass: 
 and for once the colors are not too glaring only suffi- 
 ciently brilliant to temper the sober radiance within, with 
 occasional gem-like hues on cushion and carpet. The 
 pulpit, with its pure gothic screen-work at its back, its 
 adornments of arch, pillar, lozenge and quatrefoil, is quite 
 in character with the rost of the edifice ; and the groined 
 roof surmounting the clere-story windows, harmoniously 
 
 * 
 
94 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 cover and combine all. The organ had been erected on 
 a modern principle, in consequence of which the space 
 usually allotted to it in the gallery was saved, but I con- 
 fess I missed the gilded pipes, which seem to give char- 
 acter to a church. However, room is of more consequence 
 than mere appearance, and so I suppose the judicious 
 builders considered. 
 
 Scarcely had I entered the church, when a gentleman, 
 observing that I was a stranger, very courteously and 
 promptly showed me to a seat. Now such little attentions 
 as these can only be properly appreciated by those who, 
 like myself, are far from home. One does not always 
 f^ceive them though, and therefore I now gratefully re- 
 cord the attentions which I have on more than one 
 occasion received at Rowe street church. I have heard 
 toll of a certain newly-married husband, who, whilst 
 inaMng his morning toilet, exclaimed, as he gazed toward 
 the just reddening east: "The glory of the world is 
 rising ! " His better half, imagining that she was the 
 object alluded to, chimed pleasantly in with Ah, my 
 dear ! but what would you say if I had my new shot silk 
 dress on ? " And so, although as a mere dropper in to 
 Mr. Stow's church, I was most politely accommodated in 
 a comfortable pew, how much more might I have been 
 honored, had my conductor to the said pew known that 
 he was escorting THE CHURCH-GOER ! Luckily for my 
 modesty, the claret-colored old fashioned coat and spec- 
 tacles escaped his observation. 
 
 Taking up a hymn-book which lay beside me, I turned 
 to its title page and discovered the name of Baron Stow 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 95 
 
 as one of its compilers. Now in the matter of hymn- 
 books, I am rather curious, and it may be critical. More 
 than this, I always look at a new (to me) collection of 
 sacred lyrics with suspicious eyes, for so often have I 
 met in such with mutilated versions of fine hymns ; altep- 
 ations to suit the tastes or the doctrines of particular 
 sects, that I have more than once flung them aside with 
 anything but a complimentary criticism. And it appears 
 to me one of the most shameful and unjustifiable things 
 in the world to take a hymn of Watts, for example, and 
 so twist and torture it that its author would never have 
 recognized it, to fit some sectarian crotchet or other, al- 
 though such author's name be appended to it. In ninetyr 
 nine cases out of one hundred, too, the alterations prove 
 to be spoliations, the bunglers mar what they vainly 
 attempt to mend. Why, I have actually seen that fine 
 hymn of Watts's, " There is a land of pure delight," 
 completely burked by additions and leavings out. In 
 fact, these metre-mongers ought to be severely punished, 
 for I hold that a compiler has as much right to walk into 
 my parlor and alter the hanging of my pictures, as to 
 take reflections of my mind on paper and distort them to 
 suit his purposes. There are, I grant, instances in which 
 verbal alterations may be made for the sake of rhythm, 
 or obsolete words may be advantageously expunged^ but 
 the sense should never be interfered with, and the patch- 
 work process ought to be altogether abolished. 
 
 So I read through the preface to " The Psalmist," 
 (the name of the collection of hymns used at Howe 
 street church, and I believe by the Baptists generally 
 
96 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 throughout America) and since then I have carefully look- 
 ed over its pages. Of course either commendation or 
 censure from my pen respecting it would but little avail ; 
 but I cannot avoid saying that u The Psalmist " is, with- 
 out exception, one of the best collections of hymns that it 
 was ever my fortune to fall in with. From the title page 
 to the last leaf, although there were some alterations, 
 there were none that were not judicious, and in most 
 cases they were amendments. It was evident enough 
 that poetic minds, as well as pious hearts, had had to do 
 with that selection. Indeed, no good hymn book could 
 be produced unless by such a happy combination of re- 
 ligion and taste. Alas ! that the two should so often 
 be separated ! There are only one or two other hymn 
 books which are fit to be named in the same category as 
 the one of Messrs. Baron Stow and S. F. Smith's, and 
 that is the collection made by the Rev. John Liefchild, 
 of Craven Chapel, London. These hymns are all orig- 
 inal, and were contributed by various pens, for the use 
 of that particular chapel, but are little, if at all, known 
 in this country. I should, however, recommend any 
 future editor of a hymn book to purchase a copy of it. 
 Among the contributors to it, are James Montgomery, 
 Joseph Cottle, Josiah Conder, and others. 
 
 One of these original hymns from the pen of the Rev. 
 Edward White of Hereford, I am tempted to quote, be- 
 cause of its exceeding beauty. It is entitled 
 
 "WITHIN THE VEIL. 
 'Tis but a veil that hangs between 
 The saint, and joys divine ; 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 97 
 
 And beams of mercy oft are seen 
 Amidst its folds to shine. 
 
 When fainting pilgrims weep no more, 
 
 But 'mid their woes rejoice, 
 'Tis light from Heaven has saved the poor, 
 
 And raised the grateful voice. 
 
 When flames around the martyr's brow 
 
 Forbid his faith to fail, 
 The beams that on his features glow 
 
 Come from ' Within the Veil ; ' 
 
 And hourly doth that veil unfold 
 
 Some waiting saint to bless, 
 Whom Jesus summons to behold 
 
 His face in righteousness ! 
 
 The angels bear them, one by one, 
 
 To join the ransomed throng 
 Who, round about the Eternal Throne, 
 
 Awake the Conqueror's song ! 
 
 Their harps of gold we hear not now, 
 
 But soon the day will rise, 
 When veiled no more, we all shall know 
 
 The glories of the skies ! " 
 
 What an interesting article a good chapter on hymn- 
 ology would be, if written by one who was well posted 
 up on the subject. I wonder that some one has not taken 
 up 'the pen on this hitherto neglected topic. What know 
 we of the poor, obscure Baptist minister in England, 
 who wrote the most magnificent hymn that any one, not 
 9 
 
98 TULPIT PORTRAITS : OR, 
 
 an inspired writer, ever penned ? I refer to the hymn 
 or ode commencing with 
 
 " The God of Abraham praise, 
 
 Who reigns enthroned above ! 
 Ancient of everlasting days, 
 And God of love ! " 
 
 Strange to say, the author of the hymn never wrote but 
 one this one. Like the celebrated member of Parlia- 
 ment, who opened his mouth in Saint Stephen's but 
 once, and so earned the title of " single -speech Hamil- 
 ton ; " the poor Baptist preacher having made but one 
 utterance, might lay claim to a similar soubriquet. What 
 interesting histories may be connected with Watts's com- 
 positions, or Wesley's, or Doddridge's, and it would be 
 curious to collate the several editions of them from the 
 earliest downwards, and note the changes which have 
 been made. Then the histories of some particular 
 hymns the feelings they have created the consola- 
 tions they have afforded the triumphs they have 
 achieved ; the circumstances, too, under which they 
 were composed ; all these and other facts connected 
 with hymn history would be deeply interesting, aye, and 
 novel too, which is saying a great deal in these days. 
 Let some young, half employed minister or student look 
 to it, and thank us for a hint which carried into practice 
 may gratify the Christian public, and put some dollars in 
 his pocket. 
 
 But all this while I am travelling somewhat out of the 
 record, as the Legists say. 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 99 
 
 The minister rises and utters a brief prayer, after 
 which he reads the hymn, " Another six days' work is 
 done," with much feeling. His voice is deep, solemn 
 and well modulated. Evidently he feels what he ex- 
 presses in words ; and the author of that hymn, could he 
 hear it so recited, would be satisfied with the utterance 
 given to his ideas. This is, after all, the triumph of 
 hymn reading. And now T , the verses having all been 
 read, the unseen organ peals forth its low diapason. 
 
 The short, sweet prelude concluded, the choir sends 
 forth a strain of subdued melody. Ah ! they have 
 caught what choirs so seldom catch the spirit of the 
 strain which is syllabled by their lips and tongues. Soft- 
 ly, and with an emotion of joyful repose, is told the ces- 
 sation of the week's toil ; and the announcement of the 
 dawn of " another Sabbath," is made in jubilant though 
 gentle tones. Now, amidst floating harmonies that 
 steal along roof and aisle, is the soul invoked to arise 
 and enjoy the day its God has blessed ; and then a vis- 
 ion of the Sabbath of the skies seems dimly to appear 
 beyond the boundary and verge of this we are now 
 spending in his courts below ; of that new and better 
 day, whose dawn no clouds shall overshadow, which shall 
 ever be growing brighter and fairer as it approaches per- 
 petual noon, and whose sun shall set no more ! Treason. 
 against taste it may be, but I am sincere when I say 
 that I would rather hear that hymn sung as I that morn- 
 ing heard it, ly the Rowe street chapel choir, than listen 
 to the corabinid harmonies of all the great opera singers 
 in existence. And with all this beautiful execution, 
 
100 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 there was no musical affectation, none of the poly- 
 trasheries of "shake," or "trill," or quaver;" all was 
 simple and pure. The organ was remarkably well 
 played ; the soul seemed to tremble with the trembling 
 key, as the melodious murmurs swept along, and the 
 voice and^the instrument became as one in the act of 
 harmonious adoration and praise. The leader of this 
 fine choir is, I believe, Mr. Gould, a member of one of 
 our Boston publishing houses. 
 
 Let us now glance at the preacher, from whom, I fear, 
 my attention has too long wandered. 
 
 And first in regard of personal appearance. Having 
 more faith in Lavater's doctrines than in those of Spurz- 
 heim, in other words, believing that the face is a bet- 
 ter indication of a man's mind than the outside of his 
 cranium can be, I regarded Dr. Stow rather physiogno- 
 mically than with any reference to his cerebral or cere- 
 bellic developments. His face, then, greatly prepos- 
 sessed me in his favor, a rather uncommon circumstance 
 with me, for I am by no means apt to fall in love with 
 anything at first sight. It may be owing to some twist 
 in my mental organization, but I am rather apt to look 
 for faults than for excellencies in all new acquaintances. 
 However, in the case of Dr. Stow I was much impressed 
 with the grave solemnity [gravity and solemnity without 
 a tinge of gloom] of his countenance. He looked as 
 one conscious of the importance of his office of the 
 awful responsibility of the position he occupied as a " le- 
 gate of the skies." Of middle age, or but little beyond 
 it, his face and figure were fully developed. Dark, scan- 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 101 
 
 * %. 
 
 ty hair covered his head, and was combed partially over 
 a broad, white forehead. The nose was prominent and 
 slightly aquiline, the mouth expressive of decision and 
 energy. As I have before said, his voice was deep and 
 melodious, varied, however, in its modulat^}, by the 
 topics on which he dwelt ; now melting IflBra pathos, 
 now arousing by its earnestness, and anon attracting at- 
 tention by its pleading cadences. You could not look at 
 Baron Stow's face without feeling persuaded that it was 
 the index of a holy and devoted mind. It attracted you 
 towards it by the very force of gentleness. Mildness 
 and benevolence were trace^on it as on an open book, 
 and looking on it we could^lalize Towper's exquisite 
 description of the faithful minister^piich will occur to 
 every reader's mind. So much for personal appearance. 
 Now for an attempt, feeble though it must necessarily be, 
 to delineate his mental aspect. 
 
 The person who visits Rowe street church in the ex- 
 pectation that he may be gratified by listening to remark- 
 able flights of oratory, will be almost certainly disap- 
 pointed. Great plainness of speech, depth of thought, 
 simplicity of diction, scriptural language and affectionate 
 appeals, are the staple of Dr. Stow's sermons ; but you 
 will look in vain for rhetoric flash, metaphysical subtleties, 
 brilliant metaphors, or affluence of imagery. His ser- 
 mons are distinguished for the great naturalness of their 
 divisions. The texts, as it were, divide themselves of 
 their own accord. For instance, a friend informs us that 
 when he preached from the text " And the door was 
 shut," he remarked that there were two classes implied 
 9* 
 
102 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 :** 
 
 by the shutting of that door they who were shut in, 
 and those who were shut out. This reminds us of a ser- 
 mon we once heard preached by a Welsh minister from 
 the text " Why will ye die ? " In that case the minis- 
 ter, by ermDhasizing in turn each separate word, made 
 four diviSHf : Why will ye die ? why will ye die ? 
 why will ye die ? and why will ye die ? A "minute analy- 
 sis also characterizes his discourses, and the very basis 
 of all of them is fervent piety. Of pathos he is a mas- 
 ter, and with a gfertle hand does he often unseal the 
 fountains of tears. 'Perhaps no man's sympathies are 
 more universal, and hence^n hours of trial, or 
 
 " When^nguor and disease invade 
 
 This^Kmbling house of clay," 
 
 / 
 
 his ministrations are peculiarly acceptable. The funeral 
 sermons of no other ministei^whom we can call to mem- 
 ory are so impressive as Baron Stow's ; take those which 
 he recently delivered on the deaths of the late Rev. N. 
 W. Williams and Dr. Sharp, as specimens. Without 
 divesting death of its solemnity, he so addresses himself 
 to the living as to gild the gloom of the grave. For pub- 
 lic, and we hear for private benevolence he is remarkable, 
 and few men in the ministerial ranks are so universally 
 esteemed, both among his clerical brethren and by the 
 church generally. 
 
 One remarkable feature in Dr. Stow's ministrations is 
 the charm by which he attracts so many young per- 
 sons. We noticed a greater proportion of young men at 
 Howe street church than we have seen at any other. 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 103 
 
 -. 
 
 That must be indeed a fine-' and amiable mind which can 
 so enlist the generous sympathies and ardent impulses of 
 youth. As a pastor, he stands high, and though I am 
 far from estimating a minister's usefulness by a dollar 
 and cent standard, yet it is some credit to h^^iat, ow- 
 ing partly to his endeavors, his church has' Jeen freed 
 from debt. The congregation is remarkable for intelli- 
 gence, piety and usefulness, and the Sabbath school is in 
 a highly flourishing condition. 
 
 I have intimated that Dr. Stow is rather a Teacher 
 than an Orator ; indeed the two are very rarely combin- 
 ed. Why T^t ? The orator knows his power, and so 
 long as he can J^ind his auditors by the spell of his speech, 
 of his imagery, of his action, he di^gards the remain- 
 der. The teacher*lnows that hHias solid and substan- 
 tial worth to commudB>te ; he scorns the artificial ; has 
 in utter disregard all manner, and thinks only of his ideas, 
 and likes them best in unadorned vestments. Ever, of 
 course, the teacher merits most of our regard. The 
 orator, perhaps, in the highest sense, few men can be ; 
 but every man inducted into the office of the ministry, 
 ought to be a teacher, or he has no business in that office. 
 
 I have grown suspicious of orators, especially since I 
 long ago found that the most frivolous of them secured 
 the most extensive and profound attention. The orator 
 should be great in virtue of the continued attitude of the 
 soul ; he should not mount a pair of stilts to excite the 
 wonder of the vulgar. I confess I have never been able 
 to see why there should be an elaboration of manner and 
 matter for the pulpit or platform which would be scorned 
 
 OF THR 
 
104 PULPIT PORTRAITS : OR 
 
 | 
 
 in the parlor or drawing-room. What we want is honest 
 rhetoric, manliness of speech, plainness, and a determi- 
 nation to make the thought in hand known and felt ; to 
 put it in its largest and lowest relations ; to set it in the 
 frame w|^pf a most simple diction. The secret of all 
 oratory ^fe e genuine sense will be to be alive to the 
 subject ana dead to self, and this is possible. When 
 these requisites blend in the speaker, it is needless to say 
 the orator and the teacher are one. 
 
 The latter Dr. Baron Stow most assuredly is, and there 
 are times when he most happily adds to it the attributes 
 of the former. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 SUNDAY IN NEW YORK. TRINITY CHURCH YARD. EARLY 
 CHURCH IMPRESSIONS. DR. MAGOON'S CHURCH. WHIST- 
 LING A PSALM-TUNE. SKETCH OF REV. E. L. MAGOON. 
 HIS STYLE. 
 
 THERE are few things so disagreeable to me, as being 
 in a strange city on the Sabbath. On other days the 
 business and bustle of the thoroughfares, the attractive 
 shop windows, the kaleidoscopic changes of the costume 
 of the passers-by, and other novel objects which greet 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 105 
 
 one at every turn, greatly relieve the sense of utter 
 loneliness. But on Sundays the case is widely different. 
 Spite of yourself you are flung upon the worst kind of 
 solitude, the solitude of the streets. Far from his own 
 kith and kin, the family man, in a foreign land, sees with 
 moistened eye and quivering lip, the household groups 
 as they proceed to their accustomed places of worship. 
 In the notes of every church bell that swings in tower 
 and turret, he fancies he recognizes the old familiar 
 chime of the venerable sanctuary that is now far, 
 far away. Kinglake, in that fascinating book of his, 
 " EOTHEN," tells us that whilst one day reposing be- 
 neath a palm tree in the great desert, he suddenly 
 seemed to hear the bells of the cljurch of his native 
 village, and so perfect was the illusion that he was ab- 
 solutely startled thereby. And so in the pauses of the 
 chimes of Trinity church, New York, there seemed to 
 float around me echoes of the bell notes of old Saint 
 Mary Redcliffe, the church described by Chatterton as 
 
 "The pryde of Bristowe, and the westerne londe ;" 
 
 But a dozen strange objects speedily dispelled the mo- 
 mentary illusion, and convinced me that though water is 
 a good conductor of sound, too many billows rolled be- 
 tween me and old England to allow even a Fineear, such 
 as we read of in the fairy tale, to catch a random bell- 
 note amid their eternal roar. 
 
 It wanted yet an hour to the time of commencing 
 service in the churches, to one of which I intended 
 going. So descending the steps of that great caravan- 
 
108 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 sary, the Astor House, I strolled into the adjacent 
 burial ground of Trinity church, and after having paused 
 for a few moments by a monument placed over the bones 
 of one erratic genius by the sympathetic benevolence of 
 another, who was, in his turn, after a brilliant career, to 
 go down to a premature grave, I left the spot with a 
 sigh for the vanished glories of George Frederick Cooke 
 and Edmund Kean. Both of these men, the latter 
 especially, had been splendidly endowed with the, for 
 them, fatal gift of genius; each had recklessly flung 
 away, from love of the enchanting cup, friends, fame 
 and fortune ; and now, their parts on life's stage played 
 out, what had they left behind them but 
 
 " The glory and the nothing of a name ? " 
 
 I am not sufficiently familiar with the localities of 
 New York to state with precision the name of a street, 
 in going through which a very old-fashioned looking place 
 of worship attracted my attention. It could scarcely 
 fail to do so, for anything like antiquity in the way of 
 buildings is so uncommon in the New World, that when 
 I come upon such, it is certain to be noted by me. This 
 old place must have been built by some of the first in- 
 habitants of New York, and it reminded me much of the 
 old meeting-house interiors which we meet with fre- 
 quently enough in English cities and towns. I entered, 
 and few persons being present, I sat down in one of the 
 spacious high-backed pews. It really seemed for the 
 moment as though I must have been there before, every 
 object appeared so familiar. There was just such church 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 107 
 
 furniture as I had been accustomed to see in days of 
 childhood ; and as I gazed, memory called up the loved, 
 the lost, the distant, and the dead, and they all seemed 
 to crowd that dingy building. 
 
 How such accidental stumblings on places of this kind 
 make one revert to the days of " long ago ! " A writer, 
 (I know not his or her name,) so nearly describes the 
 first impressions that I recollect were made on my child- 
 ish mind by a first visit to a place of worship, that I am 
 induced to quote the following record of his youthful 
 thoughts and fancies, believing that many a reader will 
 understand it. Our unknown friend says : 
 
 " Never shall I forget my first impressions of church. 
 I was just out of petticoats when I made my debut in 
 meeting. How the people got into the gallery was a 
 mystery to my young imagination ; the stairs were in 
 the end porches we entered at the front door it was 
 an old fashioned house. The next wonderment was the 
 big sounding-board, suspended not quite so flimsily as 
 was the sword of Damocles, but by a single rope, which 
 I was fearful would break, and let down the cumbrous 
 thing on the minister's head. The ornaments upon the 
 top of it, painted with yellow ochre, I took to be mo- 
 lasses candy, and my mouth watered for more of it. 
 The glass chandelier was the next object of my observa- 
 tion and wonder. I could by a little stretch of the im- 
 agination, conceive how the iron rod which suspended it 
 from the ceiling was curiously twisted, having performed 
 a similar operation upon my sister's curling head ; but 
 how the glass candlesticks and the ornaments were r 
 
108 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 into such twistified shapes and quirks, staggered, amazed, 
 and bewildered my young brain beyond measure. I 
 was fearful that this whole concern would fall too, think- 
 ing that the iron rod was only stuck in the ceiling, but 
 there would not be so much danger attending the down- 
 fall of this as of the sounding-board, except in the egress 
 and ingress of the people, as it hung directly over the 
 centre of the broad aisle. The pillars that supported 
 the gallery were painted in a very distant imitation of 
 marble. I had heard my father relate a story of some 
 workmen finding a live toad in a block of marble, and 
 my unsophisticated fancy really thought it was one of 
 these, as there was a wide crack in a corner pillar. 
 This discovery was too good to be enjoyed alone, so I 
 spoke out aloud to my mother to ' look and see the 
 place where they got the toad out ! ' But my parents 
 thought it about time to take me out so I was taken 
 home, and an embargo put upon my church going until 
 
 I could behave better." 
 
 * * * * # 
 
 After quitting the old church, in which it was useless 
 for me to remain, as I observed that the services were 
 to be in the German language, I once more set out in 
 search of a sermon. Passing the park I sauntered along 
 Chatham street, and soon found myself one of a long 
 procession, which from its character, so different from 
 that exhibited by the denizens of the Bowery who were 
 not to be mistaken for beings of any other race or re- 
 gion whatever, I knew to be composed of sedate seekers 
 of some temple made with hands. Suffering myself to 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 109 
 
 be carried along with the stream, I turned with it into 
 Oliver street, where I beheld the portic'o of a large 
 church into which crowds were passing. 
 
 Of some persons who were standing on the top of 
 the short flight of steps, I inquired what church it was, 
 and who would be the officiating minister that morning. 
 I learned that it was the Oliver street Baptist church, 
 and that its pastor was the Rev. E. L. Magoon. 
 
 Magoon, Magoon, I said to myself. Surely I have 
 heard that name before. Where was it and with what 
 circumstance had it been connected ? S&on I recollected 
 that I had seen it on the title page of a book, a book on 
 American orators, I think, but there was a something 
 else that was associated with the name of Magoon in 
 my mind. Suddenly by mnemonic aid I solved the 
 enigma, if such it might be termed. Looking down the 
 street, my eye caught glimpses of the tall spars of the 
 shipping that lay below in the East river. Now one sel 
 dora looks at an assemblage of masts without mentally 
 quoting the hackneyed description of a " forest" of the 
 same. That was it the chord of memory vibrated in 
 unison with the phrase, and I recollected that a Rev. 
 Mr. Magoon had figured in the notorious Forrest trial as 
 a witness. Could the pastor of the Oliver street church 
 be the same person ? I fancied otherwise, for I could 
 not, in my simplicity, well conceive how a clergyman 
 could get mixed up with such a disreputable affair. It 
 is but fair, however, to say that Mr. Magoon's testimony 
 only went to show that he was on friendly terms with 
 10 
 
110: PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 the Forresfcs. With the immediate matter with which 
 the action was based he Tiad nothing whatever to do. 
 
 The church was spacious and commodious. As I 
 entered, a hymn was being sung by the choir, (not the 
 congregation,) and one voice was so audible above the 
 others, that it seemed as if its owner was ambitious of 
 sofo-izing. It reminded me of another solo affair, which, 
 (my pen, as I have before intimated, being of a vagrant 
 character,) I take the liberty of here adverting to. 
 
 We were some years ago, paying a visit in Devon- 
 shire, England,%nd of course on the Sunday accompa- 
 nied our friends to their parish church. It was one of 
 those sweet rural places which it does one's heart good 
 to go to ; the ancient ivy-clad tower rose from amidst its 
 multitude of surrounding graves, on which, as we passed 
 towards the porch, sat the villagers, chatting on various 
 topics. It was what is called Palm, or Flowering 
 Sunday, and according to immemorial custom, every 
 grave in that country churchyard was covered with 
 flowers. We shall not, however, attempt to describe 
 minutely the scene which ensued on the Paason's arri- 
 val, nor tell how, as he passed down the churchyard 
 walk, with his rusty cassock flying in the breeze, his ser- 
 mon-book in one hand, and a huge clasped prayer-book 
 under his arm, he with his right hand stroked the heads 
 of the children near him, or courteously lifted his shovel 
 hat, in acknowledgment of the bows of aged folk ; nor 
 how we observed a pale, consumptive looking girl sitting 
 on a tomb, (appropriate resting place for her) supported 
 
PEN-PICTURES. Ill 
 
 by her grandmother, watching, with large, hopeful, lan- 
 guid eye, for a smile from the good man whom she knew 
 she should not hear many times more ; nor how young 
 bumpkins, with buxom girls on their arms, pulled their 
 front locks with their big fists, and blushed stupidly; 
 nor, when he entered the sacred building and the ser- 
 vice commenced, how the church was decorated with 
 evergreens ; nor how the ambitious choir, consisting of 
 a bass viol, two fiddles, (neither of them being a Strad- 
 uarius nor a Cremona,) a reedy sounding clarinet, (it 
 had been bought at a great bargain at a pawn shop in 
 the neighboring town,) a bassoon, and a fife, executed 
 " Awake my soul, and with the sun," in a very extra- 
 ordinary style and manner ; nor how all the little charity 
 children in the gallery bawled prodigiously, nor how the 
 cracked voices of the alms-house people quavered at the 
 end of every verse, long after the other people had done 
 singing, to the great indignation of the red-nosed beadle, 
 who looked at the poor old creatures as if they had not 
 souls worthy of singing at all when the Squire was pres- 
 ent. We merely supply the outlines, the reader's imag- 
 ination will readily fill them up. 
 
 One of the psalms of the day was written in a pecu- 
 liarly u peculiar metre," or "perculer," as the Clerk 
 pronounced it ; and, unfortunately, neither the fiddles, 
 nor the bassoon, nor the clarinet, nor the fife, could for 
 the life of them fit a tune to it ; but we will do them the 
 justice to say, that they did the best in their power to 
 suit it, by mixing "long, short, and common metre" 
 
112 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 tunes together very ingeniously. They tried 
 ways, and very often sometimes they would proceed 
 pleasantly through a few bars ; first the bassoon would 
 grumble discordantly, then the fife would stop playing, 
 although the violins fiddled away most perseveringly. 
 In a little time the clarinet would wander away into a 
 wilderness of sounds, lose itself and die in the distance 
 with a feeble quaver, and lastly, a crash of discord 
 would end the matter ; and then came a new trial. But 
 all would not do, and so, as a last resource, the old clerk 
 got up, and to our utter astonishment, whistled a tune, 
 which the choir caught cleverly ; and then the fiddles 
 rejoiced, the clarinet went into ecstasies, the fife flour- 
 ished wonderfully, the bass viol solemnly sounded, and 
 the churchwarden's face brightened up so did the 
 beadle's ; the boys also bawled lustily ; and from that 
 time to this, Palm Sunday and Whistling Sunday have 
 ever been with us synonymous terms. 
 
 But to come back to Dr. Magoon. 
 
 His personal appearance was striking enough. Of 
 rather tall proportions, he seemed to assume a command- 
 ing position in the pulpit, and this air of I scarcely 
 know what to call it suppose I say of indifference to 
 what anybody thought or said, seemed to sit easily upon 
 his shoulders. His face was full of character, and in- 
 dicative, I fancied, of a mind that scorned all trammels, 
 and thought and expressed those thoughts in any manner 
 that seemed to him best, heedless of the praise or blame 
 of the hearers. Iron gray hair was carelessly tossed 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 113 
 
 about over a high but narrow forehead ; the eyes were 
 large and liquid ; the nose prominent, but not large ; 
 and the mouth somewhat retracted apparently because 
 the " grinders were few." This, also, may have affected 
 his speech, which was rather thick, and at times indis- 
 tinct ; but generally it was loud and sonorous, especially 
 when the fire of his oratory burned briskly, as it fre- 
 quently did during the discourse that followed. 
 
 Mr. Magoon's style of preaching is rather of the er- 
 ratic order. To a great extent he is extemporaneous, 
 and frequently when you are anxiously awaiting the 
 completion of a chain of original thought, (for he is at 
 times truly original) he flies off at a tangent, and you 
 become bewildered in a cloud of metaphor. His imagi- 
 nation is remarkably developed, but the ratiocinative 
 power he makes little use of, if, indeed, he possesses it 
 to any degree. Logic, argument, pure reasoning, he 
 seems never to have studied, and, as a consequence, hia 
 discourses, though filled with striking passages, are de- 
 ficient in solidity. Now and then you are startled by 
 bursts of eloquence, which come up surging like a 
 heavy sea over a barrier beach of fine words. Quaint, 
 too, is he, and sometimes you cannot avoid smiling at 
 his odd sayings. Yet, withal, he is no humorist. His 
 opinions evidently are of a liberal character, and I 
 should opine that folly, hypocrisy and fanaticism would 
 find little mercy at his hands. Altogether he is a strik- 
 ing preacher, and the number who flock to hear his min- 
 istrations proves that he is an attractive one. 
 
 Mr. Magoon is known as an author, but with him in 
 10* 
 
1.14 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 that capacity I have nothing to do. I may, however, 
 say that his books have been popular, and no work can 
 float on the tide of success without having some elements 
 of vitality in its pages. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A SAILOR PREACHER. ANN STREET. FATHER TAYLOR. 
 THE BETHEL CHURCH. ITS CONGREGATION. 
 
 SAILOR PREACHERS. Yes, we will for a time leave 
 the handsome church with its well cushioned pews iti'-- 
 elegantly attired congregation, and its refined observ- 
 ances, for the purpose of visiting a place of worship, 
 where sailors " most do congregate." Sanctuaries for 
 seamen are generally selected in strange, out-of-the-way 
 places ; in the neighborhood of wharves, and along side 
 docks, and in dingy streets ; so, reader, if you be over- 
 fastidious, we had better separate for a season ; and you, 
 fair lady, if you care not to follow in the steps of Mrs. 
 Fry or Miss Dix, pray take your piety and patchouli 
 somewhere else, for I warn you that the latter will be 
 little heeded in the places to which I am going. Eut I 
 have a better opinion of you ; so, on this bright Sabbath 
 morning, let us wander to one of the mariners' churches, 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 115 
 
 and on future occasions we wijl visit the other seamen's 
 Bethels, of which there arp no less than five in Boston. 
 
 We are bound for North Square. 
 
 " Ah !" observes some reader, it may be, " we shall 
 now have sompthin^jfunny, for Father Taylor is to be - 
 there. His eccentricity will afford the CHURCH-GOER 
 a fine opportunity for indulging in grotesque descriptions 
 or serio-comic remarks. So let us hear what he has to 
 say of the minister of the Bethel church." 
 
 You were never more mistaken in your life, friend. 
 I dortt mean to -be " funny." Pulpit sketching is a se- 
 rious business, and I, for one, am not inclined to jest 
 with sacred things, if you are otherwise minded, I pray 
 you let us part company. Let me not, however, be mis- 
 apprehended. Fun and humor are very different things ; x 
 the latter, I by no means object to, even in a place 
 of worship, and many an eminent divine has not scrupled 
 to avail himself of it. 
 
 " But humor in the pulpit ?" I think I hear one of 
 my antique friends exclaim. " Bless me, how exceedingly 
 incorrect ; how notoriously improper and wrong ; how 
 wholly out of keeping with the character of the time and 
 place ; humor in the pulpit surely cannot be tolerated by 
 any rightly discriminating congregation." Ah ! good 
 friends, I am quite at issue with you ; I think, or ven- 
 ture to think, that wit and humor, duly reined and guid- 
 ed, as they will always be by a refined and truly pious 
 mind, may be eminently serviceable in the -pulpit as well 
 as on the platform. They can utter a truth at a stroke 
 
116 * PULPIT PORTRAITS : OR, 
 
 or wopd, and impress the results of other heavier labors 
 by a single touch. 
 
 ~ A great deal might be said on this topic, but I shall 
 merely observe, in justification of my opinion, that hu 
 mor, besides being a keen dissector of error / and folly, 
 
 ' presents wisdom in a more lucid form. We see truth 
 the most clearly when it is made the mo^t ii-uly Jjuman ; 
 few people are able to comprehend it when it is merely 
 comprehended as a naked preposition as #n abstraction, 
 or as a generalization. Jlere and there there may be 
 one or another in your congregation able to ^follow you, 
 and interested in your searching logic ; but a man must 
 not preach to one or to two, but to all; the most abstract 
 mind in your congregation is human : draw it forth from 
 its abstraction, as every thought has to be clothed in 
 words to be comprehended ; as we can grasp no thought 
 without words cannot even think without putting what 
 we think into words, so we do best service for truth 
 when we develop its high humanity. And do you not 
 
 .' know that human and humor are one ? You see 'that in 
 my idea of humor f have not thought, as most people 
 seem only to think, of broad grins of caricaturing 
 of loud boisterous laughter. Oh no'; the best humor 
 runs along like quicksilver ; it is felt, but it makes no 
 noise. And you may be sure that whenever there is a 
 man who succeeds in winning unfaltering attention to his 
 speech, while he describes homely scenes and things, or 
 while he makes his pertinent common sense appeals, be 
 sure this man has humor not the less because he does not 
 
 , cause it to leap and chuckle before you. ^ / 
 
PE5HPICTURES. 117 
 
 Very much of ,^the objection to Humor as a teacher re- 
 sults from its very frequently being confounded with vul- 
 garity; but vulgarity is coarse and sensual humor is ' 
 refined and. spiritual ; vulgarity is animal humor is 
 human. I once heard a man in London I mean James 
 Wells, of the Surrey Tabernacle (let not this be con- 
 founded with the Surrey chapel, of which * James Sher- 
 man is pastor) who has a congregation of from twelve to 
 sixteen hundred persons constantly listening to him. I 
 s&y I once heard him spiritualizing a wheelbarrow - (just 
 as Eliza Cook in her trashy mock-poetry might embellish 
 a poker) describing his own power in analyzing the 
 subterfuges of sin, " because he was like the old woman, 
 who having been in the coalhole, knew where to look for 
 her daughter," likening the Arminian theology to " milk\ 1 
 and water," 'and "the gospel dispensation to fine old j 
 crusted port." Rubbish like this is composed of mingled 
 blasphemy, vulgarity and absurdity. I say the man who 
 can be guilty of this is not enough in earnest to be hu- 
 morsome that is, to have a real perception of the nicer' 
 and finer shades which we denominate humor. Such >" 
 men would do to make a mob of bumpkins laugh at a vil- 
 lage fair ; but I call him a humorist who, like Cervantes, 
 can shatter to pieces an already diseased and dying error ; 
 like Richter, distil fronk laughter the wisdom of the uni- 
 verse ; or like Chaucer, paint portraits of such true beauty 
 as to last through all time. J 
 
 Very different is the route we are now travelling from 
 the fashionable "regions of Beacon or Park streets. We 
 have left State street in its Sunday^ silence a silence 
 
118 PULPIT PORTRAITS I OR, 
 
 only disturbed by a few danglers about the post-office en- 
 trance, behind us, Faneuil Hall, too, is closed and 
 still, and Quincy Market no longer presents its long arcade I 
 filled with creature-comforts and comestibles. Skirting I 
 that quaint old gabled building at the corner, we soon i 
 find ourselves in the gentility tabooed region of Ann 
 street, or as it is now called after a cardinal point of the 
 compass North street, the stars however of that 
 "North" being exceedingly erratic and wandering, and 
 by no means of as true and faithful a character as the 
 mariner's sky or beacon-light. 
 
 Be careful how you walk along these sidewalks, for at 
 every step an open trap-door yawns to ingulf you ; and 
 to escape the dangerous depths more dangerous and 
 deceitful than any which yawn on dismal seas you 
 must plunge into the foul gutter that lazily flows by, 
 reeking with filth and pestilence. On week days these 
 dens send forth from their hideous recesses sounds of fid- 
 dle and tambourine that mock the surrounding moral 
 desolation, and act as lures to some dance-loving tar ; but 
 now, a certain compulsory respect is paid to the Sabbath 
 day, and for vile music is substituted viler oaths and 
 curses that fall from the lips of men, boys, women and 
 girls, that lie blinking and blearing on the steps ; their 
 drunken fits of the previous night not being half shaken 
 off. As we proceed, we note at the corners of lanes and 
 courts, villanous looking boys who eye you furtively, and 
 then as a police officer appears in sight, dive back into 
 the gloom from which they had emerged, only to re- 
 appear when the civic functionary is out of .sight. Here 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 119 
 
 and there a groggy, coatless sailor is to be seen reeling 
 along with a slatternly wench, and as you pass the bar- 
 bers' shops a buzz of strange noises issues from the open 
 doors. All around is filth, folly and iniquity, and were 
 it not for a few decently dressed people who are walk- 
 ing sedately toward the church in North Square, you 
 would imagine that Pandemonium had here located a 
 colony, so fiendish, foul and ferocious appeared the face 
 of every man, woman and child, that slunk about within 
 its horrible precincts. 
 
 Having reached a " fork " of Ann street we enter 
 North Square the name clearly a misnomer, seeing 
 that it is a triangular space, but what is in a name ? 
 Boston is called a moral and a model city, and we have 
 just witnessed what iniquity blackens and fosters in its 
 very heart ! In this North square we know there is a 
 church, but as yet we discern it not ; but looking upward 
 we see from a stunted tower a blue flag waving, and in 
 front of us are open doors, flanked by pillars of rough 
 undressed granite, through which people are passing, and 
 feeling assured that this is Father Taylor's church, we 
 pause in our walk. 
 
 Just opposite where we stand, the door of a house is 
 opened ; a rather striking looking person emerges from 
 the interior and proceeds briskly along the sidewalk 
 towards the church door. The people, or some of them, 
 stare at him ; but on he goes, heeding none of them. 
 He is of the average height, but spare and wiry no 
 superfluous flesh about his iron frame and he treads the 
 street as firmly as a youth, though more than sixty years 
 
120 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 must have passed over that weather-beaten figure. Hisj 
 chest is wrapped up in a gray plaid, of a small checked! 
 pattern, and for the air is keen he muffles up his} 
 face with it, permitting us only to see some iron-gray! 
 locks that straggle from under his closely-pressed down 1 
 beaver. But no matter, we shall have an opportunity! 
 presently of seeing him to better advantage, for that is! 
 FATHER TAYLOR. 
 
 After ascending a short flight of steps, we find our- 
 selves in the Bethel church. It is small and neat the 
 only ornament being Tlarge painting at the. back of the! 
 pulpit, representing a ship in a stiff breeze off a lee 
 shore, we believe, for we are not seaman enough to be 
 certain on the point. High over the mast-head are dark 
 storm-clouds, from one of which a remarkably small an- 
 gel is seen, with outstretched arms the celestial indi- 
 vidual having just flung down a golden anchor bigger 
 than itself, to aid the ship in her extremity, we presume, 
 although there is attached to the said anchor but a few 
 inches of Californian cable, which for any practical purpose 
 would not be of the slightest use. However, we must 
 not be critical on allegories ; and perhaps many a sailor 
 now on the great deep has pleasant recollections of the 
 picture if so, a thousand such anachronisms might 
 well be pardoned. 
 
 Whilst the choir in the gallery is singing a hymn to 
 the homely tones of a small organ, let us glance at the 
 congregation ; and a motley gathering it is. 
 
 There are no affectations in this place of worship, 
 whatever there may be in some others that we wot of. 
 
PEN-PICTURES. t 121 
 
 Fiom our pew (into which we were ushered by an old 
 sailor with a patch over his eye, and a limp in his gait,) 
 we can survey the whole scene. And it is a motley one. 
 The centre of the church is principally occupied by sail- 
 ors ; and in some of the side pews are landsmen, attract- 
 ed by curiosity, perhaps, or they may be relatives of sea- 
 men. But somehow, even many of these have an am- 
 phibious air, as though they could, without much effort, 
 cast off their dress coats and don the blue jacket. 
 
 Sailors of all descriptions are there. Old salts with 
 grizzled locks, short and crisp on the temples, and thin 
 on the crown; "Jacks," in the prime of life, with 
 dark hair, or locks bleached by storms and time ; with 
 sun-burnt faces, and great freckled hands, and brown 
 necks, and with a free and easy roll in their walk ; fine 
 handsome young fellows, coxcombs of the sea, who had 
 come "capering ashore," with plenty of dollars and 
 dimes ; young lads with frank faces and clear eyes, 
 and turned down blue collars, bordered with white ; 
 rough, hairy-looking fellows, in their shirt sleeves, or red 
 shirts, lounging in the seats uneasily, as though they were 
 sadly out of their element as indeed they are; and 
 well-dressed captains and mates, with their wives and 
 children all looking as happy as kings and queens, be- 
 cause " father is home again." These, and many others, 
 whom we cannot stay to describe, compose, to a great 
 extent, the honest-looking, hearty audience, who are this 
 morning to listen to Father Taylor. 
 
 But here and there are worshippers of another class. 
 Pale, anxious-looking women, some of whom shudder in- 
 11 
 
122 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 voluntarily as the wind roars without. And well may 
 they, for their husbands or brothers, or sons or fathers, 
 are far out upon icy seas, where, during the long polar 
 night, only faint flashes of the aurora borealis, partially 
 illuminates berg and floe ; or sweltering in the dreary 
 calms of tropical oceans, on whose long lazy swell is re- 
 flected the coruscations of the glorious southern cross ; 
 or it may be on surf-beaten reefs, where the shipwrecked 
 sailor lifts his tattered signal on his broken oar, and 
 strains his blood-shot eye, in the hope of attracting the 
 notice of-sSoma passing ship some vessel of Hope 
 whose hull never darkens the distant horizon ; or, haply, 
 lying " full fifty fathoms down," his bones bleaching in 
 ocean-caves, from whence they shall never rise until the 
 sea give up the dead that are in it. And there are 
 ocean widows, too, in that assemblage, not knowing them- 
 selves to be such, who, in their lonely rooms, to which 
 they shall presently repair, have gaudy portraits of their 
 absent spouses on the walls, and strange waifs and strays 
 of the deep on the mantel-shelf sea-weed and shells, 
 and insect-bored wood ; and a model of a ship on a 
 bracket, made by his own hands, and rigged to a rope ; 
 and sea-horses' teeth, and old books of navigation and 
 the like none of which they would exchange for their 
 weight in gold. 
 
 Gradually the church has become full; but " the cry is 
 yet they come." The pews are nearly every one occu- 
 pied, and every, now and then Father Taylor rises, and 
 with his long arm waves some sailor to a seat that his 
 keen eye spies out, for he has no idea of space being 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 123 
 
 sacrificed to ease. At length the pews are crammed, and 
 now he calls the fresh-comers to the sofa of the pulpit. 
 With half bashful looks the tars mount the steps and sit 
 beside the minister, who at length has even his own seat 
 filled. But he rather likes that, for he paces to and fro 
 on the platform, a smile of grim satisfaction playing on 
 his features. At last all are supplied with seats, and the 
 service commences* 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 SAILOR PREACHERS, CONTINUED. 
 
 PULPIT. SKETCH OF FATHER TAYLOR'S PBEACHING. . 
 " OLD TIMBERHEAD " ANECDOTES, ETC. 
 
 THE congregation having " settled down," the minister 
 advances to the desk, hymn book in hand, and with spec- 
 tacles pushed up to the summit of his high furrowed fore- 
 head, again narrowly scrutinizes his audience. The gray 
 plaid has been flung aside, and you see a vigorous but not 
 fleshy frame before you. The gray eyes are piercing and 
 filled with energy, and there is vigor and determination 
 in every lineament. With the chin slightly dropping on 
 the chest, he again peers over his glasses into remote 
 corners of the church, and occasionally waves hand or 
 hymn-book as he perceives some sailor without a seat 
 
124 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 At length, all being apparently disposed to his liking, he 
 gives out the hymn. 
 
 And he reads it with much feeling heart-feeling, I 
 
 mean. His voice seems at first somewhat husky, but it 
 
 is perfectly distinct. There is decision in every tone. 
 
 Occasionally he indulges in a brief commentary between 
 
 the verses, and it may be, requests those who do not par- 
 
 v( ticipate in the sentiments uttered not to join in singing 
 
 " them. Then having gone through the hymn, the choir 
 
 sings it. 
 
 Whilst they are so engaged Father Taylor does not sit 
 down. There seems to be very little desire for repose on 
 his part. With folded arms and spectacles again shoved 
 up amidst his iron-gray hair, he paces to and fro on the 
 platform now with his eyes bent on the floor, and now 
 curiously eyeing the people below. A hawk's eye has 
 he, and be there a single unoccupied inch of space, you 
 may be sure that it will not escape his notice. By the 
 time the hymn is finished he has resumed his place at the 
 desk, and opening the Bible with a jerk, he reads a chap- 
 ter from it. 
 
 As in the case of the hymn, so in that of the chapter, 
 he reads impressively, if not with a due regard to elocu- 
 tional conventionalities. For all kinds of scholastic re- 
 straints, indeed, he has an evident abhorrence. This 
 portion of the exercises terminated, he kneels and offers 
 up a prayer. 
 
 The spectacles are again on the summit of his forehead, 
 and as he waxes warm and animated we confidently ex- 
 pect that they will not long retain their position. But no, 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 125 
 
 they are apparently used to it, and there, spite of sundry 
 shakes of the head not over gentle ones either they 
 remain. At first his petitions to Heaven's mercy-seat 
 are short, pithy and sententious ; but as he goes on, the 
 prayer partakes a good deal of the character of an im- 
 passioned speech. With eyes rigidly closed a swaying 
 motion of the body a grip of the cushion-corners by 
 his nervous hands and with disarranged hair, he goes 
 on, as energetically as any " Praise-God-Barebones " of 
 the old Covenanter times. And he prays fora?? for 
 his own land and other lands for sailors of all nations 
 and on all seas for the whole human race. There is 
 an expansive benevolence in his addresses to the Deity, 
 which seems characteristic of the man ; nothing of sec- 
 tarian narrowness not a particle of bigotry. As may 
 be expected, " they that go down to the sea in ships," 
 engross a large portion of his petitions, and the earnest- 
 ness, with which he pleads for their special necessities 
 frequently draws tears from many an eye. 
 
 Another hymn. The choir at this Bethel church is 
 not; so scientifically proficient as are those of fashionable 
 churches ; but it is a good, plain, honest, hearty choir 
 for all that ; and what is better, the people in the pews 
 below second the eiforts of the persons in front of the . 
 organ in the gallery above. There are no flourishes, 
 shakes or fal lals of any sort, but what are just as good 
 perhaps better if one's ear is not over correct 
 you hear the running accompaniment of some gruff bass 
 voice proceeding from a great, bare, hairy throat. And 
 it is really touching to think, as you listen to those hoarse 
 11* 
 
126 PULPIT PORTRAITS I OR, 
 
 tones, that, though they are now chanting the praises of 
 the Most High, in subdued cadence, yet that when 
 " mighty winds are all abroad," and seas are dashing 
 over deck and mast, they are to be heard above the boom 
 of the billows, and the raging of the tempest. Mr. So- 
 and-so, the " eminent " vocalist, might sing with more 
 taste and science, but " Jack's " voice, rough and inhar- 
 monious as some might think it, is, I confess, quite as 
 welcome to me. 
 
 Now for the sermon. 
 
 The text is read twice ; then there is a pause, during 
 which the preacher quietly looks around him, then with 
 a sudden touch the spectacles ascend, and in firm, decid- 
 ed tones, he commences his discourse. 
 
 Have we a scholar in the desk ? Father Taylor gives 
 the meaning of some word in the " original." And he 
 does it well, too, though it is not difficult to discern that 
 he has got his information at second-hand. But then, he 
 does not pretend to profundity of learning ; he has so 
 lofty a scorn of hypocrisy of any sort, that he would be 
 the last man to pass himself off for that which he is not 
 an erudite student. Nor does he require such adven- 
 titious aid indeed he is better without it, for though I 
 yield to no man in my reverence for learning, I firmly 
 believe that many a fine mind is cramped by collegiate 
 training. For nearly every good writer, amongst our 
 Divines, a good preacher is sacrificed. 
 
 And here I may remark, en passant, that the pulpit is 
 no longer ahead of the press, as it was in the days of 
 Whitefield and his contemporaries ; no, it creeps feebly 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 127 
 
 in the rear. What great preacher, either of America or 
 England, would be acknowledged as a jurist in the courts 
 of thought or of style ? The pulpit, it would seem, has 
 delegated its ancient authority and power to those won- 
 derful types and fountains of thought in the printer's 
 office. In many places the press has quite superseded 
 the pulpit. In most large towns perhaps in the area 
 of civilization it is so : it is so much easier, pleasanter 
 and more instructive to read than to hear, and it must be 
 admitted as an apology for this that this is eminently an 
 intellectual age, and the supreme intellect, genius, is not 
 perhaps seldom has been in the pulpit. Let the 
 reader think of the names of the gifted men who wield a 
 power by their affections, by their scholarship, or their 
 imaginations, over the minds of men ; how brilliant, how 
 versatile, how profuse in splendor and diction ; how illus- 
 trious in the imperial domains of thought ; and then let 
 him think of the names of the most eminent orators or 
 teachers from the pulpit, and he will find scarce a name 
 worthy to be mentioned by theirs, or if so, ashamed to 
 bring to the pulpit the genius with which it adorned the 
 press. 
 
 To a very great degree the inefficiency of the pulpit 
 arises from its nonchalance and carelessness its defi- 
 ciency of feeling. Would you, young minister, retain 
 your place in the pulpit ? Would you compete success- 
 fully with the press ? Well, it is easy to do so ; only 
 this is necessary : take care that your hearers take 
 care that the public in general have not a more per- 
 fect sympathizer in the book than in the preacher. Yes ! 
 
128 
 
 take care of that take care that there is not more real 
 life in dead paper and printed letters than in real flesh 
 and blood. For look ! a man goes to the preacher ; he 
 finds him passionless and cold ; idealless and dull; unread 
 and uninstructive ; he turns hastily away. He goes to a 
 book ; he finds it full of passion and warmth ; full of 
 ideas and excitement ; full of knowledge and instruction ; 
 he finds the book to be a sympathizing friend. He 
 finds the preacher to be a tedious, tiresome talker. Now 
 that system of pulpit ministration is quite defective, 
 which does not compete successfully with the book. In 
 the management of an efficient man, every sermon might 
 be made certainly not as great as the greatest books, 
 but as interesting as the most interesting. 
 
 Now we shall see that it is in consequence of the 
 warmth and earnestness of Father Taylor, as well as of 
 his originality, he is so eminently attractive to men who 
 would go to sleep in nineteen out of a score of our fash- 
 able churches. 
 
 On goes Father Taylor with his sermon. After pro- 
 ceeding for about a quarter of an hour he gets fairly 
 warmed up to his work ; and now, pushing the Bible to 
 one side of the cushion, and throwing up the spectacles, 
 he pours forth a flood of passionate oratory. Every now 
 and then he pauses rubs the side of the cushion with 
 his long hand looks as though some strong thought was 
 seething and melting and fusing itself in the crucible of 
 his brain and now he pours it forth to take form and 
 shape for the edification of his hearers. And quaint and 
 grotesque enough these " castings" of his thoughts are. 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 129 
 
 Solemn and in earnest as the preacher is, it is impossible ) j 
 to avoid smiling occasionally at his remarks. At one 
 moment he shall draw you a picture of the most touching 
 pathos, so that your eyes will moisten and your lip quiver, 
 and in the next some sharp sarcasm, or withering denun- 
 ciation, or scorching satire, shall cause you to wonder at 
 the old man's energy. Touches of true poetry are not 
 unfrequent, and I have heard as pure eloquence fall from 
 his lips as ever the most accomplished and much lauded 
 amongst us ever delivered. And the glory of all these 
 things was only the more perceptible, because, apparent- 
 ly, so unpremeditated. All things said and done were 
 said and done off-haixd, and in a tone that might surely 
 appear gruff, but for the music of sensibility which turn- 
 ed its otherwise hard cadences to harmony, so he bluntly 
 shook out upon his auditors words and illusions which 
 each was a poem. No man that I have seen ever re- 
 vealed more plainly than Father Taylor how much more 
 he felt and saw than he was able to utter ; his eye re- 
 vealed it. The figure and the phrase were beautiful, 
 but from that rough and careless tongue, yet quivering 
 with sensibility, they became overpowering and sublime. 
 
 Very energetic becomes Father Taylor at times. As 
 he speaks he paces to and fro almost gasping with emo- 
 tion. Sometimes he stops suddenly rests his hands on 
 the cushion stoops forward, and fixing his eye on some 
 person or other, exclaims something in this way : " And 
 you, sir, you, sir ! you think you can escape the eye of 
 this all-seeing God, sir, you, a poor worm of the earth, 
 you, (rubbing his hands along the side of the pulpit 
 
130 . PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 * < ' 
 
 cushion) I tell you, sir" etc. And then he turns toi 
 
 another part of the building, and in subdued tones, says : 
 We are all of us soon to go to God's judgment-seat. 
 Here we're like a balloon all filled with the buoyant 
 gas, and ready to ascend into the pure atmosphere 'tis 
 only confined to the ground by cords now they're cut, 
 and there it goes up up up and away it sails 
 in all its beauty and freedom, far from this earth below. 
 Yes yes (pointing to an old gentleman in the mid- 
 dle of the church) my aged brother, yo u'll soon go 
 there are but few cords to keep you here ; you're nearly 
 ready ; the last tie will soon be cut. I can see you, like 
 the balloon, swaying to and fro, impatient to be gone. 
 God speed you, my brother." 
 
 To such as this would succeed, perhaps, a tirade 
 against obstinacy. And then we are given a graphic de- 
 scription of the conversion of Saul of Tarsus, during 
 which we are told that the " old rascal, when going to 
 Damascus to persecute the Christians, was knocked off 
 his horse ; " or to illustrate the process of conviction he 
 would put himself in a shooting attitude, and shoot invis- 
 ible arrows from imaginary bows right into some of the 
 pews. Now he would, in soft and felicitous accents, de- 
 scribe the beauties of a Paradise morning, and then fly 
 off at a tangent to fling a contemptuous sentence at " Mr. 
 Fiddle-de-dee up there, who endeavored to account for 
 the miracles of Christ." One Sunday morning I heard 
 him, when addressing sailors, refer touchingly to his old 
 companions of the deep, which he did something in this 
 way. I have no notes to guide me, and therefore the 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 131 
 
 reader must not expect absolute accuracy ; but I will be 
 as nearly correct as possible. He had been preaching a 
 'long sermon, and seemed somewhat fatigued, but sud- 
 denly he blazed up and exclaimed : u Ah, my time is 
 nearly up, I see, but I feel as if I was only just begin- 
 ning to preach now. Yes, yes, I could keep on for 
 hours to come ; but I must close. But I can't do so 
 without a few more words to some that I may never see 
 again. I've been engaged in the work many years, and 
 my toil may be most done. Ah ! where are all my old 
 shipmates gone, they who lay in hammocks beside me, 
 and who have fought at the same gun ? Gone, gone, 
 Ithey are all gone. No, blessed be God, not all ; there's 
 one left. [Here he pointed to an old salt with a bald 
 head, a red nose, and a regular man-of-war cut.] Yes, 
 there's old Timberhead ! He and I have weathered 
 many a storm together. But he's moored safely now, 
 and waiting for the last bell. [Here poor old Timber- 
 head began to show symptoms of tears, as did many 
 i more, myself included.] The summons will soon be 
 1 heard, brother. Aye, and many of you, my aged 
 I friends, will soon hear it too. You are tossed and tem- 
 < pest-driven now, but it's only a little farther you have to 
 c sail ; look ahead ; you'll have only to beat round that 
 last point, and then you'll be safe moored. Yonder's 
 the haven full in view." And a murmur of " bless 
 I God" concluded the appeal. 
 
 From this description it will be easily understood that 
 Father Taylor is possessed of remarkable dramatic 
 power. He acts, indeed, with the pulpit for a stage : 
 
182 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 but he does not act the buffoon. In him, that is natural j 
 and effective which in others would be strained and af-| 
 fected. Sometimes he is pungent and pointed. If he 
 observes any of the congregation sneaking out just be- j 
 fore the contribution-box goes round, he is very apt to j 
 send a hot shot after the shabby defaulters. Does he j 
 observe any of his congregation asleep, he will not hesi- j 
 tate to pointedly reprimand and inform them that there i 
 is a certain place where the temperature will prevent ; 
 their indulging in a nap ; or if any " fast" young men 
 are guilty of light or trifling behavior, woe to them, for 
 verily the will have their reward of rebuke. In what- , 
 ever he says or does you iftay be sure he is thoroughly 
 in earnest, and that is perhaps the secret of his great 
 success among the class to which he especially devotes 
 his time and energies. 
 
 It has been said that Father Taylor gives one the im- 
 pression of a person who hates the devil more than he 
 loves Christ. I do not think so. Fierce indeed is the 
 warfare which he wages against the powers of Darkness, 
 but not less powerful is he when he dwells on the glories 
 of Heaven and the mercy of Jehovah. With such 
 v hearers>ms1ri/it is necessary that the battering-ram of 
 Truth should be worked by no feeble hand ; but happily 
 he can heal the breach after he has made it. No, no ; 
 Father Taylor loves Christ all the more for hating Satan 
 so much. 
 
 A volume might be filled with Mr. Taylor's pithy re- 
 marks. And we could not conceive of one which would 
 be more interesting and instructive. His sermons entire 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 133 
 
 would never be popular, but extracts from them would 
 be. Why has no one attempted to collect his "say- 
 ings," whose " doings" have been described by so many 
 sketchers from Dickens down to this, the humblest re- 
 corder of them all? Doubtless many of his remarks 
 have been remembered by his sailor hearers when they 
 were far away from North Square, and possibly Father 
 Taylor covets no wid^popularity than this. 
 
 On one occasion we visited Bethel Church in company 
 with a New York Comedian of high reputation in his 
 walk. Father Taylor commenced by an appeal in behalf 
 of a Sunday-School pic nj^, and spoke so beautifully of 
 children, and sh^^^?ho^/much he loved to see them at 
 their little sports, tnat he almost seemed himself to grow 
 young' again in the recollection of them. The actor 
 was perfectly fascinated ; and at an after part of the 
 discourse, while Mr. Taylor was indulging in a strain of 
 pathos, I chanced to look round, and my friend, used as 
 he was to artificial scenes and descriptions, was so af- 
 fected by the unstudied art of the preacher, that he 
 fairly blubbered behind his pocket-handkerchief. 
 
 FATHER TAYLOR is, I believe, highly esteemed and 
 valued by sailors. And so should he be. For many a 
 year he has loved them and labored for them. He has 
 stood by the desolate bed of many a forlorn tar, and 
 soothed his last hour. Many have had reason to bless 
 him, and still he labors on heedless of age and its needed 
 repose. Rest, however, he does not, and will not whilst 
 there remains work for him to do. Long may he be 
 spared to those whom he so affectionately calls his 
 12 
 
184 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 " children," for such lives as his are of priceless worth, 
 and their value is only adequately estimated when for- 
 ever lost. So ends our reminiscence of the sailors' 
 preacher, Father Taylor. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 SPECULATIONS. THE MUSIC HALL. THEODORE PARKER'S 
 CONGREGATION. THE PREACHER. HIS PERSONAL AP- 
 PEARANCE. STYLE, ETC. 
 
 "HAVE you heard Theodore Parker?" Such is 
 the question which will be put to a stranger in Boston, 
 who asks any questions respecting the pulpit of the 
 " Athens of America." Should you inquire to what 
 denomination the preacher belongs, or at which church 
 he preaches, you will be informed that he delivers his 
 orations in no ecclesiastical edifice, but in the new Music 
 Hall ; and as for his particular sect, very few appear to 
 know, or indeed care anything about it. He is never 
 spoken of as being identified with any body of Chris- 
 tians; and indeed, the prefix of "Reverend" is seldom 
 accorded to him. Theodore Parker, and Theodore Par- 
 ker alone, seems to be all that his admirers care about. 
 
 But, if you are curious on the subject, you will learn 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 135 
 
 by consulting the title page of his published volume of 
 sermons, that he is " Minister of the Twenty-Eighth 
 Congregational Society." Many, indeed, are the dis- 
 putes as to which body he really belongs. The orthodox 
 folks, of course, repudiate him. The Unitarians show 
 him the cold shoulder, and the whole legion of sects, in 
 fact, will have none of him. Evangelical Christians 
 pronounce him an infidel of the first water. Keligionists 
 of the old Puritan School, shudder when his name is 
 mentioned, and forbid their children hearing him ; and 
 this whilst his followers boast of his piety of life and his 
 boundless benevolence. But Theodore Parker, it is said, 
 cares for neither praise nor censure, and Sunday after 
 Sunday, from his desk in the Music Hall, with a sort of 
 " Bucks, have at ye all" spirit, he discharges his arrows 
 sharp and fast at each of them. 
 
 Reader, accompany me, in imagination, to the Boston 
 New Music Hall. It is a brilliant Sabbath morning, 
 and, quitting the now silent Washington street, we stroll 
 along the verdurous walks of the " Common ;" Heaven's 
 glare of blue, tempered and toned down by the flicker- 
 ing masses of foliage above, through which creep sun- 
 beams that pave as 'with brilliant Mosaic the grass at our 
 feet. Scores of bells are swinging out their invitations 
 to praise and prayer, and through Tremont street goes a 
 long procession of church- visiting Bostonians. Following 
 in their track, we pass Park street church, and then, 
 suddenly turning to our right hand, enter Bumstead 
 place, at the end of which is one of the gates of the 
 Hall, which we enter. 
 
136 PULPIT PORTKAITS : OR, 
 
 You have never visited this building ? Well, then, as 
 we are early, let us ascend to the upper gallery, for the 
 purpose of surveying the scene to advantage. And a 
 brilliant coup d'ceil is presented as we pass through the 
 little glass door to our seat, and take in the whole inte- 
 rior at a glance. Although we are far aloft, the richly- 
 decorated and gilded ceiling is high above our head 
 but look below, and tell me if you ever beheld a more 
 charming spectacle. 
 
 Already the place is filled, the two galleries and the 
 body of the Hall itself, and the platform nearly so. 
 There are neither pillars nor chandeliers to obstruct the 
 view ; so that we may sit in our most comfortable chair, 
 for such it may be called, and let our eyes wander, like 
 Wordsworth's river, at their " own sweet will." Imagine, 
 reader, that you are in the car of a balloon, looking 
 down on a garden of flowers, all of which have burst 
 into bloom, and you may form some idea of the appear- 
 ance of Mr. Parker's congregation. The ladies are of 
 course, as the reporters say, elegantly dressed, and so 
 the various colors of ribbon, silk dress, shawl and scarf, 
 present quite a kaleidoscopic appearance. Mercy on 
 us ! What countless yards of crape and crinoline are 
 ingeniously folded into many a fashion below ! One 
 lady immediately beneath presents the appearance of a 
 small head and shoulders rising from a cloud of muslin, 
 a bust surmounting a balloon ! The black coats and 
 heads of the gentlemen relieve the glare of white, blue, 
 crimson and multiform combinations of the prismatic 
 tints, and give a sober tone which is really needed. 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 137 
 
 Fans are fluttering in all directions. Here and there 
 you may observe a gentleman reading his Sunday morn- 
 ing's newspaper and there, in a corner of the gallery, 
 a young lady is busy over some "yellow-colored lit- 
 erature;" conversation is not interdicted, and around 
 us is a perpetual buzz. Are you fond of notabilities ? 
 Then I'll point out one or two who are usually to be 
 found in Mr. Parker's congregation, for we have yet a 
 quarter of an hour to spare, and it is useless to waste 
 time. 
 
 That tallish man with light reddish hair, a good shaped 
 head, and whose face is indicative of great force of 
 character, is Wendell Phillips certainly one of the 
 most fascinating speakers in the United States. Just 
 beyond him, and in the seat next to the platform, is a 
 gentleman with a shining bald head, save at the temples 
 and behind. Look at him well, for he is a man who will 
 leave his impress on this age. You must often 
 have heard of him that is William Lloyd Garrison. 
 Hereafter, I shall furnish a sketch of this remarkable 
 man ; so for the present, I leave him. There, under 
 the gallery, with chin in hand, is a young and rising 
 public man. Look at his intellectual face his keen 
 eyes his bold forehead it is Anson Burlingame a 
 fine thinker an adroit debater, and a ready speaker. 
 Yonder is a young man of slight figure and low stature, 
 but with head, eyes and forehead of remarkable size. 
 You can see his great gray eyes through the spectacles 
 which are before their bulging balls. That is Edwin P. 
 Whipple. Alongside him, is one of those New England 
 12V 
 
138 PULPIT PORTRAITS : OR, 
 
 bards, who peddle poems at " commencements" and in 
 Lyceums, just as other Yankees vend more material 
 " notions." But the organ commences a voluntary, so 
 let us observe a decorous silence, and keep our eyes and 
 ears wide open. 
 
 While the music is sounding, a gentleman makes his 
 appearance on the ample platform, and walking to its 
 centre, seats himself in a plain arm-chair. Before him 
 is a small cushioned desk, with flaps on either side, on 
 one of which is placed a Bible, and on the other a bunch 
 of flowers. With his hands joined on his lap, he sits un- 
 til the music ceases, and then rising and stepping for- 
 ward, he rather indicates a preparatory prayer, than ut- 
 ters one ; for what he does say is in so low and mum- 
 bling a tone, that only those near him can be at all 
 benefited by it. This concluded, he opens a book and 
 selects a hymn. While he is so engaged, let us glance 
 at his " outer man." 
 
 You may see at once that he belongs to the studious 
 race. That slight stoop of the shoulders, which all close 
 students acquire, to a greater or less degree, is observa- 
 ble. He is rather short, or on that platform appears to 
 be so, as we look at him from above. His figure is spare, 
 but not slender ; it in fact, is well proportioned. The 
 head is striking ; not that it is like Whipple's, of a re- 
 markable size ; but on account of its symmetrical pro- 
 portions. It appears an extremely well balanced skull ; 
 but, avoiding the senseless jargon of " organs" and " de- 
 velopments," let me simply remark, that it is a sensible 
 looking head. Excepting on the temples and behind, it 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 139 
 
 is destitute of hair, the forehead thus appearing larger 
 than, strictly speaking, it actually is. As to the features, 
 they cannot be called " striking ;" they are, in fact, 
 extremely common-place ; nay, their expression is abso- 
 lutely dull. The spectacled eyes appear to have little 
 " speculation" in them, and the nose is of a kind which 
 may be called insignificant. The mouth is large ; the 
 face more round than oval ; the complexion pale, and 
 the hair somewhat gray. So much for the personal ap- 
 pearance of Theodore Parker. 
 
 He reads the hymn well and with feeling; but his 
 voice is thick, indistinct and husky ; then he resumes 
 his chair, and the choir, perched up behind him, sings 
 the stanzas through, in quite a scientific style. The con- 
 gregation takes no part whatever in this part of the ser- 
 vice, and it appears rather like an exhibition of vocalism, 
 than an act of adoration and praise. There is no heart 
 in it, and little wonder that it goes off coldly. 
 
 Next, a short passage from the Bible is read, and 
 another prayer follows. It is uttered in the same dull, 
 husky voice, and appears devotional. As he proceeds, 
 his tones become clearer and more distinct, and now, after 
 all you have heard of " Atheism " and " Infidelity, " you 
 are surprised to listen to sentences and sentiments which 
 might have fallen from the lips and flowed from the heart 
 of the most orthodox minister in America. It contains no 
 toilsome repetition, no offensive familiarities, no mere 
 common places of diction, and at its close you come to 
 the conclusion that, like a certain gentleman who is fre- 
 quently libelled by being painted in the darkest of colors, 
 
 
140 PULPIT PORltRAITS : OR, 
 
 Mr. Parker is not, after all, quite so heterodox as he has 
 been represented. 
 
 Another hymn is sung, and then Theodore Parker 
 rises once more ; this time to preach, or lecture, which- 
 ever term you choose, you may apply to his address ; 
 perhaps the latter is the most appropriate. 
 
 Laying aside the Bible, he places his manuscript on 
 the velvet cushion, and from it reads a text of Scripture, 
 merely, it would seem, as a matter of form, for, as a 
 text you will before long see it is utterly useless. He 
 now (and let me be understood as speaking of his dis- 
 courses generally) gives utterance to a few brief, pithy 
 remarks, and then announces the particular theme or 
 topic of discourse. Not far has he proceeded before you 
 are attracted by the novelty of his discourse, and by his 
 utter disregard of all pulpit conventionalities whatever. 
 Has some leading politician been playing " fantastic 
 tricks" before his countrymen ? No matter who he may 
 be, nor how high is his position, Theodore Parker dis- 
 sects his conduct with a merciless scalpel, and lays open 
 to view the blundering statesmanship or the unlucky blun- 
 derer himself, just as a lecturer on pathology might dis- 
 play to a class of students the morbid appearance of a 
 liver or a brain. Evidently he has not the fear of man 
 before his eyes ; indeed, the more exalted the quarry, 
 the more eager is he to unhood the falcons of his sarcasm 
 y\ or his satire, and to rejoice as they swoop and pounce 
 upon it. The selection of topics such as these, tliat is, 
 the misdoings of men, seems to be characteristic of the 
 preacher. Who that heard his sermont on Daniel Web- 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 141 
 
 ster, ere the ashes of the statesman were well cold in his 
 grave at Marshfield, will soon forget the savage earnest- 
 ness with which he seized, as it were, with his teeth, on 
 the frailties of the departed politician ; shook them as 
 a blood-hound shakes the quivering flesh of its human vic- 
 tim, and then laid them down with a scarcely conceal- 
 ed triumph ; a triumph which took the shape of a regret ? 
 
 As some may be ignorant of Mr. Parker's real posi- 
 tion, it may be well to give an extract or two from a 
 couple of late published sermons of his. 
 
 " I do not believe there ever was a miracle or ever 
 will be ; everywhere I find law the constant mode of 
 operation of the Infinite God. I do not believe in the 
 miraculous inspiration of the Old Testament or the New 
 Testament. I do not believe the Old Testament was 
 God's first word, nor the New Testament his last. The 
 scriptures are no finality to me. * * * I do not be- 
 lieve the miraculous origin of the Hebrew Church, or the 
 Buddhist Church, or the Christian Church ; nor the mi- 
 raculous character of Jesus. I take not the Bible for my 
 master, nor yet the Church, nor even Jesus of Nazareth, 
 for my master. I feel not at all bound to believe what 
 the Church say is true, nor what any writer in the Old 
 or New Testament declares true ; and I am ready to be- 
 lieve that Jesus taught, as I think, eternal torment, the 
 existence of a devil, and that he himself should ere long 
 come back in the clouds of heaven." Speaking of Je- 
 sus, he says : " He is my historic ideal of human great- 
 ness ; not without errors, not without the stain of his 
 times, and I presume of course not without sins for 
 
142 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 men without sins exist in the dreams of .girls, not in real j 
 fact ; you never saw such a one, nor did I, and we never 1 
 shall." In one of Mr. Parker's published works, speak- 
 ing of Jesus Christ, Mr. Parker condemns him for his I 
 abusive language to the Scribes and Pharisees, when he 
 says, " Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers, how can 
 ye escape the damnation of hell ?" Mr. P. thinks this 
 language hard and abusive, but presumes the author of the 
 language, i. e. Jesus, is excusable by reason of his youth. 
 A Liberal of the first water & Theodore Parker. Hu- 
 man progress is dear to his heart, and most of his ser- 
 mons have a bearing on this subject. With the humbler 
 classes of society he professes, and doubtless possesses 
 a profound sympathy. In point of originality, there are 
 many hundreds of ministers who surpass him, for his 
 quaintnesses are frequently taken for this prime quality. 
 But he is perfect master of rhetoric, wit and sarcasm, 
 and with these weapons he wages a succcessful warfare. 
 No wonder he is popular among the" youthful and the 
 impulsive they like dashing hits, and pointed allusions 
 but they like also, too many of them, to let other peo- 
 ple do their thinking for them. And not a few are nev- 
 er more delighted than when they hear better men than 
 themselves abused. It is an infirmity of our natures in- 
 deed, to like slashing, whether the lacerations are in- 
 flicted by pen or tongue. Could Melanchthon come to 
 Boston next Sunday and preach, the mild Reformer 
 would not please the u pensive public" so much as The- 
 odore Parker. No, the healthy appetite /in too many of 
 us is vitiated, and we must have our mental aliment fla- 
 
PEN-PICTUKES. 143 
 
 vored with pungent condiments before we can take it 
 down. With this sort of food, digestion has little to do 
 the crudities pass, and leave no nourishment behind. 
 
 Many of Mr. Parker's sermons are essays in the 
 strictest sense. Others are dissertations on political 
 economy ; and many are acute criticisms on men, man- 
 ners and morals. They all evince much erudition and 
 varied scholarship. What George Gilfillan said of the 
 style of Dawson, the celebrated English Lecturer, may 
 be said of Theodore Parker's: " Its strength lies in its 
 Saxonism ; it is as if Cobbett were talking Transcenden- 
 talism ; it is a strong energetic style ; it is plain and gro- 
 tesque ; it is the Monk Bede, translating Goethe, or Cole- 
 ridge, for the benefit of his conntrymen ; it is like a 
 carving of Carlyle set on a corbel, or in a niche of an 
 old Saxon minuter. *; 
 
 Mr. Parker, again, is brimful of knowledge of histor- 
 ical and biographical parallels, of all ancient sa\^s, and * 
 all modern instances ; full to overflowing of language, 
 and the power to use it; in climax, in antithesis, in allit- 
 eration, in poetry, or in declamation ; full of wit biting 
 wit ; full of remembrances from the old dramatists, and 
 he has Shakspeare almost by heart ; full of love for all 
 new, good books : poetry, philosophy, politics ; every lec- 
 ture, every speech, heaves like an ocean wave, yet we 
 see that, like the ocean wave, it is often not only rich for 
 what it is in itself, but for w r hat it flows over, too ; and 
 you feel, therefore, while you listen, that it is no effort 
 for him to speak like that. He hangs the wreath of lit- 
 erature around the abstractions of politics, entwines 
 
144 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 transcendentalism and German philosophy with every- 
 day matters, and infuses the genius of poetry into the 
 doctrines of Adam Smith and John Mill. He does not I 
 turn up new truths, but he labors hard to convert the I 
 arid wastes of political economy and science into a flower 
 garden. 
 
 It is natural enough that he whose hand is so often lift- 
 ed up against other men should be, in his turn, assailed. 
 One writer asserts that " whatever may be said of him 
 by his friends to the contrary, his true rank as a theo- 
 logian is with the old English Deist." And Orestes A. 
 Brownson says in his review : 
 
 " He [Mr. P.] has learning, wit 5 eloquence ; but he 
 is neither strong nor amiable. He has a little dash of 
 sentimentalism ; but he has not the large, loving heart. 
 He has no consideration for others, no self-forgetfulness, 
 no disinterestedness, no generosity. He can never un- 
 derstand what he owes to an opponent, and has nothing 
 but sarcasm and abuse for those who differ from him. 
 He attacks every class of the community, denounces 
 every doctrine and institution not in accordance with his 
 private reason, and when called upon to defend his own 
 course, he either takes refuge in undignified silence, or 
 
 \ x replies with a repetition of his sarcasm and abuse ; he 
 denies all authority, and then frets and scolds, or whines 
 and whimpers because he is not listened to as a divinely 
 commissioned teacher. He proclaims the absolute right 
 of private judgment in all men, and then regards him- 
 
 * self as personally attacked, insulted, abused, persecuted, 
 if others exercise the right of private judgment against 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 145 
 
 the doctrines he puts forth. He denies the authority of 
 the Church, of the Bible, Apostles, and even our Lord 
 himself, and yet feels that we do him great wrong when 
 we refuse to accept his utterances as divine oracles, and 
 to bow down to him as more than Bible, Church, Proph- 
 et, Apostle or Messiah, and worship him as the Incarnate 
 God. His pride blinds his judgment, and prevents him 
 from seeing that if there is any hostility to him person- 
 ally in this community, it is provoked by his own selfish- 
 ness and arrogance, by his own want of proper con- 
 sideration for others, and neglect of the ordinary courte- 
 sies of civilized life. * * * We never read any writings 
 which were more despotic in principle, or which contain- 
 ed lels of the spirit of true liberty, than those of Mr. 
 Parker. There is liberty on his tongue, but none in his 
 heart ; there is in words the proclamation of brotherhood 
 in spirit there is only rancor, hatred, bitterness, spite. 
 Asserting the absolute freedom of opinion, he denounces 
 in the 0y.erest terms all who do not agree with him : con- 
 tending for the utmost freedom of action and the recti- 
 tude of all human conduct, he denounces as monsters of 
 iniquity all who do not square their lives by the arbitrary 
 rules he chooses to lay down. Asserting in lofty terms 
 the infallibility of all huraan nature in all ages and na- 
 tions, he holds all men but himself to have fallen into 
 damnable errors, and to deserve to be compassionated 
 as fools, or to be execrated as the enemies of God and man. 
 " We confess, and we are sorry to be obliged to confess, 
 that we cannot regard Mr. Parker as either a strong or 
 a truthful man. He is not a man of broad and elevated 
 13 
 
146 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 views, of high and generous alms, of a frank and noble 
 nature ; in his most serious efforts and loftiest aspirations 
 there is always something low, something mean, some- 
 thing paltry. We always find something sinister and 
 something cowardly in every page of his writings, or, at 
 least something weak and spiteful, and he is the last man 
 of our acquaintance to whom we could award the high 
 praise he most covets that of true manliness." 
 
 But Mr. Brownson is no " oracle." A writer in the 
 Christian Repository, says : 
 
 " Whatever may be said truthfully of Mr. Parker, 
 even if as inconsistent as the above extracts make him, 
 the bigoted and self-conceited 0. A. Brownson ought 
 not thus to denounce him. As a sample of Mf. B.'s 
 bigotry and dogmatic disposition, we give the following 
 from his published writings, which shows the ill nature 
 of the man. A fiend from the fabled region of Tartarus 
 could have no more of hate and rancor in hiijltyil, than 
 does this Romish oracle. Take the follo^Sfr^as a 
 sample, which evinces that Brownson dips his pen in 
 gall." u Protestants do not study for truth, and are 
 never to be presumed willing to accept it, unless it 
 chances to be where they wish it. * * * They have no 
 sense of responsibleness, no loyalty to truth, no mental 
 chastity, no intellectual sincerity. * * They are, under 
 the point of religion and philosophy, wholly rotten, and 
 from the sole of the foot to the crown of the head, there 
 is no soundness in them. * * * If you find a candid 
 Protestant, you may safely conclude he lacks intelli- 
 gence, as when you |ind an intelligent Protestant, you 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 147 
 
 may be sure he lacks candor. * * * Finding the essence 
 of Protestantism to be mere vulgar pride, that it is a 
 mortal disease, rather than an intellectual aberration, it 
 is evident we are. to treat it as a vice, rather than an 
 error, and Protestants as sinners, rather than as simple 
 unbelievers or misbelievers. * * * We honor them quite 
 too much, when we treat them as men whose heads are 
 wrong, but whose hearts are right: the wrongness of 
 th6 head is the consequence of rottenness of the heart." 
 These citations are from a book published about a year 
 since by Mr. B., and dedicated to the Virgin Mary. In 
 thfr number of the Eeview for April last, the leaders of 
 the Protestant Reformation are thus stigmatized : " They 
 were all either renegade priests and apostate monks, or 
 princ^Riotorious for their vices, their crimes and brutal 
 tyranny. There is not one of the prominent leaders of 
 the Reformation in whom you can discover a single re- 
 deeminj^fnloral feature. Luther, Melanchthon, Zuingle, 
 Far el-, ""Calvin, Beza, Cranmer, as well as the princes 
 who protected them and supported their cause by their 
 arms and their policy, were men who exhibited in their 
 lives at least, from the moment of their revolt against 
 the Church, not a single Christian, and scarcely a single 
 heathen virtue." The man who can utter such whole- 
 sale vituperations indiscriminately against the whole 
 Protestant world, ought not to denounce Mr. Parker as 
 self-conceited or assumptive." 
 
 The writer in the Repository whom I have already 
 quoted says : 
 
 " As it regards Mr. Parker, he undoubtedly does a 
 
148 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 very good work in castigating the naughty and incon- 
 ., sistent politicians. His irony and sarcasm come in very 
 well while dealing with them. As it respects devotional 
 piety, the world will never be much indebted to him for 
 its promotion. There is too large a vein of unbelief in 
 his nature, and it is too fully developed in his writings 
 and teachings, to entitle him, theoretically, to be regard- 
 ed as a Christian teacher. We do not by this mean to 
 say any thing against his character. But this we do 
 know, that a man may teach the greatest absurdities for 
 truth, and still be a moralist. Those who regard Mr. 
 P. as a model preacher of the Christian theory, may be 
 somewhat mistaken. In our admiration of a man, it is 
 well not to swallow down his errors thoughtlessly.^ 
 
 " As for Mr. Brownson, he is what he is. W^Pwe a 
 believer in election and reprobation, we should believe 
 he was born to be damned eternally. The devil him- 
 self, according to fabulous theology, was not more of an 
 arch apostate than is 0. A. Brownson. He rebels 
 against light, in giving utterance to his damnable here- 
 sies, and to the Anti- American principles which disgrace 
 every number of his Review. He is an able writer, and 
 might, if he would, do much service for the cause of 
 humanity and the cause of revealed religion. So far as 
 at the present time he exerts an influence, he deserves 
 the anathemas of his countrymen. If not a Monoma- 
 niac, he knows better than to utter the contemptible 
 sentiments to which he is constantly giving utterance. 
 We hope his mind will yet be delivered from the gall of 
 bitterness and bond of iniquity in which it is now im 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 149 
 
 mersed, that instead of remaining a misanthropist, 
 liberal sentiments may once more get possession of his 
 heart, and that he may appear, as he ought to appear, 
 clothed in his right mind." 
 
 In private life few men command more esteem, and 
 indeed admiration, than Mr. Parker. As a citizen he is 
 blameless, and many a story is told, and truly told, of 
 his active benevolence. What he preaches he practises, 
 and that cannot be said of all who occupy the pulpit. 
 Let us conclude this sketch, which space compels us to 
 cramp, with a story they tell here, which may or may 
 not be true. In these days, however, when Mrs. Par- 
 tington's sayings are popular, it may, at least be told. 
 
 As two ancient ladies were coming out of the Music 
 Hall, after service, one of them observed to the other, 
 " Don't you think Mr. Parker as great a man as Christ ? 
 I do." " No," replied the other, " Oh no, not so great 
 as that but I'll tell you what I think he is as great 
 as Anti-Christ." 
 
 13* 
 
150 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OE, 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 OLD DIVINES. COMPARISON BETWEEN SOUTH AND LY- 
 MAN BEECHER. MR. LOVEJOY's SUCCESSOR. DR. BEECH- 
 ER'S PERSONAL APPEARANCE. FRAGMENTS OF HIS EARLY 
 HISTORY. 
 
 VERY fond am I, now and then, of taking down from 
 its shelf some old folio, containing the -works of Baxter, 
 Howe, Henry Smith, Chillingworth or Jeremy Taylor. 
 I cannot explain how or why it is, but I never can relish 
 the works of these worthies so keenly in mordernized 
 editions. Hot pressed paper, dainty gildings and legible 
 types seem not to consort with their quaint matter. 
 There are some books, indeed, that should never be read 
 but in black letter, or in the original editions. Burton's 
 Anatomy of Melancholy is one of them ; to enjoy that 
 rare work I must have ifc on time-tinted yellow paper, 
 the letters of an antique rudeness, the fly-leaves covered 
 with crabbed autographs of former possessors ; if mar- 
 ginal notes be appended, so much the better ; and all 
 bound in boards real oaken boards thick, and 
 covered with honest brown leather its back being 
 adorned by huge ridges, and its sides guiltless of book- 
 binders' " tooling." When one chances to be in a con- 
 templative mood, such a book is a treasure. 
 
PEN-PICTUKES. 151 
 
 The other day, while hunting for a stray book, I came 
 upon a folio copy of South's sermons. Long had it lain 
 by neglected, but now I reverently drew it from its dingy 
 recess, and gladly renewed my acquaintance with the 
 old English preacher. It was evening, a Sabbath even- 
 ing, and the racy, pungent style of the author of the 
 book accorded well just then with the tone of my mind, 
 for I had on the morning of that day listened to the 
 preaching of one who not a little resembled South. He, 
 too, was an old divine, though, I am happy to say, not 
 yet numbered with the past. Still he lives, though more 
 than the allotted term of life has been granted him ; and 
 long may he yet labor, for the world has need of the 
 services of Lyman Beecher. 
 
 Yes ; Dr. Beecher reminds me of South. He has, 
 though, more heart than that preacher, more sympathy ; 
 he has mi, the venomous and satiric tooth of the old 
 renegade, if he has not so much loftiness of conception j 
 but still thj^ points of resemblance between them are 
 manifold. ^Both of them characterize their discourses 
 largely by wit and humor, and do not disdain to rouse 
 their audiences occasionally by a something more per- 
 ceptible than a smile. South constantly distilled his 
 best thoughts, even in preaching, into epigrams; and 
 Beecher flings not unfrequently th^epigrams out upon 
 his congregation. Both of them gromasters of original 
 and striking thought, amplified by numerous ideas and 
 illustrations. I can very easly imagine Dr. Beecher 
 giving utterance to such sentiments as the following, 
 the old, impotent, silver-haired sinner described as " the 
 
152 PULPIT PORTRAITS : OR, 
 
 broken and decrepit sensualist, creeping to the devil on 
 all fours ; a wretch so scorned, so despised, and so 
 abandoned by all, that his very vices forsake him." Of 
 dunces occupying prominent situations, old South says : 
 " If owls will not be hooted at, let them keep close with- 
 in the tree, and not perch upon the upper boughs." 
 Pride he defines to have been the Devil's sin, and the 
 Devil's ruin, and has been ever since the Devil's strata- 
 gem, who, like an expert wrestler, usually gives a man a 
 lift before he gives him a throw." Speaking of the 
 human heart, he says : " no one knows how much villany 
 lodges in this little room." Now as we could imagine 
 Dr. Beecher uttering many of these things, we could 
 very well conceive South uttering many of the pithy 
 aphorisms and sentiments with which Dr. Beecher flavors 
 his sermons. But the Doctor does not print his wit, he 
 utters it and leaves it ; and most of his publish* papers 
 are quite free from that with which his puMt services 
 abound ; added to \yhjch there is a peculiaij^femerism 
 in the preacher, "hu&orous, sometimes co^rt, sly and 
 glancing, and sometiriies bold ^nd-eqpeh, 'which are not 
 without their influence oh his popularity. 
 
 But before I further describe Dr. Beecher's mental 
 features, suppose we take a glance at the man himself, 
 as he appears in t^teear of grace, one thousand, eight 
 hundred and fifty-t^K. 
 
 Let us travel, dear reader, as far as Cambridgeport, 
 for there, on this Sabbath morning, the Doctor is to 
 preach. He is not just now the pastor of any particular 
 flock, but he has been elected to fill, for a time, the 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 153 
 
 pulpit of the church in which the Rev. Mr. Lovejoy 
 formerly officiated. Every one remembers that the latter 
 named gentleman had to quit it, in consequence of his 
 having advocated the repeal of the Massachusetts Liquor 
 Law in the State House. As if to mark their disappro- 
 bation of this conduct the more strongly, the congrega- 
 tion installed in the vacant pulpit the Nestor of the tem- 
 perance movement, Dr. Lyman Beecher. Scarcely had 
 the voice of the defender of the traffic in intoxicating 
 drinks ceased to sound within the sacred walls, when the 
 tones of its most uncompromising opponent were echoed 
 from them. A more striking exhibition of the popular 
 sentiment on a momentous subject was never made. 
 
 We are, then, snugly secured in our seat in the church 
 alluded to. Already is it filled, and the preacher as- 
 cends to the pulpit. Now look well #t him, reader, for 
 he is a man of mark. If you be young, daguerreotype 
 every line and limb on the plate of your memory ; for 
 when that venerable man shall in the course of nature 
 be resting from his labor, you may, in future days, love 
 to recall those lineaments, and say : " I saw and heard 
 the author of the * Six Short Sermons.' " 
 
 Like many *&&er men who, by indomitable energy, 
 have achieved greaT triumphs, Dr. Beecher is a little 
 man. So was Isaac Watts, so w^BLlexander Pope, so 
 was Napoleon, so was Wellington.^^he Davids of our 
 race, in whom lay so much power, unsuspected as well 
 by themselves as by others, have been the greatest vic- 
 tors in the world's physical and moral conflicts. Yet 
 small as the Doctor's figure is, it is well knit, close and 
 
154 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 compact. How much vigor there yet remains in every 
 muscle. What, then, must have been their vitality half 
 a century ago ? But the head and face look at them. 
 The head is large for the size of the frame which it sur- 
 mounts, and it is thickly, aye, abundantly covered with 
 iron gray hair, although, our life on it, the locks have 
 never been anointed with bear's grease, or any of the 
 thousand and one hair preservers that beaux and belles 
 patronize. This hair is combed from the forehead and 
 temples, and "running toward the back of the head, it 
 there terminates in a cluster which somewhat resembles 
 a small full-bottomed wig of the time of the third 
 George. The face is remarkably striking. A queer 
 
 5^ and fanciful book, recently published by Dr. Redfield, 
 which treats of the resemblances between thcTfacesTof 
 men and those of animals, gives parallel pictures of Dr. 
 Beecher's face and that of a lion, and its author de- 
 clares that many of the courageous, magnanimous and 
 powerful qualities of the king of beasts belong to the 
 man. Now, although I cannot see much resemblance 
 between the physiognomies of the brute monarch and 
 the Christian minister, I willingly concede that both 
 have in common great power and considerable influence. 
 
 "X The ejes are of light Jxlue,' with a grayish tint. The 
 nose is large, lo^jl^id rather prominent; the mouth 
 wide, and markec^m about with the lines of decision. 
 As for the forehead, it is high and broad. The com- 
 plexion is florid, remarkably so for a man who has 
 passed his three score and ten years, and the whole ex- 
 pression is that of a man of vast energy, determination 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 155 
 
 and perseverance. The only man I ever saw to whom, 
 in point of personal appearance, he bears a close resem- 
 blance, was the late KowlaniLJIill, and in the constitu- ) \ 
 tion of his mind, also, Dr. Beecher is far from unlike the ) / 
 venerable English Divine./. "~ 
 
 And here, as |fe| 'Beecher family are more widely 
 known than any offer family assembly in these United 
 States, I must be excused if I deviate somewhat from my 
 usual custom, for the purpose of furnishing some account 
 of the antecedents of its venerable head, partly drawn 
 from his own account, which he contributed to a volume 
 of memoirs, of the class of 1797, edited by Dr. Mur- 
 dock, of New Haven, and partly from an interesting ar- 
 ticle in the American Phrenological Journal. 
 
 Lyman Beecher was born in New Haven, Connecticut, 
 Oct. 12, 1775, and is consequently seventy-eight years 
 of age. He drew his first breath in a dwelling which is 
 still standing in New Haven, on the cprner of George 
 and College streets. Some ancestral traits will be of in- 
 terest, at least to those curious m psychological herald- 
 ry. The Beecher blood was dashed with hypochondria. 
 Dr. Beecher himself, his father, and his grandfather, 
 were, in early life, great sufferers from that cause. But 
 in each case, it was confined principally to early life, and 
 wore out with years, leaving a serene, and cheerful old 
 age. All his ancestors were devout and professedly re- 
 ligious men. Dr. Beecher's great-grandmother was the 
 daughter of a full-blooded Welsh woman, a Roberts* 
 Thus the blood of the Beechers received a happy mix- 
 ture of Welsh blood, with its poetry and music, and its 
 
156 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 insatiable and intolerable love of genealogy ; for no 
 Welshman ever lived who had not a clear genealogical 
 turnpike opened up to Adam's very front dooryard. 
 
 Dr. Beecher's own mother was a Lyman^ a family 
 whose blood was joyous, sparkling, hopeful, and against 
 all rebuffs and disappointments, ho^p still. He was a 
 seven months child and extremely feeble. His mother 
 died four days after his birth. Her sister, Mrs. Lot 
 Benton, of 'North Guilford, having no children of her 
 own, took Lyman, at about three months of age, and 
 kept him in her family until he was fitted for college, 
 which was about his eighteenth year. 
 
 Lot Benton was a thorough original; a great, kind 
 heart: hedged about at times with the affectation of 
 scolding and ill-humor, but never was he reported, and 
 never was he a scolding, ill-natured man. Whoever ask- 
 ed a kindness of him surely got it, and a good deal more 
 besides. If one came to borrow a hoe, " why don't you 
 have hoes of your own ; what do you hang on to your 
 neighbors for ? Herdbcome back ; take the hoe, will 
 ye ? but I suppose you never will return it, you will 
 break it, I guess." On one occasion Lyman Beecher was 
 driving an ox team so as nearly to graze a plough which 
 lay upon the ground. " There, there, Lyman, you have 
 run over that plough and broke it all to pieces." " Why, 
 uncle Lot, I haven't touched the plough." " Well, I'd 
 a great deal rather you had, than to have gone so near it." 
 
 The following story is told of young Lyman Beecher : 
 
 One day while gathering apples in an orchard, Uncle 
 Lot said, " Lyman, should you like to go to college ?" 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 157 
 
 No reply was made, and the work went on. The next 
 day, as they were busy at the same work, Lyman said, 
 " I think I should like to go to college." Nothing more 
 was said on either side. But the lad was forthwith pre- 
 pared for studying. Two years of preparation in these 
 days sufficed fomentering college. He entered Yale 
 College under the presidency of Dr. Dwight, in Sep- 
 tember, 1793, at the age of eighteen. 
 
 Those who know the Dr. Beecher of to-day will easily 
 believe in this anecdote of him in his student days : 
 
 One night Mr. Beecher was awakened by a sound at 
 his window, as if some one were drawing cloth through 
 a broken pane of glass ; springing up, he dimly saw his 
 clothes disappearing through the broken window ; a thief 
 having taken a fancy to them. Waiting for no ceremo- 
 nies of toilet, he dashed out after him. The rascal drop- 
 ped the clothes at once, and put himself to his best speed. 
 But Lyman was not to be easily out-run, especially when 
 thus stripped to the race. After turning several corners, 
 the caitiff was seized and m^H|d back by the eager 
 student. He ushered him inWus room, compelled him 
 to lie down on the floor by the side of his bed while he, 
 more comfortably ensconced in the bed, lay the night 
 long watching him, the silence being broken only by 
 an occasional " lie still, sir" 
 
 In the morning the culprit was taken before a magis- 
 trate, who was evidently a lineal descendant of Justice 
 Shallow. The magistrate, after hearing the particulars, 
 asked Mr. Beecher " whether in turning the corners he 
 lost sight of the man at all." He replied that he was 
 14 
 
 Vft 
 
158 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 out of sight but a second, for he was close upon him. 
 " Ah, well, if you lost sight of him at all, then you can- 
 not swear to his identity," and so the man was discharg- 
 ed. Mr. B. met the fellow several times afterward, but 
 could never catch his eye. 
 
 Of Dr. Beecher's earliest marrijge we need not 
 speak. His first six children were born at East Hamp- 
 .ton, L. I., where he amused himself in the intervals of 
 labor with fishing and hunting. He then removed to 
 Litchfield, and there, he says, passed the most laborious 
 portion of his life. 
 
 It was while at Litchfield that Dr. Beecher recom- 
 mended total abstinence, as a remedy for intemperance, 
 earlier, it is supposed, than any other one. As early as 
 1811, the General Association of Connecticut, had ap- 
 pointed a committee to report what could be done to stay 
 the progress of intemperance. That report was made, 
 and after lamenting the wide-spread danger, discourag- 
 ingly said, that there seemed to be no remedy. Dr. 
 Beecher immediately ^Bred that a committee be ap- 
 pointed to report instanrer, a remedy for intemperance. 
 He was made chairman, and reported resolutions, recom- 
 mending the immediate and entire abandonment of dis- 
 tilled spirits by individuals and in all families as a beve- 
 rage, or as a matter of courtesy, or as an adjunct to la- 
 bor. The resolution was carried, and this, it is believed, 
 was the first step taken in the great history of Total 
 Abstinence. 
 
 The famous six sermons upon Intemperance were first 
 written and preached in Litchfield. A very dear friend 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 159 
 
 of Dr. Beecher, living about four miles from the church, 
 became intemperate. This fact moved all his affection 
 and zeal. The six sermons were born of a heart full of 
 love and grief, and although this did not save the man 
 whose case inspired them, they have, doubtless, saved 
 millions of others, and are still read in almost every lan- 
 guage in the civilized world. 
 
 In his memoir before referred to, the Doctor touch- 
 ingly says : 
 
 " In my domestic relations, my cup of mercy, t 
 not unmingled with bitterness in the death of two 
 loved wives, two infants, and an adult son in the minis- 
 try, has nevertheless been filled with pure, copious and 
 habitual enjoyment, especially in the early conversion 
 of my children, and their blessed affection for me and 
 usefulness in the Church of God." 
 
 In the prime of Dr. Beeeher's life, there was, it is 
 said, in his discourses and speeches " an admirable . 
 mingling of reasoning, fact, wit, emotion and pathos. < 
 These qualities were not pre-arranged, but spontaneous ; 
 they were not in the sermon so prepared, but in the 
 heart that prepared it." 
 
 Thus far I have but glanced at some features of Dr. 
 Lyman Beecher's past history. In the next chapter I 
 shall conclude my notice of him by a sketch of a laborer 
 of our own time. 
 
160 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 DR. LYMAN BEECHER, CONTINUED. ANECDOTES. HIS 
 TACT. REMARKS ON HIS STYLE. 
 
 FROM an early stage of Dr. Beecher's career, he was 
 afflicted with an irritable stomach, which, at some periods, 
 threatened to lay him aside from the ministry. And 
 nothing but the most skilful care of his own health, ena- 
 bled him, through a long life, to go through labors which 
 seem almost incredible. At East Hampton, on Long 
 Island, he was familiar with every bay and fishing ground, 
 and with every cove where wild fowl resorted. At Litch- 
 field, Ct., he resorted to the soil, without forsaking the 
 rod and the gun, for exercise and health. In Boston, 
 he rowed in the harbor ; sawed his own wood ; brought 
 home his marketing, for the sake of the exercise of car- 
 rying a basket. Dr. Beecher became quite an adept in 
 filing and setting saws. Much of his studying was done 
 over his saw, or with file in hand. On one such occasion 
 he said, " The way to write easy is to get all your think- 
 ing done first, and then let the hot metal out into the 
 mould of your plan," having in his mind the idea of metal- 
 casting. When the weather was bad, the Doctor resort- 
 ed to his cellar, where several loads of sand were stored, 
 which were lustily shovelled from one side of the cellar 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 161 
 
 to the other like many metaphysical disputes and casu- 
 istries sand at best, and by discussion only changed in 
 place. He walked quick, worked quick, thought quick, 
 and wrote quick. His absorption in thought gave rise to 
 absgjtt-mindedness and to forge tfulness, frequently to 
 ludicrous stories. On several occasions he entered his 
 neighbors' Jiouses^nJBo^ton^^^ Hundreds of 
 
 stories related of the Doctor are mere fictions, or ascrip- 
 tions to him of things belonging to other men. He once 
 said, " if I should write my own life, the first volume 
 should contain the things which I didjioljfo and did not 
 say" Nevertheless, not a few are authentic. 
 
 In a trip along the coast of Connecticut, in a small 
 craft, for his health, being detained by baffling winds, it 
 was in the midst of church service, on a Sabbath morn- 
 ing, that he landed at a village where only the clergy- 
 man knew him. He was in full sea-rig. His entrance 
 to the audience-room attracted no attention. But when, 
 during the prayer, after sermon, he walked up the aisle, 
 and began to ascend -the pulpit steps, all eyes were on 
 him. The young people tittered, and the tithing men 
 began to look authoritative, as if business was on hand. 
 The officiating clergyman, at the close of his prayer, 
 cordially shook him by the hand, to the growing surprise 
 of spectators, not lessened by the Doctor's rising to 
 make some u additional remarks." " When I began," 
 we once heard the Doctor say, " I eould see all the good 
 and sober people looking rather grave at such an ap- 
 pearance, while all the young people winked at each 
 other, as if they expected some sort. But it was not long 
 14 
 
162 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 before I saw the old folks begin to look up and smile, 
 and the young folks to look sober." If any one has 
 heard Dr. Beecher, in one of his best moods, in an ex- 
 temporaneous outburst, they can well imagine with what 
 power an application would come from him, and how the 
 sudden transitions of feeling, and the strange contrasts 
 between his weather-beaten appearance and Amman's 
 garb, and his impassioned eloquence, would heighten the 
 effect. When he concluded, he turned to the pastor and 
 said : " How could you have such a grand sermon wifch- 
 out any application ? " "I wrote out the body of the 
 sermon, meaning to ^temporize the application, but after 
 you came in it was scared out of my head." 
 
 The finest efforts of his mind are not in his writings, 
 l but were unexpectedly thrown out in the inspiration of 
 v speech, or in conversation. Many apothegms and con- 
 densed sentiments, if recorded, would become popular 
 proverbs. 
 
 When about seventy-five years of age, he spent a 
 fortnight in the eastern part of Maine. A party of 
 gentlemen, at Calais, went with him, some thirty miles 
 up a series of lakes to Indian territories. When about 
 to embark upon a chain of lakes in the birch canoes, the 
 Indian guide, ^tienne, rathe? objected to so old a man 
 attempting the adventure, fearing that he would give 
 out. The Doctor rowed with the best of the young- 
 sters ; caught more trout than all the party together, 
 and returned each day from the various tramps, in the 
 lead ; ate his fish on a rock, with a sea-biscuit for a 
 trencher, and fingers for knives and forks ; slept on the 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 163 
 
 ground upon hemlock branches under the tent, and, at 
 length, the Indian guide went from the extreme of de- 
 preciation to the highest expression of admiration in his 
 power, saying, " Ah ! old man, all Indian ! " 
 
 While residing on Long Island, in early life, he was 
 returni^Bhome just at evening from a visit to old Dr. 
 WoolweraP; seeing what he thought, in the dark, to 
 be a rabbit by the road-side, a little ahead, he reasoned 
 with himself: "They are rather tender animals if 
 the fellow sits still till I come up, I think I could hit 
 him with these books," a goodly bundle of which he had 
 in his handkerchief. Hit him, he surely did ; only it 
 proved to be not a rabbit, but a skunk. The logical con- 
 sequences followed, and he returned to his family in 
 anything but the odor of sanctity. In after life, being 
 asked why he did not reply to a scurrilous attack which 
 had been made upon him, the Doctor answered : " I dis-Nj\ 
 charged a quarto, once, at a skunk and I then made 
 up my mind never to try it again." 
 
 During the prevalence of a revival in his church, in 
 Boston, the number of persons desiring religious conver- 
 sation was so great, sometimes amounting to several 
 hundreds, that he was accustomed to employ younger 
 clergymen to assist him. %, On one occasion f. young 
 Andoverian was conversing with a person who believed 
 herself to be converted, wifBh the Doctor'^hearing. 
 The young man was probing the grounds of her evi- 
 dence, and among other questions, was overheard-asking 
 the lady if she " thought that she was willing to be 
 damned for the glory of God." Instantly starting up, 
 
164 
 
 the Doctor said to him : " What was that you were ask- 
 ing ? " "I was asking her if she should be willing to 
 be damned for the glory of God." " Well, sir, would 
 you be willing ? " " Yes, sir, I humbly hope I should 
 be." " Well, then, sir, you ought to be damned,'! And, 
 afterwards, he took occasion to enlighten him tol better 
 theology. 
 
 Anecdotes and incidents of this kind might be multi- 
 plied ad infinitum, but they would be more in place in a 
 regular biography, than in a mere outline sketch, such 
 as this professes to be. So quitting reminiscent mate- 
 rial, let me come to the man of to-day to the Lyman 
 Beecher of eighteen hundred and fifty-three. 
 
 And by chance we behold him as he is threading his 
 way through the bustle of Washington street. There 
 he goes sturdily along, scorning the aid of walking stick 
 or umbrella; curious people now and then turning to 
 throw a glance at his hale, hearty-looking face, and gray 
 hairs. " That 's Harriet Beecher Stowe's father," says 
 one. " There goes the father of Henry Ward Beecher," 
 remarks another. " That is the man who wrote the 
 4 Six Short Sermons,'" murmurs a third, and so on he 
 goes, noticed by many, seeming to notice none. You 
 see now that his eye is not * dim, and that his natural 
 force is not much abated, Chough seventy-eight summer 
 suns, an<^he same numb^Pof wintry snows, have shone 
 upon and drifted around that venerable head. Neither 
 have his mental energies greatly diminished. 
 
 To see Dr. Beecher to advantage out of the pulpit we 
 should notice him at a meeting of one of the many 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 165 
 
 committees of which he is a member supposing a diffi- 
 culty should have occurred. Dr. Beecher intuitively 
 sees where that difficulty lies, and his strong energetic 
 mind grapples with it at once. By a few brief words he 
 disentangles the thread of the subject, makes it as clear 
 as dayligfit, and deprives it in an instant of all its diffi- 
 culty. There has been no waste of words, no hesitation, 
 but action. It is Columbus setting the egg on its end 
 over again, and as the companions of the illustrious 
 Genoese stared at each other in stupid wonder at the 
 simplicity of the operation, so perhaps the committee 
 marvel that they never saw the subject from the Doctor's 
 point of view before. It is this practical talent which 
 makes Dr. Beecher so valuable in working out moral re- 
 forms. His strong common sense, his astuteness and his 
 great sagacity, stand him in better stead than the em- 
 bellishments of poetry, or the graces of rhetoric. 
 Above all, his principles are uncompromising. Fearless 
 of opposition, he only studies what is right, and the right 
 he struggles for manfully. And yet there is no assump- 
 tion of superiority, although he speaks as one whose 
 long experience entitles him to be considered an au- 
 thority. 
 
 We have intimated that the sayings of Dr. Beecher are 
 frequently very quaint. For instance, when preaching once 
 on justification by works, he remarked : " If I kill a man 
 to-day, and save a man from drowning to-morrow, will 
 the saving the one do away with the guilt of killing the 
 other ?" Again, " God will not keep those who do not 
 strive to keep themselves. The devil keeps those who 
 
166 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 serve him. Cannot God keep those who serve him ? " 
 And he asks in another discourse : " Why hang your 
 hopes on a spider's thread, when you have a cable?" 
 And when speaking of the doctrine of restitution, he 
 asks : " Why go to school in hell to be fitted for 
 heaven?" We might adduce many such South-like 
 passages, but enough has been quoted. 
 
 But not only is Dr. Beecher quaint as a preacher ; he 
 does not dislike the weapons of^wityand occasional sat- 
 ire, and he can avail himself of both with terrible power. 
 When rumsellers are his adversaries, he is a fearful hand, 
 a very Sioux at skinning them always is he willing to 
 scalp the antagonist to his views on moral and religious 
 truth, either on the platform or from the press. This is 
 his forte, a power to skin an error and lay it bare to a 
 popular mind and audience. He does not descend to the 
 nicer shades of metaphysic distinction, although all his 
 published works show a power to do so. He stands by 
 and upon the eternal principles and distinctions between 
 right and wrong. He never passes out of sight of his 
 audience, and therefore to them his logic appears to de- 
 scend upon his adversary with crushing force. His hap- 
 less opponent is like an unfortunate being strapped and 
 bound to a revolving wheel, lanced by some cruel instru- 
 ment ; for, as with most men of Dr. Beecher's order of 
 mind, satire and logic are one. Many an effort has been 
 made to crush him, but as some enemy once said of 
 him to a lady : " The worst of it is, you see, madam, we 
 can bring nothing against him. If we had but some- 
 thing we could crush him directly." The worst indeed ! 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 167 
 
 I 
 
 But on the contrary, a character known, enthusiastic, 
 genuine, a character always identified with love to the 
 people and efforts for their salvation and benefit. 
 
 Is it any wonder tbfcn that the man always has had 
 and still has great power over the minds of his audi- 
 ences ? Figure him, as he stands in the pulpit, or on 
 the platform, a human rock, if you attempt to move him ; 
 a man who will smile at all opposing clamor, a man 
 whom opposition affects as much as petrifying water af- 
 fects a stone, clothing and casing in more determined 
 resolution. An eye blue as Jane sky, a complexion 
 full of the Saxon temperament, a mouth compressed 
 and full of meaning. A terrible opponent this where 
 all these varieties blend to make the character invul- 
 nerable. 
 
 I may well call the subject of my present sketch the 
 man of action, for to the pulpit and the platform his en- 
 ergies are not confined. 
 
 The press is another world in which he has moved and 
 spoken well and efficiently throughout Great Britain, as 
 well as America. He is well known by the " Six Short 
 Sermons " and by other works needless to name here. 
 All his works abound in the same plain and forcible elo- 
 quence that makes him famous among modern speakers. 
 A man of action, I said, preeminently a man of action ; 
 a man who must be doing, and who sees instantly through 
 the meaning of the thing to be done. In brief, he may 
 be generalized beneath one characterization ; he strikes 
 all who see and hear him, as eminently real ; a man 
 abominating, fastidiously abominating all show. All his 
 
168 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 faults are the faults of an earnest man. He has, per- 
 haps, no sympathy with little sorrows. Like Dr. John- 
 son, he would, perhaps, be able to expend no tears on 
 the widowed griefs of a fashionable lady, if a poor wo- 
 man left destitute with half a dozen children claimed his 
 attention. He has struggled so heartily with the world's 
 difficulties himself, has so made those difficulties of life 
 to retire before him that he cannot feel that poverty is 
 the chief ill to any man. He leads so almost stoical an 
 existence as far as world-comforts go, that it is not won- 
 derful if he should cherish a true Diogenian contempt 
 for all mournings and bewailings over the loss of them ; 
 and some of those who see this in the distance, are apt 
 to suppose a hard man, until a nearer view reveals an 
 eye not so full of sternness as tenderness, a tongue gentle 
 to every modulation of expression, and a heart an over- 
 flowing fountain of generous impulses, nor perhaps, alto- 
 gether cut off from the reservoir of tears. 
 
 Although Dr. Eeecher has arrived at that period of 
 life, when, did he consult his own ease alone, he might 
 feel himself entitled to indulge in well-earned repose, he 
 scorns such, to him, " inglorious ease," and, not abating 
 " one jot of heart and hope," still labors on, zealously 
 and effectively, for the good of mankind. His name is, 
 and forever will be linked with the great cause of tem- 
 perance, just as Washington's is associated with the de- 
 liverance of his country, or Franklin's with the discovery 
 of the identity of lightning and electricity. And 
 though, to slightly alter the language of Foster, in the 
 coming time, new and brilliant stars may appear in the 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 169 
 
 firmament of this great moral reform, all eyes will pen- 
 sively, involuntarily turn to the lingering light on the 
 horizon, when the greater luminary shall have disap- 
 peared. But long may it be ere it shall be said of our 
 venerable teacher, as of others : 
 
 
 Gone ! are they gone who brightly shone ! 
 
 Oh I gloomy, chilly night ? 
 Now left alone, we deeply moan 
 
 Their much lamented light. 
 The prophets, too ! the prophets too ! 
 
 Why do they cease to cry ? 
 Will not kind Heaven the lamp renew ? 
 
 Must, too, the prophets die ? 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 JOHN OVERTON CHOULES, D. D. EARLY RECOLLECTIONS. 
 A LIBRARY TALK. THE CHURCH AT NEWPORT. GENE- 
 RAL REMARKS. 
 
 IT must be now over thirty years since, when at a 
 " Debating and Literary Society" in the ancient city of 
 Bristol, to which, as a great favor I was admitted, why 
 or wherefore, I now know not, for at the " Debates" I 
 fancy I must have much resembled a bewildered baby. 
 15 
 
170 PULPIT PORTPvAITS: OR, 
 
 I say, it must have been thrice ten years since that I 
 first saw the gentleman whose name will be found at the 
 head of this chapter. I had not, at that time, completed 
 my " schooling," and he w r as a student in the Bristol 
 Baptist Academy, of which the well-known Dr. Ryland 
 was Principal ; and I very well remember that among 
 the sturdiest and most successful of the Debaters who 
 were, for the most part young gentlemen with more 
 ardor than judgment, and who struggled rather for the 
 glory of victory than for the sake of truths, was a youth 
 named Choules. The debates were varied by lectures 
 on various branches of science, and for me these pos- 
 sessed a greater and far more abiding interest. Should 
 the eyes of the subject of my sketch ever rest on this 
 page, it will doubtless recall those early days, when such 
 as Withers, Guppy, and himself disputed ; and when 
 men like Millard lectured on" his favorite science of En- 
 tomology. That eccentric old gentleman has long since 
 gone to where the insects he used to talk about have 
 by this time made a closer acquaintance with his frame- 
 work, than he ever did with the bodies of their ances- 
 tors. But I fancy I am shooting wide of my mark, and 
 so let me come back to my immediate topic. 
 
 The days of school passed by; I no longer had 
 the opportunities of visiting the "Inquirer Society" as 
 it was called, and consequently saw no more of the 
 Academy student. Indeed he had entirely passed from 
 my recollection ; the great waves of youthful occupation 
 in Surgery, Hospital, and Dissecting room having washed 
 from the shifting sands of the beach of memory all 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 171 
 
 traces of what had been inscribed thereupon. But fif- 
 teen or twenty years after, like one of Mr. Wilkin Mi- 
 cawber's opportunities, the Divinity Student turned up 
 again ; and, as is usual in such cases, when and where 
 he was least expected. 
 
 In the year 1844 or 5, I forget which, exactly, I was 
 dining at the hospitable table of Thomas Colley Grattan, 
 Esq., at that period Her Britannic Majesty's Consul at 
 the Port of Boston, in company with Mr. N. P. Willis, 
 Madame Calderon de Ja Barca, and some other well- 
 known writers ; the host himself being among the most 
 distinguished, when, dinner being half over, a new comer 
 was announced. Evidently he was a privileged friend 
 of the family, for his arrival only caused a slight stir, 
 and a pleasant excitement, in the midst of which there 
 came into the dining-room a gentleman dressed in cleri- 
 cal attire, with a short, stot, comfortable frame of 
 body, and apparently, a frame of mind to suit, for he 
 possessed one of the most genial and good humored 
 faces, blent with a certain shrewdness withal, that I ever 
 remember to have looked upon. I saw at once that he 
 was a brother Englishman, and if there had been in my 
 mind any doubt whatever on that point, the first " Bris- 
 tolian" tones he uttered would have dispelled it in an 
 instant. 
 
 It seemed that I too, as an Englishman, had not been 
 unrecognized, for on occasionally looking at the gentleman 
 in black, I perceived that his sharp, keen eye glanced 
 curiously over his gold spectacles at me, as if to make 
 out who and what I was. A chance word or two drop- 
 
172 PULPIT PORTRAITS : OR, 
 
 ped in the course of conversation revealed the fact thak 
 we were each of us natives of the same city in England, 
 and more than this, in certain " Pen and Ink Sketches" 
 which I was at that time publishing in the Boston Atlas , 
 I had mentioned the names of several persons, John 
 Foster, Robert Hall, and others, with whom he had been 
 on terms of personal intimacy. Under such circum- 
 stances it is not at all remarkable that an intimacy 
 should speedily have been established, for when natives 
 of the same land meet casually on a foreign soil, the 
 frigid barriers of etiquette are soon thawed down. Espe- 
 cially must such be the case when men like him of whom 
 I am writing are concerned, for I know of no man who 
 possesses more companionable qualities, or whose breast 
 contains a heart more alive to all the finer instincts of 
 humanity. Even now, as / write this, and while lie is 
 far away somewhere, in Commodore Vanderbilt's Yacht, 
 I cannot help thinking that he may probably be taking a 
 genial cigar with some friendly Turk in his Kiosk, over- 
 looking the Golden Horn, and drinking sherbet in a 
 quite at home sort of way ; or probably, (for he never 
 goes anywhere where he does not pick up a protege or 
 an old acquaintance,) he may in the exercise of his 
 clerical duties be baptizing some dearly beloved brother, 
 a convert perhaps, in the Bosphorus. 
 
 Doctor J. 0. Choules was, at the time I speak of, minis- 
 ter over a church and congregation at Jamaica Plains, 
 and there I frequently had the pleasure and the privilege 
 of hearing him preach. Since then I have heard him 
 discourse in some of the chief London pulpits, where 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 173 
 
 he was always very popular ; and the last time I was 
 present was when he preached in England, in his native 
 city to a crowded congregation, which to him must have 
 been an intensely interesting one, inasmuch as amongst 
 it were many of his early friends and associates. 
 
 But the best opportunities I ever had of hearing and 
 judging of Dr. Choules's pulpit talents was in his own 
 church in Newport, Rhode Island, where he still holds a 
 pastorate. Suppose reader we travel thither, in imagi- 
 nation, and call ui^Rbt " friend of other days," for we 
 desire to introducM ^B the man as well as to the min- 
 ister. Unfortunater^ro us, he is at this moment from 
 home, most probably engaged in some parochial duties, 
 but we meet a hearty welcome, and being privileged, are 
 installed in the Library. And be it known that it is a 
 library worthy the name, Dr. Choules being a book lover 
 of the first degree. 
 
 Charles Lamb, in one of his fascinating essays, says : 
 " I dream away my life in others' speculations. I love 
 to lose myself in other men's minds. When I am not 
 walking, I am reading ; I cannot sit and think. Books 
 think for me." 
 
 I am, just at this moment, much inclined to dream 
 away an hour or two in others' speculations also. It is a 
 dark, stormy evening without ; the driving, dashing rain 
 patters against the windows, and the wind makes mourn- 
 ful music among the elm-boughs without. But within, 
 all is light and peace. The ruddy blaze leaps up, and 
 golden vistas, and glittering caverns, and fiery dragons 
 gleam in the glowing coals. On the table stands one of 
 15* 
 
174 PULFIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 those green-shaded lamps which studious men love, and 
 all around us are books. 
 
 Books from the floor to the ceiling ; books on shelves 
 over doors ; books in niches ; books on the Oxford read- 
 ing-table ; books on the bureau-cover ; books on the 
 sofa ; books on the floor, and heaped up confusedly in 
 corners ; books on the mantle-piece ; books, indeed, 
 wherever one can be conveniently or inconveniently put. 
 Next the floor are stately old folios, some in ancient ver- 
 itable boards, with huge ridgejjjfcjjieir broad backs, 
 brazen hasps on their covers,^M Home rare ones, to 
 which are attached links of the I^R^n chain which once 
 confined them to the shelves of some suspicious old 
 library. Over these are the quartos ; then comes a row 
 of octavos ; and the higher we go the less bulky are the 
 tomes. But whether they be big or little, thick or thin, 
 ancient or modern, we, like Southey, hail them as " never- 
 failing friends," and claim boon companionship with each 
 and all. 
 
 How luxurious ! A quiet evening, a heart at peace 
 with all the world, and for our companions the embodied 
 thoughts of the great and wise of all times. As I sit 
 in my easy chair, I can, by my " so potent power," sum- 
 mon around me a glorious company of immortals, and 
 become in a certain sense a necromancer, since, in their 
 works, I hold converse with and take counsel of the 
 dead. Pleasantest of superstitions this ! Surrounded 
 by books, I ask for no other associates ; even the pres- 
 ence of the dearest friend just now would be an intrusion 
 on my vojceful yet speechless solitude. 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 175 
 
 The library in which I now sit is just such an one as I 
 am sure Elia would have rejoiced to be imprisoned in. 
 It belongs to one whose eyes twinkle at the sight of 
 black-letter, and who regards with reverence a " scarce 
 copy." An Elzivir to him is a more excellent thing than 
 the gaudiest gilded thing that ever issued from fashionable 
 publisher's shelf. Yet hath he a love, too, for choice 
 modern literature ; and dainty poetry delighteth him. I 
 mean not so much Tennysonian jingle as the solid stuff 
 of such as Dryden^a^Ben Jonson, and Marlowe, and 
 such like true poel^^^n whose sterling literary coin 
 had the ring as well as the shine. Well, such a library 
 as such a book-lover could collect with infinite pains is, 
 during a life-time, a pro tempore mine, and it is just such 
 an one to enjoy ; for although national collections of 
 books are invaluable, one cannot be said to luxuriate in 
 them as we do in a snug, well-assorted chamber of 
 learning. For my part I never could read to advantage 
 in big halls lined with learning. A Brobdignagian Bod- 
 leian is well enough to sit and quote in ; but for enjoya- 
 bility, commend me to a silent snuggery like this. 
 
 So wrapped up am I in " measureless content," that I 
 fancy, if the cricket chirping on the hearth were to be- 
 come a visible fairy, and offer me a crown, I do not 
 think I would accept the offer. I do not sigh for great- 
 ness of that kind, but kings have sighed for learned re- 
 pose. Stay : here in this splendid fourth edition of 
 Burton's " Anatomy of Melancholy," which I handle 
 lovingly, we read that " King James, in 1605, when he 
 came to see our University of Oxford, and, amongst 
 
176 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 other edifices, now went to view that famous library, re- 
 newed by Sir Thomas Bodley, in imitation of Alexander, 
 at his departure brake out into that noble speech : < If I 
 were not a King, I could be an University man ; and if 
 it were so that I was a prisoner, if I might have my wish, 
 I would desire to have no other prison than that library, 
 and to be chained together with so many good authors.' " 
 Had his Majesty been blessed with such company, he 
 would have fared far better than among the courtiers 
 who surrounded him. ^^ 
 
 The library I am now pleass^^Pprisoned in is pecu- 
 liarly rich in works on theology. But these do not 
 crowd out history, or biography, or science, or learning 
 indeed of any sort. As I sit, I see, pr seem to see, 
 looking out from the backs of the books, the spirits of 
 Shakspeare, Cervantes, Milton, Jeremy Taylor, Bunyan, 
 De Foe, and hosts of other bookmen. As the fire flashes 
 now and then, the books seem endued with vitality, and, 
 with eyes half closed and dreaming, I regard them as 
 actual living things, as brains Pythagorized into books. 
 
 And how strange it is to observe the company in which 
 some of these books find themselves ! Just opposite is 
 Hannah More cheek-by-jowl with Albert Smith's " Bal- 
 let Girl ;" and Mrs. Opie is as close as close can be to 
 the same sprightly author's " Gent." Lord Byron is 
 leaning familiarly on Sou they, apparently enjoying his 
 "Table-Talk;" and Jeremy Taylor, in a falling posi- 
 tion, is supported by an original Joe Miller. The au- 
 thor of " Paradise Lost" has got close to Robert Mont- 
 gomery's " Satan;" and Henry Smith, the silver- 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 177 
 
 tongued preacher of Elizabeth's time, is nearly crushed 
 by "Five Hundred Skeletons. of Sermons" and twenty- 
 three bulky " Pulpits." The fiercest polemics and the 
 meekest Christians, lamb-and-lign-like, stand harmoni- 
 ously on one shelf; reviewers IHr victims placidly sur- 
 vey each other from opposite corners ; High Churchmen 
 and Low Churchmen join in goodly rows ; Bonner and 
 Cranmer dwell together in unity; William Penn and 
 Napoleon Bonaparte are almost arfc-in-arm ; Cromwell 
 and Charles are at peace ; and Lord Chief Justice Jef- 
 feries seems greatly^ enjoy the society of his many 
 victims. Here kings meet their subjects without eti- 
 quette, and Alfred the Great and Bamfylde Moore 
 Carew tell each other their widely different stories; 
 Nelson and Fighting Fitzgerald fight their battles o'er 
 again; and GEORGE WASHINGTON, in close contiguity 
 to George the Third, appears to be on the best of terms 
 with that stubborn old gentleman. 
 
 I have, almost at random, selected a book which lies 
 within my arm's reach ; and lo ! here are some thoughts 
 about books, which, had I read them before, would have 
 saved me from the above speculations. And by whom 
 is this following written ? Why, by none other than the 
 owner of this very library. Hear what he says, and if 
 you do not admire its book-loving spirit, I pray you pro- 
 ceed no farther in my company. " I never," writes my 
 friend, " enter a library without a feeling of reverence 
 for the company in which I am placed. I regard a vol- 
 ume as the very spirit of its author, the actual being of 
 the man who thought it, wrote it, left it, and sent it forth 
 
178 PULPIT PORTRAITS : OR, 
 
 for all its purposes of might and mercy. " And again : 
 " What strange reflections rush upon the mind of a 
 thinking man when he gazes upon the shelves of a richly- 
 stored library! For J^tance, what queer juxtaposition 
 will authors find upo^Wbles and shelves ! Men who 
 in life were sadly hostile and divided in judgment and 
 affection, here sit down side by side. The lion and the 
 lamb, the vulture and the dove, keep quiet company. I 
 am now gazing upon Featley's "Dippers Dipt" and 
 Paget's " Heresiography " on a t^rie, while directly over 
 them I see Keach and Kiffin, TOTDS and the venerable 
 Jesse. These men wrote and controverted for all com- 
 ing ages ; and yet, no doubt, they are all happy and 
 united in fraternal love in that heaven where the spirits 
 of just men made perfect are delivered from error, pre- 
 judice, and rancor. There, on that shelf, is that glori- 
 ous folio, " Reliquiae Baxterianae," and a few niches off, 
 the " Bloody Assizes" and the life of that arrant scoun- 
 drel, George, Lord Jefferies, the supple tool of all the 
 cruelties of James the Second. Lloyd's " Worthies of 
 Charles the First's Eeign" are cheek-by-jowl with Lord 
 Nugent's capital " Life of John Hampden" and Foster's 
 " Lives of the Statesmen of the Commonwealth." Then 
 some books seem to get together by the principle of 
 elective affinity. Dr. Chalmers's works will keep close 
 by Andrew Fuller, and Jay's Sermons will be found very 
 near to old Jeremiah Burroughs." 
 
 Mark, gentle reader, how delicate, yet how sharp, is 
 the satire in this presumed companionship of Chalmers 
 and Fuller, and Jay and Burroughs; for students well 
 

 
 PEN-PICTURES. 179 
 
 enough know that the Scotch divine was not a little in- 
 debted for some of his best things to the sturdy Baptist, 
 and that Burroughs's works form, in many instances, the 
 staple of William JayWlis 
 
 Go into puHtc or priv^B ^^f cs, reader, and in 
 ninety-nine cases out of a nfl R" 011 w ^ find a 
 proportion of learned rubbig^^Such is not the case 
 here. Of such literary lumber this library is swept 
 and garnished. Let me, Jack Horfter-like, select a few 
 " plums." & 
 
 Here is a treasure-House of sweets, a mine all spark- 
 ling with precious stones ; and yet homely-enough-looking 
 is the casket which enshrines the gems, like the rough 
 jerkin which frequently covers a noble heart. It is the 
 bulky tome of Adams, who was at once the philosopher, 
 poet, and orator of the Church. Take William Shak- 
 speare, Jeremy Taylor, and Robert Hall, string their 
 separate beauties, pearl-like, on a golden thread, and 
 then you will have something like a conception of the 
 glowing style of Thomas Adams. 
 
 Another ancient volume attracts our itching fingers. 
 Not long had the printing-press been at work in the old 
 times when these black-letter pages first came into the 
 world, bearing their treasures with them. A noble 
 specimen of ancient typography this : broad margins, 
 solid-looking columns, and red initial letters. Hundreds 
 of years have passed since the rude press stamped these 
 almost immortal characters, yet they are sharp and 
 black as though they had been " pulled" but yesterday. 
 On the margins are other characters, brown and rusty, 
 
180 PULPIT PORTRAITS I OR, 
 
 but legible enough. Here and there certain portions of 
 the text are under-scored, and brief annotations are 
 placed opposite. In whose writing are these marginal 
 references ? No ^kHBuid than that of Philip Me- 
 lanchthon rested o^H ffges, and n^other face than 
 his bent over themM Brost fancy that " meek and 
 mild" Reformer's spi^Jfnear me as I touch the very 
 paper which once he touched. Verily, there is a charm, 
 a species of papyrc-%iagnetism, in sheets which the hand 
 of genius and piety has eviscerated by physical contact ! 
 I know well enough that I am coveting my neighbor's 
 goods ; but I feel strongly inclined to lay my appropria- 
 tive "claws" on certain thin volumes which occupy a 
 certain corner of this library. Were I to filch Mrs. 
 Hutchinson's trial because of its scarcity, I fear me that 
 the literary larceny would end in a trial in which I 
 should take a leading part. The abstraction of any of 
 these exceedingly rare volumes of Early Histories of 
 the New England States might consign me to the State 
 prison, and the fact of their having been a churchman's 
 property might possibly deprive me of the benefit of 
 clergy. No; I will be content to look and long, and 
 thank my stars that I have profited by these famous 
 lines, whose author is, I regret to say, unknown. Would 
 that all others beside myself were influenced by his " ut- 
 terances:" 
 
 " Steal not this book, my honest friend, 
 For fear the gallows should be your end, 
 And when yonder the Lord will say : 
 
 * Where's the book you stole away ?'" 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 181 
 
 Less attractive in externals are the russet volumes be- 
 fore -which I now stand, than many of their modern 
 neighbors who flaunt in all the glories of scarlet and 
 green, and gold ; but oh ! wl^Lnnnes of untold wealth 
 lie between tSPcovers of thSBKious little quartos and 
 duodecimos ! How quaintly slductive are the old-fash- 
 ioned title-pages ; how enticing the type ; how beautiful 
 to a schoolman's eye the rude wood-cuts which seem to 
 have been hacked, not cut, out of the wood ; how aston- 
 ishingly delightful the coppei* u effigies." As I gaze on 
 each and all, I am no longer a dweller in this book-mul- 
 tiplication age ; but by a miracle time has rolled back, 
 and, wrapped in a sad-colored cloak, topped with a 
 steeple-crowned hat, and adorned with ruffles, I am 
 standing at the window of old John Dunton, whose shop 
 in the "Poultry" bears the sign of the Black Haven, 
 gazing at his "Bloody Assizes" just out, and eyeing 
 critically the portraits of martyrs prefixed to that singu- 
 lar production, who, we are told by an inscription be- 
 neath, " all dyed in faith." I ramble, too, about 
 " Sainte Powle's" church-yard, and drop into the " Sun 
 and Bible," or The Gunne," in Fleet street, or " The 
 Angel;" for in those times signs were not peculiar to 
 hostelries. But this day-dream would seduce me too 
 far from my more immediate subject ; so I would fain 
 return to this nook of the study where, as elder brethren 
 of literature, Puritan Fathers, Non-conformists, old 
 travellers, theologians, and history-writers, stand gravely 
 side by side. 
 
 Talk of modern illustrated works ! Why, looking on 
 16 
 
J.82 PULPIT PORTRAITS: on, 
 
 some superb elephant folios which quietly repose on this 
 Oxford table, I imagine that we have not made so great 
 a progress in book-decoration as some would have us be- 
 lieve. Here is " Bath^j^^eries of vie^Lpf the city of 
 Bladud and Beau NaSBy Nattes ; an^Rf other parts 
 of England, by Smirkeland Loutherbpurg, which are 
 perfect of their kind. They are colored with the greatest 
 care, and are equal to the original water-color drawings. 
 And here, too, is that costly work, a work which could 
 only have been produced under governmental patronage 
 as this was : " An Illustrated Record of the Important 
 Events of the Annals of Europe." I question if such 
 another copy as the one before me can be found in all 
 America. Only by a rare chance came it into the posses- 
 sion of its present owner* a duplicate of it will be vainly 
 sought for, save in noble and great public libraries ; and 
 even when found in such, it forms a feature. 
 
 I now open a splendid imperial quarto edition of the 
 Life of Nelson, profusely illustrated by some enthusiastic 
 collector, with all relating to 'the great English Admiral. 
 A thousand sources must have been ransacked, a thou- 
 sand books mutilated, in order to contribute plates of 
 persons and places to this precious collection. It must 
 have been the labor of a life as well as a labor of love, 
 the illustrating of this volume, which is absolutely 
 unique. 
 
 Magnificent is this copy of Barrington's Memoirs, a 
 presentation-copy from Sir Jonah ; and almost perfect 
 the Cromwellian collection. This latter assemblage of 
 all relating to the great Protector is the most perfect, 
 
o o 
 
 But if I g^on, I shall wri^ a catal 
 panegyric, mstead of gossiping in a 
 
 PEN-PICTURES. 183 
 
 perhaps, extant ; a pretty sure indication that the col- 
 lector is a bit of hero-worshipper, a thick-and-thin ad- 
 mirer of England's greatest man. 
 
 catalogue, and pen 
 desultory way 
 about books in general. Yet must I not omit to glance 
 at the works of Bishop Brownrigg, Franke, Donne, 
 Hooker, Jackson, Bull, Reynolds, Clerk, Taylor, and of 
 Perkins, Robert Harris, Ball, Baxter, Howe, Flavel, 
 Owen, Caryl, and cropped-eared Prynne. Nor can I 
 refrain from peeping into certain cases containing pre- 
 cious autographs, and glancing with candle over-head, 
 connoisseur fashion, at the choice paintings which adorn 
 the bits of space on the walls. 
 
 Of these, there is one by" Franke, a " St. John 
 Preaching in the Wilderness," a bit of exquisite color- 
 ing ; a cabinet head of Shakspeare, an undoubted copy 
 of Vandyke. This precious gem of art lay for one 
 hundred and sixty years ii^ the family of one of the 
 early New England settlers, and was presented by a de- 
 scendant to the owner. Many- a tempting offer has been 
 made him for this effigy of the great bard by the great 
 painter ; but he is a collector of such matters for love, 
 not lucre, so he quietly listens to all proposals, and nega- 
 tives them with an appreciative smile. 
 
 # * # * * * 
 
 . ? '. 
 
 It is Sabbath morning, and a glorious morning is it in 
 the " leafy month of June." From a height overlook- 
 ing the Atlantic, where I stand drinking in with ever 
 new delight the breezes that have swept over thousands 
 
184 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 of miles of water, I hear the sound of " church-going 
 bells" that swing from steeple, tower, and turret in the 
 ancient town below. Descending, I join the good people 
 who are taking their way to one or another of the places 
 of worship, and soon arrive at a Gothrc structure of 
 large proportions whose tower stands boldly and pic- 
 turesquely up a pretty and striking feature in the land- 
 scape, as it appears from the sea. Let us enter Dr. 
 Choules's church, for such it is. It is large, spacious 
 and comfortable. A fine organ faces the pulpit, in 
 which stands already the pastor who is giving out a hymn. 
 
 And very seldom have I heard a hymn better read 
 read with so much feeling, such a just appreciation of 
 the meaning of the author. It is sung, and then a 
 chapter is read, also very beautifully, and this is a great 
 thing, for what can be so afflicting and annoying as a 
 Bible extract badly read. And yet, how often are we 
 compelled to endure such misery. Now follows a prayer 
 which is calm, solemn and truly devotional, then another 
 hymn is sung, and now comes the sermon. 
 
 It is earnest, argumentative, practical, and unmistaka- 
 bly the composition of one who has drank deeply from 
 those " pure wells of English undefiled," the works of 
 the good old Divines. There is no surface-work, no thin 
 plating of gold leaf over a mass of base metal ; all is 
 sterling and of a true mintage. Like most of the Doc- 
 tor's sermons it abounds in pungent and pithy aphorisms, 
 things which stick to the memory and often and often 
 recur, long after the sermon has been delivered. The 
 preacher speaks as one having authority, and his enlarged 
 

 PEN-PICTURES. 185 
 
 and extensive knowledge of the world and of humanity 
 in its various phases, stand him in good stead in the sa- 
 cred desk. Many of his sermons are models of compo- 
 sition; solid, sound, and scriptural. Our preacher has 
 no liking for the religious "shams" of the day, and 
 when there is a necessity, he scruples not to denounce 
 them. Delivered, as his discourses are, with great fer- 
 vor and power, they seldom fail of making a deep im- 
 pression, and the prosperity of his church, of which he 
 has more than once been pastor, is the best proof of the 
 success of his endeavors to promote their spiritual pros- 
 perity. 
 
 Few men in the Baptist denomination, nor indeed in 
 any other, are better known than is Dr. Choules. He 
 is an universal favorite, and his enlarged liberality of 
 opinion doubtless contributes to this feeling. No one 
 can be less liable to the charge of bigotry than himself. 
 While he defends his own opinions stoutly, he never at- 
 tacks, and is always courteous towards the thinkings of 
 others. The satirical maxim of Emerson, " Difference 
 from me is the measure of absurdity" is not his. He 
 regards the right of other men to think on religious mat- 
 ters, differently from himself, but his own ground he 
 keeps well guarded, and will not bate an inch of it. 
 
 Dr. Choules is w r ell known both in this country and in 
 his native land as a fine scholar and an elegant and 
 successful author. His work on the United States is a 
 standard text book. Other works we might mention, but 
 it is not necessary. He is a popular lecturer, the se- 
 ries of addresses on Cromwell having received the high 
 16* 
 
186 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 commendation of such a man as Daniel Webster. He has 
 edited magazines and religious newspapers, and to his 
 teachings have been entrusted the sons of some of the first 
 men in our community. Ever anxious to benefit those who 
 require aid, he has always opened his purse and used his 
 influence to assist struggling talent. No one who ever 
 needed his assistance applied in vain for it. Indeed, he 
 has been generous to a fault, or he might now have been 
 among the wealthiest of his class. Anything mean or 
 narrow is utterly foreign to his nature, and none should 
 know this better than the writer. But lest I should be 
 suspected of penning an eulogy, which I am not, I will 
 close by simply remarking, that, as a pastor, a scholar, a 
 man and a minister, very few persons, if any, surpass in 
 geniality, soundness, sincerity, and expansive benevolence 
 John Overton Choules. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 REMINISCENCE OF LANT CARPENTER, D. D. VISIT TO 
 FEDERAL STREET CHURCH. THE LATE DR. CHANNING, 
 DR. EZRA S. GANNETT. 
 
 " For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight ; 
 He can't be wrong whose life is in the right," 
 
 thought I, as I entered the Federal-street church a few 
 Sabbath mornings since, Pope's well-known couplet 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 187 
 
 chiming in my mind. In my young days I had been 
 taught to shun an Unitarian church as I would a " play- 
 house," which was about the next worse place to Tophet 
 itself in the estimation of the very good and very ortho- 
 dox " old folks at home." However, like the young fish, 
 who went to the baited hook just because the maternal 
 trout told it not to, I would sometimes steal away to a 
 certain Lewins Mead meeting-house, whose pulpit was in 
 those days occupied by a very celebrated Unitarian cler- 
 gyman, or minister, as such is termed in the old coun- 
 try, the distinctive appellation of clergyman being ex- 
 clusively applied to preachers of the established church. 
 
 As the English Unitarian minister to whom I allude 
 was one of the most popular of his denomination, in 
 Great Britain, and as he is well known by repute on this 
 side of the Atlantic, I fancy that an incidental sketch of 
 him may be welcome to many by whom his character and 
 genius is held in deep veneration. I allude to the Rev. 
 Dr. Lant Carpenter, for many years the eminent pastor 
 of the Unitarian church in Bristol. During the period 
 when he held that pastorate, some other pulpits of the 
 city I have named were filled by very distinguished 
 divines, chief among whom I may mention flobert Hall, 
 John RylaiM, and William Thorpe. These gentlemen 
 fully appreciated, as indeed they could not help doing, 
 the genius and "learning of Dr. Carpenter, but his creed 
 was a fatal bar against anything like friendly communion 
 with him. As in most other things, the Bristolians were 
 and are among the most illiberal and bigoted in matters 
 pertaining to religion, and to attend an Unitarian chapel 
 
188 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 was quite enough to set the seal of perdition on him or 
 her who should be guilty of so heterodox a proceeding. 
 Therefore, Dr. Carpenter found every Sunday an " audi- 
 ence fit though few ;" but his hearers prized their pastor 
 not a little, and valued his teachings at a no slight 
 estimate. 
 
 In the matter of personal appearance, Dr. Carpenter 
 was striking. He was a little man with a remarkably 
 large head, one which instinctively made you think of an 
 encyclopedia. Seldom have I seen a cranium so expan- 
 sive, yet so well balanced in its proportions as was his. 
 Very slightly covered with hair, its " developments," as 
 some might call them, were quite apparent. The best man- 
 ner in which I can give the reader some idea of the shape 
 of his head and face combined, is to request him or her to 
 reverse the popular notion of the similarity of the late 
 Louis Phillippe's head and face to a pear. In the case 
 of the monarch the stem of the fruit was uppermost, the 
 narrowest part corresponding to the forehead, and the 
 broadest to the lower portion of the face. In Dr. Car- 
 penter's face, the breadth was above, and a long peaked 
 chin terminated the visage inferiorly. He had, I think, 
 a pair of the clearest, calmest, most contemplative blue- 
 ish gray eyes that I ever saw, their mild^lnd benevo- 
 lent expression winning favor for their owner from even 
 the bitterest opponents of his faith, whenever they came 
 into personal association with him ; but this was seldom, 
 for Carpenter loved not strife, and the peaceful pur- 
 suits of theology or science, (for he was a profound 
 natural philosopher,) had more charms for him than the 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 189 
 
 bickerings of the platform, or the controversies of Chris- 
 tians, indeed, in any shape. Not that he shrank from 
 either avowal or defence of his own peculiar doctrines, as 
 his correspondence with John Foster and Robert Hall 
 sufficiently test^s, but his gentle nature was not fitted to 
 endure the " sFe of tongues." Much does it speak in 
 his favor, that in the city of Bristol, where his followers 
 were indeed but " two or three," and where Unitarian- 
 ism was held in greater abhorrence than infidelity itself ; 
 where not the vestige of charity's mantle was thrown 
 over the principles of its followers, that the man himself 
 was regarded with a no common veneration. And when 
 the tidings of his sad and mysterious death arrived from 
 Italy, a thrill went through the entire community, such 
 only as is felt when a great and good man departs. 
 
 Dr. Carpenter's preaching was of a severely simple 
 order. It might be said of him that he could not build 
 the house of great conclusions on the sands of common 
 report and familiar truths ; he could not be content with 
 shows and seemings, even of the clearest and fullest form ; 
 he was not to be satisfied with the shells awarded serious 
 thinkers by the moral monkeys of the world. He weighed 
 each portion of merchandise ; rang each piece of mental 
 coin ; scrifflized each vote tendered for truth. A propo- 
 sition uttered to him, the first effect was, not belief but 
 inquiry ; a fact stated, and he u asked questions." Pre- 
 vailing opinions, received theories, common customs were 
 fair matters, he thought, for examination ; many of them 
 he found, alas, for post mortem examination ! And the 
 tilings that were to be discovered to be true and genuine, 
 
190 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 were not the goal of his investigations, they could not 
 be received as ultimate realities ; they were surfaces, 
 counters, windows, locks, indicating, representing, re- 
 vealing, opening truth, which to him was always " the 
 great deep," " the true riches," " tl^. inner room," 
 " the hid treasure." The process waJJr course, slow, 
 but the results were blessed ; and he might well " like 
 his mind for its necessity of seeking the abstraction upon 
 every subject." Such a man's life is to be estimated 
 according to the number, not of his nights and days, 
 his eatings and drinkings, his walkings and restings, but 
 his thoughts and feelings, his ponderings and solicitudes, 
 " the visions of his head," and a the searchings of his 
 heart." 
 
 The death of Dr. Carpenter had much about it of the 
 solemn, as indeed death always has, and of the mys- 
 terious. Too close application had, in all probability, 
 produced that peculiar condition of the brain to which 
 all intensely studious men are liable. Excessive mental 
 toil caused Southey, Scott, Moore, and many other great 
 writers to feel, as Swift felt and expressed it, like a tree 
 dying at the top. And so it was with Lant Carpenter. 
 His friends perceived with sorrow dark shadows often 
 pass across that hitherto bright and uncLmled mind, 
 and soon it became evident that the only chance of his 
 ultimate recovery was absence from all labor and change 
 of scene. He went to Italy, and hopes of recovery were 
 entertained ; but one night, whilst his bark was gliding 
 through the Mediterranean, he was suddenly missed. 
 Whether, in a moment of aberration, he had precipitated 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 191 
 
 himself into its depths, or had accidentally fallen over- 
 board, can now be never known. In silence and alone 
 he passed from earth, the stars above being sole watchers 
 of the scene. A few days afterwards his body was 
 found, on a surf-smitten beach, not far distant from the 
 place where he $ras last seen alive. 
 
 It was natural enough that, as I seated myself in the 
 Federal-street church, my thoughts should revert to Dr. 
 Carpenter, for he it was who had first revealed to me, in 
 a lecture at the Bristol Philosophical Institution, the un- 
 surpassed eloquence of William Elftry Channing, of 
 whom he was an ardent and most judicious admirer. 
 And there I sat within the very shadow of the pulpit in 
 which America's most widely-known pulpit-orator was, a 
 few years ago, wont to pour out full and clear streams 
 from the fountain of his capacious mind. One of the 
 few regrets that I have experienced since I made this 
 country my home, has been that I did not reach its shores 
 in sufficient time to have heard Channing. Only the 
 written word remains, and that is much, but after all it 
 does not quite compensate for the loss of the living voice, 
 of the beaming eye, of the expressive features. Yet it 
 was something even to sit in the church made famous by 
 his minis trations, and with half-closed eyes to survey in 
 imagination that grave, earnest face, and dignified figure 
 in the pulpit which would now know it no more forever. 
 
 When a great pulpit orator dies, he generally bequeaths 
 a great difficulty to his people in the .shape of their choice 
 of a successor, for it is by no means an easy thing to do 
 away with old prejudices and ancient habits of hearing. 
 
192 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 And a rather perilous position does he occupy who stands 
 in the lately vacated pulpit ; for seldom does it happen 
 that the mantle of the ascending great man falls on shoul- 
 ders equally well able to sustain and bear it. Now and 
 then, however, it so happens that the successor of a popu- 
 lar preacher, by a rare combination of qualities, if he 
 does not completely fill the chasm made by death, yet 
 bridges it so effectually and gracefully that no 
 
 " Dreary sea now flows between." 
 
 And this I belike has been the case in respect to the 
 Rev. Dr. Gannett, and the society meeting at the Federal- 
 street church. To them the loss of Channing was, to a 
 certain extent, irreparable, but it is our consolation to 
 know that frequently when suns set, distinct and bright 
 through the purple western haze is often to be seen the 
 coming brightness of some new orb, whose beams to a 
 certain degree will compensate for the quenched light of 
 the just vanished luminary. 
 
 Dr. Gannett's pulpit appearance can scarcely fail to 
 impress the gazer with a sense of profound respect. His 
 head is bald, save on the temples, which are covered with 
 silvery hair. Dark, solemn eyes gleam from beneath 
 rather busy brows, and the whole countenance has the 
 sedate expression of a close student. His voice is not 
 powerful, but the tones are clear, distinct and well modu- 
 lated. Seemingly heedless of rhetorical flourishes, and 
 indeed of affectations of any kind, he preaches as all 
 thinking men ought and do preach, from the depths 
 of his soul. Popular, in the general sense of the word 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 193 
 
 popularity, which means one who draws a crowd of 
 parson-worshippers, Dr. Gannett is not, nor is it likely 
 that he will be. His preaching is too calm, too dignified 
 to suit the popular taste. I should almost suppose him 
 something of a hermit in life and thought ; I say I sup- 
 pose so, for I have no means of knowing save by his pul- 
 pit appearance and pulpit sayings. He has his manner, 
 but is neither gaudy, nor meretricious, nor /noisy, nor ec- 
 centric. And then he is seldom wordy ; he never uses 
 a word too much ; you seldom feel that another word 
 could have been supplied which would be better than the 
 one used. 
 
 In common with the best spirits of the age, Dr. Gan- 
 nett eschews' the didactic method, alike as a method of 
 obtaining the truth, or communicating truth ; he seldom 
 presents his thought wrapped in the formulas of logic. 
 He presents to you his thought ; he takes pleasure in his 
 own volitions and thinkings : he does not set them forth 
 as man-traps to catch unwary understandings. His style, 
 at times, lacks continuity, because of its more weighty 
 excellence. You could figure him, in the middle ages, 
 contenting himself with a cell, and shrinking from con- 
 fraternity with society, so that his spirit might be free of 
 the universe. Hermits there are now-a-days, and they 
 are the world's best teachers, too : for to know a world a 
 ^man must to a great degree go out of it, and shut him- 
 self up where he may survey it without partiality or pas- 
 sion, or spleen. Thus in the olden time the lone thinker 
 hied him away to woods, to claustral solitudes, to cham- 
 bers excavated from beetling rocks. He sat upon the 
 17 
 
191 
 
 ancestral moss of the hoary tree, he looked down a thou- 
 sand fathoms into the depths of his own soul, while the 
 silences descended around him and echoed through the 
 solitudes their million voices. Ah ! why in these days 
 have we forsaken the world's oldest and best preachers ? 
 Out of the hermit life the fine gold is ever dug. The 
 superficial attainments, the prattling, twaddling, mawkish, 
 blue-stockingism of the tea-table may indeed be picked 
 up at a circulating library, or from the delightful and in- 
 structive discourses of the Reverend Orthodox Fiddle- 
 faddle ; but if a man would be an instructor, if he 
 -would be instructed, it holds, now as in the olden time, 
 like the almost divine Pagan, he must travel to the grot 
 to meet Egeria ; or (and this figure is far more in keep- 
 ing with the subject) he must go into the wilderness for 
 forty days ; if the angels are to minister to him, he must 
 retire into the mountain apart to pray. 
 
 Many of Dr. Channing's sentences come to us like 
 the short, weighty, condensed syllables of those brave 
 old writers, Thomas Fuller, or Owen Feltham, or Sir 
 Thomas Browne. Not rich with the mellowing pomp, the 
 stained-glass glory of the last of these, but say-sentences, 
 composed of the richness of the first and the depth of 
 meaning of the last, for, preach whenever he will, his 
 sermons reveal the thinker ; and we have sentences that 
 abide in the memory like verbal or mental amulets, sen- 
 tences like the hill- tops, chaining the horizon around, and 
 'marking out the character of the country and its bound- 
 aries and beauties. 
 
 Dr. Gannett occupies a high position in his church. 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 195 
 
 He is the representative of the conservative portion of 
 the Unitarian body, and is one who will not bate one jot 
 or tittle of its great distinctive principles. Heedless of 
 the " liberal " movement of certain portions of the con- 
 nexion, he eschews all " new-fangled " notions, and is 
 a " Hebrew fj the Hebrews." His influence in the 
 city of Boston, and wherever Unitarianism is preached, 
 is very great, and he exercises it in all cases judiciously. 
 Few pastors are more devoted to, or more beloved and 
 prized by their people. As a writer he wields a vigor- 
 ous and powerful pen, and possesses a transparent and 
 nervous style of diction. In him the temperance move- 
 ment, and of late the Maine Law, has a firm and un- 
 flinching advocate, and few benevolent societies are un- 
 beriefited by his aid. Perhaps there is no minister now 
 living who could so successfully labor in the field once 
 occupied by William Ellery Channing as does Dr. Ezra 
 S. Gannett. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 REV. JOHN PIERPONT. HIS APPEARANCE. HIS STYLE OP 
 PREACHING, ETC. REV. E. H. CHAPIN. 
 
 JOHN PIERPONT! The heart of many a true lover 
 of the possessors of what Wordsworth calls 
 
 " The vision and the faculty divine,** 
 
196 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 will pulsate with a quicker beat when that name is men* 
 tioned, for the gifted individual who bears it, is known 
 not only in his own land, but in the " mother country," 
 as a genuine Son of Song. Pulpit poets in these days, 
 when almost everybody who can read strings of rhymes, 
 are by no means rare ; but in proportion to^eir numbers, 
 the men whose songs the world will not willingly let die, 
 are comparatively few. Pierpont belongs not to that 
 class whose productions are merely of an ephemeral na- 
 ture. In the Walhalla of Genius he is^sure of a niche, 
 beside those allotted to the greatest of his Country's 
 Bards. ^ 
 
 An anonymous writer speaking of him as an "American 
 poet, says : 
 
 " His poetical temperament added greatly to his power 
 as a pulpit orator. His imagination was always an ac- 
 tive minister in the service of his reason. Profuse in 
 beautiful and expressive comparisons, ranging at will 
 through the glories and wonders of creation, and suscep- 
 tible to all the phases of human emotion, it arrayed his 
 most profound thoughts in a fascinating costume, con- 
 cealing the severity of his argument in graceful and 
 flowing imagery. Born with an innate genius for poetry, 
 he would have attained a brilliant fame in that direction, 
 had not his mind been preoccupied with absorbing studies 
 and the wearing labors of his profession. As it is, his 
 poetical productions, though limited in number, have a 
 distinguished place in American literature. His princi- 
 pal poem, " The Airs of Palestine," is an admirable 
 specimen of versification, classical m conception and in 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 197 
 
 diction, abounding in pleasing images and elevated re- 
 ligious thought. It met with a highly favorable recep- 
 tion from the best judges of poetry, upon its first appear- 
 ance, and their decision has never been reversed by sub- 
 sequent readers. Mr. Pierpont's numerous smaller 
 pieces^u^Mjrt^ for the most part by occasions of pub- 
 lic intereslB ^Ldely known, and are universally pop- 
 ular. SoSM Hhem are ^models of genuine lyrical 
 poetry." * 
 
 A few Sabbaths ago at the dawn of day we left the 
 hot city behind us and journeyed ,as far as Medford, in 
 which charming place the subject of our sketch at pres- 
 ent officiates. And grateful indeed was the change from 
 the "endless meal of brick" to the green country. 
 Very pleasant are these New England villages, especially 
 to an eye that has long been accustomed to survey those 
 of OKI England; the latter bearing all the^arks of 
 age, the former possessing all the charms of novelty. 
 How white and glittering these pretty cottages with 
 their green blinds look ! There is so much taste dis- 
 played in their construction that eacl^^^hem with its 
 pillars and verandah, and sometimes its^JP&la, seems in- 
 tended as a model for exhibition and only lacking a glass 
 shade. Indeed the little lightning rods pointing above 
 the chimnies and gables, seem to be the cut-off cords by 
 which they might have been let down from cloud-land. 
 And then, surrounded, as they are, by beautiful trees 
 and gardens, and the cleanest of atmospheres around 
 and above them, they appear to an English eye more like 
 houses seen in dreams and pictures than real dwelling- 
 
198 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OH, 
 
 places, so very airy, unsubstantial and smokeless do they 
 appear. And, instead of some ancient, ivy-clad temple 
 with its surrounding grave-yard, where " The rude fore- 
 fathers of the hamlet sleep," there arises here an. ex- 
 quisitely neat church, white and pure, looking as the 
 feathers of an angel's wing. And hui^^^^^J^L tur- 
 ret, a bell rings out its " church-goiijH BRjwhose 
 echoes over vale and lake float sweeS ^Re summer 
 
 Here we are then at the door of Mr. Pierpont's 
 church, into which we forthwith enter and take our seat. 
 It is spacious and well fflled. Already the pastor is in 
 the pulpit, and the choir are singing the first hymn. 
 
 Let me sketch him as he rises to read an opening 
 chapter. 
 
 You may see at a glance that no common man is be- 
 fore you. He is tall, very erect, and firmly, thougn no%. 
 stoutly built. In point of figure and dress he so much 
 resembles the late Robert Southey that were his head 
 concealed he might be mistaken for the late Laureate. 
 But that head^^ remarkable one. I have seldom seen 
 One more stra^^ Its great characteristic appears to 
 me to be its perfect manliness. The forehead is high, 
 broad and furrowed across with the lines of thought. 
 Overshadowing it is an abundance of white hair, which 
 in moments of excitement and exertion " streams like a 
 meteor." Beneath heavy brows are a pair of blue, 
 keen, expressive eyes, that change with every changing 
 thought. The nose is short and thick, the mouth and 
 chin symmetrical and well shaped. The expression of 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 199 
 
 the whole is that of great benignity blended with in- 
 domitable courage, unshakable decision, and much dig- 
 nity. 
 
 Mr. Pierpont's style of preaching is exclusively his 
 own. In it is mingled boldness, fervor, deep thought 
 and irresigjh|rgument. It has been said of his ser- 
 mons whe^^K: of the Hollis street church, in Boston, 
 that they wei^f replete with^ngmM^tbough tpdotfaed in 
 a highly picturesque and poetic diction. They were 
 often argumentative in character, but always relieved 
 by ingenious and novel illustrations. Avoiding in a 
 great measure abstract and dogmatic themes, they dwelt 
 on topics which come home to the " business and bosoms" 
 of a popular audience. Free from the threadbare 
 common-places of the pulpit, they attracted attention by 
 the boldness of discussion and originality of style. Al- 
 Htys earnest, decorous, impressive, they sometimes bor- 
 rowed the resources of pungent sarcasm and racy hu- 
 mor. Uealing in the broad principles of human nature, 
 deriving suggestions from the current events of the day, 
 and delivered with a fervent and kindling eloquence, 
 they aroused the hearer to reflection anck inquiry, while 
 they touched the nobler sympathies of his heart. No 
 public speaker has more thoroughly studied the philoso- 
 phy of elocution. The charm of his intonations, and 
 the variety and force of his emphasis, gave a fresh 
 meaning to his reading of the Scriptures and of sacred 
 poetry. In extemporaneous efforts, there has seldom 
 been his equal, for continuity of thought, freedom of 
 language, and pithy and pointed illustration. " 
 
200 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 The same writer adds : 
 
 "John Pierpont, whose name we have never seen 
 graced with the " semilunar fardels," which indicate 
 that a preacher of the Gospel has so far drilled in har- 
 mony with the " Masters in Israel" of his age as to be 
 dubbed a Doctor of Divinity, has devdgj^long and 
 active life to the service of society, iij Hmnistry of 
 Christian truth, righteousness, purity, ^^u>ve. Unre- 
 cognized, to a great degree, by the Scribes and Phari- 
 sees, with whom he has acted in intimate relations, 
 " among them, but not of them," he is one of the most 
 richly-gifted men of the present day, and has achieved 
 a fame, which will descend to future generations with 
 increasing brightness, and with a benignant and elevating 
 influence. In the singularly varied walks of life, in 
 which his lot has been cast, he has been subject to severe 
 trials, calling for the exercise of nobleness of charact^BB 
 serenity of judgment, and promptness of action ; an<Jpil^ 
 all of them he has exhibited those traits of genffbus and 
 heroic manhood, that lofty devotion to principle, and that 
 stern disregard to personal consequences, which have 
 won the admiration of his friends, and extorted a tribute 
 of homage even from his enemies. Though now ad- 
 vanced in years, his u eye is not dim, nor is his natural 
 force abated," while he devotes the energies of a green 
 and vigorous old age to the cause of moral truth and 
 justice, at whose shrine he has been a faithful worship- 
 per from his youth." 
 
 The author of Crayon Sketches thus graphically de- 
 scribes Mr. Pierpont : 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 201 
 
 " Pierpont is emphatically the Temperance poet. See 
 him standing in that magnificent music hall, reading his 
 poem before the members of the Mercantile Library So- 
 ciety. He is straight as a palm-tree fanned by the 
 * airs of Palestine,' his snow-white hair looks like a halo 
 of glory about his head, and the rosy glow of health 
 upon his face shows that his heart can never grow old. 
 Few men of his years (he is upwards of sixty) have 
 been young so long |Ahe ; few men of his age are so 
 young as he is now. jffe always dresses neatly, and has 
 an air of military compactness, looks well in the street 
 or on the platform. His eyes are blue and brilliant; 
 forehead stamped with the lines of intellectual superi- 
 ority ; sanguine, nervous. In any audience he would 
 be singled out as a leader. As a speaker, he is always 
 interesting, .often 2eloquen^fcbere is a rich vein of 
 poetry running through hiSBMrons and speeches, which 
 enfeuice the value of his efforts. While speaking, he 
 stands erect, and has a habit of shaking his hand, with 
 his forefinger extended, when he is earnestly emphatic 
 on any particular subject under discussion, at the same 
 time moving his head, while his eyes flash as though he 
 was shaking stars out of his forehead." 
 
 Mr. Pierpont has long been identified with the cause 
 of Temperance, and his labors in that field, as well as in 
 other spheres of Moral Reforms have been great and 
 singularly useful. It has been recorded of him that 
 " He threw himself into these movements with peculiar 
 energy and indomitable courage. He never shrunk from 
 
202 PULPIT PORTRAITS : OR, 
 
 their unpopularity. He had no desire to " make friends 
 of the mammon of unrighteousness." He uttered his 
 convictions in the trumpet-tones of religious earnestness. 
 Every word told. At length the persons who throve by 
 existing abuses took the alarm. They began to quail 
 before the burning eye of the fiery-hearted reformer. 
 Low mutterings of dissatisfaction were heard. The 
 faces of many old friends were turned against him, and 
 their ancient love waxed cold, ^ttscontented murmurs 
 were heard " between the porch^fnd the altar," as the 
 undismayed " man of God" liftedcup his voice in rebuke 
 of some gigantic iniquity. It was thought an unpardon- 
 able audacity that a Christian preacher in a Christian 
 church should speak so boldly of " temperance, right- 
 eousness, and a judgment to come." But as yet, the 
 lurking fire of oppositio^fcL not broke out into open 
 flame. At this crisis, IS^PBIrpont was attacked with 
 violent fever. His sufferings were severe and protracte 
 At last the disease was conquered, but it left him almost 
 a wreck of his former self. In 1835, by the advice of 
 his physicians, he made a voyage to Europe, extended 
 his travels to Constantinople and the ruins of Ephesus, 
 and returned in about eleven months, with renewed en- 
 ergy, to the discharge of his official functions. 
 
 Soon after his return, the discontent of those who had 
 been aggrieved by his zeal for reform, was manifested in 
 open and violent opposition. A painful controversy be- 
 tween a portion of the parish and the pastor commenced 
 in 1838, which continued for seven years, when a dis- 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 203 
 
 missal was requested by Mr. Pierpont, who had tri- 
 umphantly sustained himself against the charge of his 
 adversaries. 
 
 His conduct in this protracted controversy was marked 
 by great energy, determination, and wisdom. He felt that 
 he was not merely contending for personal rights, but for 
 a great moral principle. The freedom of the pulpit was 
 at stake. A blow was struck through him at the right 
 of liberty of thought aj^ of speech in the public teacher 
 of religion. He promptly faced the ^danger, and faced 
 it manfully. Surrounded by timid friends, who shrunk 
 from contest, as an evil in itself with little sympathy 
 from his professional brethren, who regarded the peace 
 of a parish as the one thing needful, and living in an 
 atmosphere of strong conservative proprieties, he was 
 thrown to a great degree, on his own resources, and 
 made " to tread the wine-press alone." But not for a 
 moment did he falter in his course. With equal prompt- 
 ness and intrepidity, he met every manoeuvre of his ene- 
 mies, until, having fully vindicated his position, he with- 
 drew from a struggle in which a further triumph would 
 have been superfluous. 
 
 The spirit in which he dealt with his antagonists will 
 be perceived from the following extract from a reply to 
 the proprietors of the church who had communicated to 
 him a vote that they no longer wished for his services as 
 pastor: "And now, my brethren, as this may possibly 
 be the last counsel that, as your minister, I may ever 
 have an opportunity to give you, those of you especially, 
 who have been most active in disquieting the sheep of 
 
204 PULPIT PORTRAITS: on, 
 
 this Christian fold, by your persecution of its shepherd ; 
 indulge me, I pray you, in one word more of counsel. 
 The time is coming when you will thank me for it, thank 
 me the more heartily, the more promptly you follow it. 
 Desist, I counsel you to desist, from that part of your 
 business which has been the cause of all this unhappy 
 controversy ; the cause of your troubles, and of my trials 
 and triumph, for I shall be triumphant at last. Desist 
 from the business that, througlg^he poverty of many, 
 has made you rich, that has put you into your palaces 
 by driving them through hovels and prisons down into 
 the gates of the grave. Abandon the business that is 
 kindling the fires of hatred upon your own hearth-stones, 
 and pouring poison into the veins of your children, yea, 
 and of your children's children, and sending the shriek 
 of delirium through their chambers, the business that is 
 now scourging our good land as pestilence and war have 
 never scourged it ; nay, the business, in prosecuting 
 which you are, even now, carrying a curse to all the 
 continents of the world, and making our country a 
 stench in the nostrils of the nations. I counsel you to 
 stay your hands from this work of destruction, and wash 
 them of this great iniquity, as becomes the disciples of 
 Him who came not -to destroy men's lives, but to save 
 them. As His disciples, I counsel you no longer to ab- 
 sent yourselves from your wonted place of worship, and 
 to return to your allegiance to your church and to God. 
 Say to your minister, ' Well done, good and faithful ser- 
 vant ! you have faithfully done the work that you were 
 ordained to do. You have neither spared us nor feared 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 205 
 
 us. You have even wounded us ; but faithful are the 
 wounds of a friend. We commend you for your work, 
 and charge you to go on with it, that we may meet to- 
 gether, and rejoice together in the presence of God.' r ' 
 
 Mr. Pierpont is also a very popular lecturer ; and he 
 frequently recites his poems in public. This I cannot 
 but think is not a step in the right direction, for surely 
 it is somewhat degrading literature to peddle it from 
 town to town, just as ather New England " notions" are 
 carried from one hamlet to another. 
 
 Whilst speaking of one Reverend Advocate and Poet 
 of Temperance, I am reminded of another minister who 
 as a Platform speaker has not, I conceive, his equal in 
 America, on this particular topic. I refer to the Rev. 
 E. H. Chapin, of New York. Come with me, reader, 
 in imagination, to some great public meeting when this 
 distinguished orator is to address the assembly, for, for 
 once I shall depart from my usual plan, and sketch my 
 subject on the Platform instead of in the Pulpit. 
 
 And, in fact, the Platform, as well as the Press, is a 
 grflfct rival of the Pulpit. This is preeminently an age 
 of public meetings, and the man who can successfully 
 work upon and wield the passions and impulses of large 
 audiences, in some measure approaches to the character 
 of the ancient Bard or Minstrel. He moves from town 
 to town, gathering round him the thousands of intelligent 
 and sympathetic people, as of old the minstrel gathered 
 the crowds of baronial retainers in the Hall. There are 
 two kinds of meetings held in this country ; there are 
 first, immense gatherings like those in Faneuil Hall or 
 18 
 
206 PULPIT PORTRAITS : Oil, 
 
 on the Common, where the people go to enthrone or in- 
 augurate a principle ; they listen to the annunciations 
 from the platform only as the announcements of their 
 own loyalty to certain thoughts. When they applaud, 
 to a great degree, it may be said that they applaud them- 
 selves ; cheer after cheer arises, because they behold 
 arising behind the speaker, their own impersonated wis- 
 dom. In meetings like these there is little freedom of 
 opinion, little real freedom of speech. The man who at- 
 tempts to breast that wave of feeling is borne away upon 
 it to a perfect ocean of scorn ; and on the whole, such 
 meetings are studies, not of the best phase of mankind ; 
 sparks of speech touch the gunpowder of prejudice, and 
 instantly all is in a volcanic blaze. There are other 
 immense gatherings where the people assemble to hear 
 a man, a favorite, an orator speak, and then they are 
 prepared to listen to anything he may say ; they go de- 
 termined to be good-humored, determined to be inspired, 
 determined to be pleased. 
 
 So it is at this time, reader, and see, the Rev. Mr. 
 Chapin is about to addres us. Look at him, he is%iot 
 tall, but he is fleshy. His face is good, somewhat iike 
 that of Napoleon in many of its phases. The eyes are 
 dark, lively, and possessing that liquid depth so peculiar 
 to all men of brilliant imaginations. S^rthy is the 
 complexion and dark the hair. As he commences, you 
 hear a rich, deep, melodious voice, beautiful in its modu- 
 lations. He goes on, and now you will agree with me 
 that the platform is a most influential organ of public 
 opinion. How the orator's eloquence intoxicates the 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 207 
 
 young ! what vehemency it lends to the impulses ! How, 
 like the winds over the ocean, thy^ce of the speaker 
 awakens the passions and thg^^Bms in the soul! 
 There are few sights more thrilffl|M^y, than such as 
 this, a spectacle of a vast assemblage of men and 
 women, all of them intelligent and educated, all aroused 
 and quickened beneath the thrilling tones of this soul in 
 earnest ! How the masses in the aisles heave to and 
 fro! How breathless! how hushed! how low the first 
 muttered indications of applause, a voice in the distant 
 crowd, irrepressible, sinking, however, directly, BOW 
 louder, louder, louder ! Ah ! the sentence is unfinished, 
 ere forth it rolls! that peal of energetic praise, the 
 speaker masters the tumult, and moves on with his argu- 
 ment or his declamation, you watch, while he advances, 
 the kindling faces of the crowd. Bright eyes flash ; 
 cheeks are flushed ; all is paroxysmatic excitement ; all 
 the vitality of the meeting is called forth ; and now the 
 building shakes again and again with the loud, outspeak- 
 ing thunder of the people. But the climax is not yet 
 reached ; the speaker has not concluded, and he will not 
 drop from that altitude ; he only stooped gracefully, to 
 slake his plumage in a mountain lake. He will bear 
 them higher yet ; his voice has attained a more perfect 
 fulness ; he nas shaken away the encumberments of the 
 understanding. He commits himself to the full heavens 
 of Hope and Promise. See how he pours his magnetism 
 over the meeting ! and every auditor is clairvoyant, in 
 the body or out of the body they cannot tell, for the 
 witchery of genius is over them and upon them. Every 
 
208 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 word now becomes a shaft of light, every sentence a 
 loud clap, a peal^^n the tempest of eloquence, an- 
 nouncing the ne^M^fcconclusion, until, as the speaker 
 closes, the Hall T^^P^ith the loud torrents of com- 
 pressed admiration. Some of the most nervously sensi- 
 tive of the audience will not to-night sleep very soundly, 
 or get to sleep very early ; it is an opium-dream, an 
 enchantment, a kind of fairy land through which he led 
 them ; and those loud trumpet gales which rung lo Pceans 
 around him, were the modes of the expression of their 
 
 popular sympathy. 
 
 r. Chapin is certainly one of the most distinguished 
 Pulpit and Platform orators of the day. He is at 
 present Pastor of a Universalist Society in New York. 
 Formerly he preached in the Boston School street 
 Church. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE BROMFIELD STREET CHURCH. A REMINISCENCE OP 
 DR. BEAUMONT. THE REV. JOSEPH CUMMINGS. HIS 
 STYLE OF ORATORY. GENERAL REMARKS. 
 
 WERE any one to ask me the question, to what order 
 of architecture does the Methodist Church in Bromfield 
 street belong, I should be puzzled exceedingly; for 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 209 
 
 regarded externally, a more incongruous, unimposing, 
 characterless building does not " cumber the ground." 
 It is an ollapodrida of brick, morte^ftbtfco^rf wood, an 
 ecclesiastical monstrosity, ancfflM^nc^^Mi eye-sore 
 to Mr. Ruskin, of the Seven Lamps of Architecture, as, 
 indeed, it is to all who regard the " proprieties" of 
 church-building. But, fortunately, it is so situated that 
 hundreds pass by its door, ignorant of the neighborhood 
 of a Church, and so, happily, lose the view of this singu- 
 lar and grotesque front. 
 
 Having elsewhere said something on the subject of 
 church architecture, it will not be necessary again to 
 refer to it ; so le* us enter the Bromfield Methodist 
 Church, and quitting criticisms on dead walls, listen to 
 the living voice as it speaks of the stone which the build- 
 ers did refuse, and which is become the " Head of the 
 corner." 
 
 But this much I may say, the interior of the church 
 is far superior to the outside in point of arrangement and 
 effect. It is lofty ; and the ceiling is supported by slen- 
 der pillars ; across the roof run light beams of oak. 
 There are spacious galleries ; comfortable pews below ; 
 a good organ ; a capital player thereon ; an efficient 
 choir, and a handsome pulpit, ^behind which is the best 
 specimen of fresco painting, of its kind, in Boston. (By 
 the way, about the worst, is in Dr. Caldicott's Church at 
 Charlestown.) So much for the inside of the Bromfield- 
 street Church. 
 
 As I sat, previous to the commencement of the ser- 
 mon, looking over some of the glowing and glorious 
 18* 
 
210 PULPIT PORTRAITS: on, 
 
 hymns of Charles Wesley, my thoughts travelled back to 
 the time when I last^gat in a Methodist chapel. It was 
 hot in New, but in QJji England. On that occasion the 
 preacher ^f^r. TMHiont, one of the most remarkable 
 of living British Wesleyan ministers ; and therefore I 
 deem him worthy of an incidental notice. 
 
 Imagine yourself, dear reader, in a crowded London 
 Methodist Chapel, in the pulpit of which stands the min- 
 ister whom I have just named. He is by no means 
 brilliant in appearance, rather the reverse. Some per- 
 sons might term him slovenly-looking, and complain that 
 he does not dress well ; that, he does not ; but he ad- 
 dresses well, and that is better. 
 
 I have little liking for pulpit fops, or pretty preaching, 
 and far prefer roughness and raciness to smoothness and 
 twaddle. The Doctor commences his sermon. At first 
 we cannot conceive at what he is driving ; he appears to 
 be struggling with some great, as yet unripe thought, 
 as Hercules struggled with the serpents. Soon, how- 
 ever, he conquers all difficulties, and flings out with mar- 
 vellous facility idea upon idea ; aye, he flings them out ! 
 There is not even the grace of the sling-motion in his 
 action ; but there are stern, strong, hard truths that hit 
 the giant of error full in the forehead. Soon he warms 
 up ; his voice, rough and harsh from some affection of 
 the palate, become familiar, arid you excuse the rugged- 
 ness of tone for the sake of the gems of thought. On 
 he goes, and soon he begins to perspire ; beads, dews 
 of thought, appear on his forehead, and slowly, slowly 
 they stream down and trickle over his shaggy eyebrows, 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 211 
 
 until the orator, in a fit of pulpit enthusiasm, utters a 
 harsher sentence than ever ; throws himself half out of 
 the pulpit ; looks as though he had come from some 
 Russian bath reeking with moisture ; and, in the voice of 
 an asthmatic stentor, roars " Repent ! " 
 
 Dr. Beaumont is most exuberant of action in the pul- 
 pit, and perspires prodigiously. He has a way of shak- 
 ing his head violently, as he leans over the cushion, and 
 on such occasions he not unfrequently sprinkles the hear- 
 ers immediately below him. A little boy once remarked 
 as he removed the moisture from his shining locks : 
 " Never mind, they are but the droppings of the sanc- 
 tuary ! " for which witticism he got, very undeservedly 
 I think, a severe lecture from his matter of fact sire. 
 
 But I must call back these wandering thoughts, and 
 describe the Methodist minister of this Bromfield-street 
 Church, who is by this time in the pulpit. In point of 
 personal appearance he is tall, of good figure, and has 
 one of those grave, contemplative, spectacled faces that 
 indicate habitual thought. He delivers the hymn with 
 much feeling, and after it has been finely sung by the 
 choir, reads a portion of Scripture with solemn emphasis. 
 A prayer, truly devotional, follows, and then comes 
 another hymn, after which the sermon. 
 
 Mr. Cummings's discourses are all but extemporaneous, 
 though there are evident indications of careful previous 
 labor and finish. They are delivered in a solemn, but 
 somewhat monotonous tone, and this, to a critical ear, is 
 certainly a drawback. But the style, the matter, is ex- 
 cellent. In regard to illustration, Mr. Cummings is 
 
212 PULPIT PORTRAITS: Oil, 
 
 peculiarly happy. Figures often abound in his sermons ; 
 indeed, he is about one of the best analogical preachers 
 I have heard in America. And the figures he uses are 
 not mere tropes of speech ; they are at once graphic 
 delineations and perfect symbols. You feel that you un- 
 derstand the subject better by them ; that they, indeed, 
 form a part of the subject ; that they are the body, con- 
 taining the soul of the discourse. There are some preach- 
 ers who will lighten at you, and thunder at you, and 
 meander-rill you, and purple- violet you. They will send 
 forth a host of figures to buzz about you like flies, to an- 
 noy you and creep about you like yet more loathsome in- 
 sects ; but you feel all the time that it is labor thrown 
 away ; that you, for one, are certainly no nearer the 
 mark ; nay, that the dizzy noise has perhaps carried you 
 further away from the meaning. Nothing is easier, and 
 nothing is more worthless, than this kind of preaching, 
 wholly impressionless and pointless as it ever is and 
 must be. 
 
 Mr. Cummings is, I believe, very popular among the 
 people of his connection. I do not wonder at it. Every 
 speaker, who in addition to soundness of doctrine, practi- 
 cal application, and ardent piety, can command stores of 
 figure, always will be so. This is the secret of the 
 fabulist's power ; hence the mighty influence of the para- 
 ble ; hence, sometimes, the force of an allusion to some 
 w T ell-known object in nature, or to some household circum- 
 stances. To such a mind, to one disposed to lay itself 
 out for such illustrations, the whole world is a mighty 
 gallery crowded with objects. Every history, every sci- 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 213 
 
 ence furnishes them ; every room presents them ; no day 
 can pass without them. The greatest of all lips have 
 seized truth , and this method is so simple that it is not 
 denied to the humblest to be somewhat expert at it. The 
 truth itself was perhaps distant, and ideal, and only re- 
 motely perceived; but the figure was truly at once a 
 mirror, and an interpreter. We started with pleasure 
 and surprise to find a difficulty melting away. 
 
 Mr. Cummings, unlike Dr. Beaumont, uses very little 
 action in the pulpit. A gentle waving of the hand and 
 arm is about all that may be observed. He is very flu- 
 ent, scarcely ever hesitates, and invariably succeeds in 
 keeping up the close attention of his auditors. No one 
 who hears him can for one moment doubt, that his great 
 aim is to do good, and that all other aims are subsidiary 
 to that prime principle in a minister. As a pastor he is 
 greatly beloved by his people, and few men exercise a 
 wider ministerial and personal influence among Wesleyan 
 Methodists than the minister of Bromfield-street Church. 
 
214 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 V. CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 FLASHY PREACHING. DR. RICHARD S. STORKS. APPEAR- 
 ANCE. STYLE OF PREACHING, ETC. 
 
 " AND do n't forget the good, old, sound preachers, 
 sir," said a friend the other day, to me, whilst convers- 
 ing with him on the subject of this series of sketches. 
 " And," he added, " it is but justice to these pillars of 
 our church, that though they do not now, it may be, 
 flash as brilliantly as some of the ' new lights,' they 
 should not be overlooked in a volume which professes to 
 sketch Distinguished American Divines." And my 
 friend was in the right. Therefore, shall I, in this chap- 
 ter, speak of one whose name is a tower of strength, and 
 whose career has been one of honor and of usefulness. 
 
 In my sketch of Dr. Baron Stow, I said that he was 
 one of a class, who are rather teachers than orators, of 
 men whose aim is ever to give their hearers something 
 to think of, not to talk about ; and now I have to sketch 
 another minister, who might come within the same cate- 
 gory. Here I would transfer to my pages some remarks 
 on "flashy" preaching, which I recently met with in a 
 Boston newspaper, and which are ad rem to the matter. 
 The writer says, alluding to a popular misconception : 
 
 " There is a mode of preaching the Gospel at the 
 present day, exceedingly popular, but which we regard 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 215 
 
 as defective in its appropriate influences. It consists in 
 addressing the imagination with lively imagery or highly 
 wrought pictures, and endeavoring to awaken the emo- 
 tions and affections through this, rather than through the 
 reason by the majesty or tenderness of truth. We object 
 to this mode of sermonizing, because it awakens essen- 
 tially the same class of emotions that are awakened by 
 the drama and romance ; and, therefore, though the truth 
 may be clearly exhibited, it fails to produce its legitimate 
 gospel effect. In other words, while it awakens great in- 
 terest, moves the sympathies, starts the tear, even agitates 
 the hearer, it does not deeply or^permanently affect the 
 conscience and devotional affections. It rather pleases 
 than benefits. It excited, but yields little Christian nu- 
 triment. As a tragedy seldom improves the morals, so 
 this picturesque, enchanting preaching seldom strengthens 
 the Christian graces. The result lodges in the imagina- 
 tion and taste, awakening admiration, rather than the 
 conscience and heart of the hearer, on the general 
 principle that the capacity or tendency of the mind most 
 active in the production of a sermon is usually the most 
 affected in hearing it. 
 
 " Reinhard, formerly Court preacher at Dresden, in his 
 * Letters and Confessions,' translated from the German by 
 the late Rev. Oliver A. Taylor, has so happily expressed 
 this thought together with others associated with it, alike 
 deserving the consideration of the ambassador of Christ, 
 and those who listen to his instructions, that I beg leave 
 to give a short extract : 
 
 " < He who banishes instruction from the pulpit, and 
 
216 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 attempts to reduce everything to the excitement of emo 
 tion, robs the ministerial office of a great part of its use- 
 fulness, and deprives the great mass of the people of 
 almost every opportunity for the enlargement and cor- 
 rection of their religious knowledge. Moreover, I must 
 absolutely deny the possibility of a man's exciting a re- 
 ligious feeling and rendering it salutary and productive 
 of exalted effects, otherwise than by commencing with 
 convincing instruction, and taking the way through the 
 intellect to the heart. All his efforts to raise emotion by 
 operating upon the imagination, will result in inflaming 
 it and enkindling a w$dfire, which can prove of no ad" 
 vantage to genuine piety, and may positively injure it. 
 A religious emotion, to be flalutary and improving, 
 and in a rational and profitable manner effect the exal- 
 tation of the mind, must be founded upon a lively 
 perception of important truths vividly represented. In- 
 deed, it is impossible to conceive of a discourse, which 
 shall in reality take hold of, awaken and inspire the man, 
 and prepare the way for, and raise the emotions of the 
 heart, without instruction. Now as this instruction will 
 produce the most effect, if delivered with clearness and 
 proper arrangement, it is impossible to see why strict 
 method should not be combined with the object of affect- 
 ing the heart. 
 
 While you are meditating upon a subject, then, some 
 one will say, let everything be arranged in its proper 
 place ; but when you come to write it out, and dress up 
 this skeleton with skin and flesh, carefully conceal the 
 various parts from the audience addressed, and then, 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 217 
 
 their eyes will not discover a skeleton without spirit and 
 life. 
 
 Let me tarry a while at the image which lies at the 
 foundation of this remark. Nature does, indeed, cover 
 up the bony fabric of a beautiful body, with tender parts 
 of various kinds, and thereby impart to it those powerful 
 charms by which it allures the beholder ; but does she, 
 in so doing, reduce it to a mass of flesh, and make it 
 impossible for us any longer to distinguish its single parts 
 and members, discover their relation to each other, or 
 point out their joints ? On the other hand, is not this 
 bony fabric, which constitutes the firm basis of the whole, 
 so completely visible, that one can readily see where 
 each member begins .and ends, and how they are all con- 
 nected together ; and is not this appropriate and natural 
 compactness and these regular proportions, which render 
 a beautiful form so pleasing? Now, to continue the 
 image employed, a discourse, the whole organization, and 
 the skeleton of w r hose thoughts are concealed by the 
 manner in which it is written out, and the language in 
 which it is clothed, will not constitute a beautiful bodyj 
 full of life and motion ; but can be looked upon as noth- 
 ing more than an unformed and helpless mass of flesh j 
 which cannot be made into anything, or be reckoned 
 among any known class of forms. This, indeed, is the 
 impression which such discourses ordinarily leave behind 
 them. One who listens to them, hears much that is 
 beautiful, but he cannot tell definitely in what it consists, 
 and is unable to reduce it to any clear and distinct 
 19 
 
218 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 shape. I cannot persuade myself that such discourses 
 ever accomplish any good." 
 
 Very few ministers are better known to the religious 
 world than the Rev. Richard H. Storrs, of Braintree, 
 Massachusetts ; as he is to preach, this Sabbath morning, 
 in our good city of Boston, let us embrace the opportu- 
 nity of hearing him at the Pine street church, the pastor 
 of which, by the way, will hereafter form the subject of 
 a separate article. 
 
 As we enter the House of God, the preluding tones 
 of the organ are softly floating through the building and 
 already is the minister in the pulpit. Presently, the 
 music having ceased, he rises and invokes the aid of the 
 great Head of the Church. His appearance at once 
 impresses you. It is emphatically tfcat of " an old dis- 
 ciple." Over a sallow, time-furrowed face and forehead, 
 wave hairs which have grown gray in the Master's ser- 
 vice, and eyes somewhat dimmed by age, though still 
 retaining much of their old fire's glance, from their 
 deep orbits through aiding spectacles. The nose is 
 aquiline, the lips a trifle retracted and the chin long. 
 Add to these features a spare, wiry figure, slightly 
 bowed by time and toil, you have formed some idea of 
 the outer-man of the Reverend Richard H. Storrs. 
 
 The sermon is on a subject which, as it should be, has 
 been preached on time over and again, and therefore 
 may reasonably be supposed to possess no points of 
 novelty such as would create a " sensation" or form 
 " striking features." But the most familiar subject may 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 219 
 
 be so handled by a powerful and original mind as to sur- 
 round it with a charm that is worth far more than all the 
 garnishings of oratory. And such was the case in this 
 instance, for seldom have I heard a sermon whose ar- 
 rangements in all respects were so perfect. So natural 
 were its divisions, that the various sections appeared to 
 self-arrange themselves. And then there were no insane 
 attempts at rhetorical display, none of those pretty in- 
 genuities in which some preachers indulge, deluding 
 themselves, as they do so, into the belief that they are 
 original, when they are only absurd. How astonishing 
 it is that many young preachers will be wise above what 
 is written. Such remind me of a fellow in Devonshire, 
 who in olden times went to a magistrate for the purpose 
 of getting a license to preach. "Can you read?" 
 asked the magistrate, merely as a matter of form, for he 
 never supposed that any one would attempt to speak who 
 was not master of at least the alphabet ; but a reply in 
 the negative startled him from His propriety. " Not 
 read ! " he exclaimed " why, how then, can you preach 
 a sermon from a text ? " " Oh ! " replied the w r ould-be 
 Divine " Mother reads, and I 'splains and 'spounds." 
 And so it is in the case 'of some pulpit-aspirants I wot 
 of, who " 'splain and 'spound " with a vengeance. 
 
 The worst of it is that these young gentlemen are apt 
 to bore one into giving opinions of their productions. 
 Perhaps the best rebuke ever given to one of this genus 
 was given by Robert Hall to a young minister who 
 pressed him very much to say what he thought of the 
 sermon to which the great man had that morning listened. 
 
220 PULPIT PORTRAITS : OR, 
 
 For a time, Hall tried to shirk the question, but on being 
 hard pressed he exclaimed : 
 
 " Well, Mr. , there was one fine passage, sir, in 
 
 your sermon, one very fine passage, sir." 
 
 " Ah," cried the youth, rubbing his hands, " and pray, 
 Mr. Hall, what might that have been ? " 
 
 ""Why, sir, your passage from the pulpit, sir," re- 
 turned the irritated great man. 
 
 To return to Dr. Storrs. Unlike the sermons of many 
 eminent Theologians, his was anything but dry. Book- 
 men are apt to be dull preachers, but though in cases of 
 controversy on Bible matters no man stands higher, as an 
 authority, than Dr. Storrs. The sin, or failing, rather, 
 of heaviness, cannot be laid to his charge. In the ser- 
 mon in question, he frequently glowed and sparkled, and 
 at the conclusion of his sermon, when he described the 
 final glory of the redeemed and their position " high and 
 glorious, on thrones above those of the angels," he was 
 eloquent in the full sense of that much abused word. 
 And yet, though every sentence betrayed profundity of 
 thought and a complete knowledge of the subject, it was 
 pervaded throughout by the exquisite charm of simplicity. 
 Learning never obtruded itself, though we all felt it had 
 been employed. The child might have understood it, 
 the old man have profited by it. 
 
 Dr. Storrs has long occupied, and happily still occu- 
 pies a very influential position in* the body of which he 
 is a prominent member. In associations, conventions, 
 and assemblies of all kinds, his opinion is regarded as 
 of great weight. For over fifty years he has been pastor 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 221 
 
 over ihe Brain tree church, and many has been the reve- 
 rend head which he has seen laid low during his own 
 protracted career. He has in the ministry at Brooklyn, 
 New York, a son, who is one of the most rising and 
 eloquent men of the day, so that when his own work is 
 over, in all probability, the honored name of Storrs will 
 not be absent from the list of pulpit orators. But may 
 the period be long distant when the subject of our sketch 
 shall be called from his toil to his triumph, 
 
 " And wave bis palm and wear his crown, 
 And with the Elders cast them down." 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 HENRY WARD BEECHER. PLYMOUTH CHURCH. APPEAR- 
 ANCE AND STYLE OF THE PREACHER. SKETCH OF 
 REV. HUGH M'NEILE, OF LIVERPOOL. 
 
 ALREADY have I, in this volume, sketched two mem- 
 bers of that family composed of ministers, authors and 
 authoresses, which rejoices in the name of Beecher. 
 And when, a short time since I informed a friend that I 
 intended to limn the lineaments of a third, he shook his 
 head, and observed that he feared my book might be too 
 19* 
 
222 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 Beechery. Well, I will take the chance of that, reader, 
 but I have little fear, myself, on such a score. There 
 are many, to whom I think a sketch of that almost uni- 
 versal favorite, Henry Ward Beecher, will be acceptable. 
 
 Doubtless if the family to which the subject of our 
 sketch belongs had 'lived in the old times of foray, feud, 
 and raid, it would, from its energy and decision, its 
 fierce battlings with vested wrongs, and its many tri- 
 umphs in well foughten fields have earned the name of 
 the Bold Beechers. The head of it is, as we have seen 
 elsewhere, a veteran crusader in a cause which has for 
 its aim the destruction of drunkenness, and the elevation 
 to sobriety of those who have sunk beneath the attacks 
 of the Giant Despair of Intemperance. And well and 
 worthily have the children seconded the efforts of their 
 sire ! At this moment it would be difficult to name an- 
 other family which comprises among its members, male 
 and female, so much talent, and talent employed, too, in 
 the cause of humanity. For my own part I have no 
 idea of waiting until people are dead before I render 
 my tribute of applause and admiration ; and while I 
 would not bespatter any man or woman with fulsome ad- 
 ulation, so neither would I from a false delicacy withhold 
 from them what credit is justly their due. Therefore, I 
 now proceed to speak in terms of eulogy of one, than 
 whom no clergyman in America is more popular, or who 
 promises to accomplish a greater amount of good. 
 
 It was a night of darkness and of storm when I went 
 first to hear Henry Ward Beecher ; but " the fame of 
 his name" had reached me far over the water in another 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 223 
 
 land, and a blinding snow could not detain me at home 
 when such a man was to preach. On reaching Plymouth 
 church, in Orange-street, Brooklyn, N. Y., I found 
 crowds pressing into the church, although it yet wanted 
 more than half an hour of the time of commencing the 
 service. The inside of the house was crammed. 
 
 Now a man who can gather round his pulpit, Sunday 
 after Sunday, such an audience as I saw, must be a no 
 ordinary character. The Plymouth church is a very 
 spacious and handsome structure, and I was informed 
 that when Mr. Beecher preaches it is always filled. At 
 this I do not wonder, for few men possess such powers 
 of attraction, especially as regards the young. This 
 great church is a frightful place for a man to deliver 
 himself in, a frightful place, unless he can so charge 
 his words, that instead of gazing round upon vast va- 
 cancy, instead of giving forth his words to 
 
 " Bellow the vast and boundless deep," 
 
 they shall be so attractive as to crowd the spacious place. 
 How many men, think you, could be found to fill this 
 church ? How many preachers could attract so immense 
 a multitude ? but I have threaded my way to the place, 
 when not only the pews, but the aisles and every other 
 available space was occupied. The man who did this, 
 and one of the very few that have the power to do this, 
 I believe in all America, is Henry Ward Beecher. 
 
 The preacher rises from his seat and stands before us. 
 At once you perceive that he has the Beecher face, the 
 large liquid eyes, the full, lower part of the face, and 
 
224 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 the expansive brow. He appears more youthful than I 
 had supposed, judging from his wide-spread celebrity. 
 Nay, he looks, in some respects, almost boyish. There 
 is great power in that fine open face, much speculation 
 in those eyes, a world of sarcasm and humor in that 
 mouth.' You can see at once that his face is the index 
 of a fearless, generous, liberal soul, and such I have 
 reason to believe Mr. Beecher possesses. On the whole, 
 as you look at his face and person you cannot but come 
 to the conclusion that a man of mark is before yc^i. 
 
 His voice is rich and powerful, and he reads well. 
 But let us listen as he discourses, and glad are we that 
 he extemporizes. Did he read his sermons, we venture 
 to assert that he would not be half so effective as he is. 
 We have heard that in private life our preacher is gentle 
 and playful ; and you will find some difficulty in con- 
 ceiving, that the man so companionable in the parlor, 
 romping with children, bearing any amount of contra- 
 diction, is the same you behold so apparently bold and 
 vehement. Unconquerable will, and unconquerable gen- 
 tleness ; these are prominent- attributes of his mind. 
 
 I have fancied that Mr. H. W. Beecher has two 
 methods of addressing his hearers: his morning dis- 
 courses are, 
 
 "'.* " Orient pearls at randpm strung," 
 
 In the evening, he is frequently diffuse alike in ideas 
 and utterance, dilates, we should say, too much ; but in 
 the morning, as we have heard him, he more usually 
 addresses the experimental life of the Christian ; he 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 225 
 
 speaks more pertinently, his remarks are more "like 
 goads." They are more rememberable ; they are more 
 suggestive^ they appeal more to general information 
 and knowledge. Perhaps something of this is usually 
 the case with extemporaneous preachers. Morning ser- 
 vices have more of gentleness : the audience is smaller, 
 more Christian, and more loving. It is almost a test of 
 a minister's Christian life does he find himself more 
 at home preaching morning or evening ? The holier 
 heart will love the morning usually the best, for it will 
 address the nobler auditory : in the evening there is 
 more of human passion, more of effort, more of display. 
 John would preach best in the morning, talking to little 
 children ; Peter would preach best at night, impulsive, 
 fervid, vehement. We love our preacher's morning hor- 
 tations best ; but the evening is the time of crowds and 
 thronging multitudes ; and then we can very well be- 
 lieve that he, unconsciously to himself, throws aside the 
 axiom and the hint, and commits himself to a stream of 
 declamatory fervor. He does not speak without in- 
 structing ; and even in the very height of his heat and 
 tempest of speech, every word does appear to be bathed 
 in common sense. Common sense is the great charac- 
 teristic of his style : he appeals to the understanding. 
 Your teacher is perfectly honest with you ; he does not 
 perplex you with technicalities ; every word is downright 
 and plain. No wonder that the poor and illiterate as 
 well as the rich and learned flock to hear him. Oh, 
 what a relief it must be to listen to a man, a capable 
 man, who points every word so that it tells ; who sees, 
 
226 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 and believes himself all that he says, and who enters the 
 understandings of all his people by a path of light. 
 
 Our preacher is sometimes warm, vehement, bold, and 
 impassioned ; sometimes quiet, sententious, and slow ; 
 sometimes figurative, sometimes abounding with genuine 
 humor, occasionally he flings out such home truths as 
 the following, which occur in his remarks at the Anni- 
 versary of the New York Five Points Mission : 
 
 " When Christ went where there were sick, he healed 
 them ; where there was actual want, he created bread, 
 and came down to their physical condition. Take the 
 gospel to the miserable outcasts of our city, and no man 
 can preach it unless he does more. It is as though he 
 made a mark in the sand, and the first tide washes it 
 away. Preach the gospel, and the hunger of the man 
 makes him forget it. There is a great deal more gospel 
 in a loaf of bread, sometimes, than in an old dry sermon. 
 If I go to a man and bring to him in his want ever so 
 much philosophy, he will not hear it ; if I come down 
 and bring him bread and clothes and medicine, this will 
 give him a correct idea of the gospel, one which he can 
 appreciate and understand." 
 
 We may, in short, generalize Henry Ward Beecher 
 beneath one characterization ; he strikes us as a genuine 
 man, hating all shows and shams, and is not only a lover 
 of the truth, but one willing to make any sacrifice to up- 
 hold it and justice. 
 
 A writer in the Illustrated Magazine, speaking of the 
 Eev. H. W. Beecher says : 
 
 " His mode of preparation for his pulpit labor differs 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 227 
 
 very materially from that of the majority of preachers. 
 We have already stated, that when at college he studied 
 loth books and men; in his preparations for the pulpit 
 he seems to study men rather than books. During the 
 week he visits among all classes of persons, noticing 
 their peculiarities of character, and ascertaining their 
 mental and moral condition and necessities. On Sunday 
 morning so it is said he draws out upon paper the 
 outline of his sermon, and goes frpm his study to the 
 pulpit, when the ink is scarcely dry upon his paper, and 
 while his thoughts are fresh in his mind. An hour's nap 
 and a slight repast in the afternoon being taken, he pre- 
 pares in like manner for his evening sermon, and goes 
 again before a congregation of upwards of 2,000 per- 
 sons, the majority of whom lean forward m~l)reaihlfcss 
 silence to delineations of character, pathetic appeals, 
 and exposures of popular evils, such as few besides him- 
 self can give. 
 
 u Mr. Beecher paid a very short visit to the metropolis 
 of England in 1852, and spent a few days also in Paris. 
 During his stay in London, he won ' golden opinions ' 
 from the few with whom he had intercourse. One of 
 these few, an admirable judge of men and of preaching, 
 says of him : * Mr. Henry Ward Beecher is by far the 
 most amusing and fascinating American it has ever been 
 our lot to meet. He is a mass of flaming fire restless, 
 fearless, brilliant a mixture of the poet, the orator, 
 and the philosopher, such as we have seldom, if ever, 
 found in any other man to the same extent. He is viva- 
 cious beyond even the temperature of Paris, and mirth- 
 
228 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 ful even to wildness, seeming not to know that there is 
 such a thing as care or sorrow in the world.' " 
 
 Very recently, members of the Rev. Henry Ward 
 Beecher's church have presented him with a sum of 
 money, that he may build himself a country house. This 
 is as it should be. 
 
 Let me here give an episodical notice of an eminent 
 British Preacher, of whom, in regard of energy and 
 popularity Henry Ward Beecher somewhat reminds us. 
 I allude to the celebrated Hugh McNeile of Liverpool, 
 whose name must be familiar to many readers in America, 
 and who is, perhaps, at this moment, the most popular 
 preacher of the establishment in England. 
 
 That strange country which boasts of a Grattan, a Cur- 
 ran, an Emmett, a Moore, and of many of the brightest 
 stars in the hemisphere of genius, claims Hugh McNeile 
 as one of her most gifted sons : and he does no discredit 
 to the land of his birth ; for he possesses all that impet- 
 uosity of temperament, that versatility of talent, that 
 exuberance of imagination, and that affluence of imagery, 
 which have characterized some of the most celebrated 
 of the children of the Green Isle. Ballycastle, a place 
 near Belfast, was his birthplace. Dublin, was the spot 
 where his days of pupilage were passed. London was, 
 for a time, the field in which he battled for name and 
 fame; and, he is now the " observed of all observers" 
 in the town of Liverpool. 
 
 For a time, he was one of the most popular preachers 
 of the London pulpit. That was nearly twenty years 
 ago. Hither he had come from the Irish Metropolis, 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 229 
 
 with the prestige of an Hibernian success almost unpar- 
 alleled, and with all the collateral influence which a re- 
 lationship to the celebrated Archbishop Magee could 
 give him ; he having married that Prelate's daughter. 
 
 Dr. McNeile now rode on the tide of success. His 
 youth, his person, his uncommon talents, his untamed 
 energy, drew, Sunday after Sunday, admiring crowds. 
 From the peer to the parvenu, all were loud in their 
 praises of the young Irish preacher. Ladies were en- 
 raptured with his florid descriptions, his poetical meta- 
 phors, and his rhetorical flowers. Stiff churchmen were 
 delighted by his bold and fearless advocacy of their doc- 
 trines ; and that vast and non-descript class of persons, 
 who go wherever a popular preacher officiates, whatever 
 his creed may be, followed in the train, and lauded him 
 to the skies. Brilliant was his career; still more /brill- 
 iant was the vista of the future which stretched out be- 
 fore him. But alas ! the public is a fickle animal, and 
 popular applause is as variable 
 
 " As the shade 
 By the light quivering aspen made : " 
 
 something new was the great want of the day then, as it 
 is now, and novelty will always carry every thing before 
 it. No matter how absurd a creed is let it be but 
 strange and startling, and it is certain to attract. The 
 greatest favorite of the public, unless he has the tact 
 to vary his attractions, will in the end, find himself 
 lying high and dry on the beach of neglect and forget- 
 fulness. And this will be the case all the sooner, if it 
 20 
 
230 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR* 
 
 should happen that a counter attraction is offered to the 
 senses of the " million." So it happened in the instance 
 of Hugh McNeile. Not gradually, but all at once, 
 empty seats were to be seen in his church, where of late, 
 pews had been at a premium. The fees to the sexton 
 became alarmingly small, and the face of the beadle be- 
 came strangely lugubrious. Fortune, proverbially fickle, 
 in never more decided manner exemplified her attribute. 
 But what caused the defection from the quondam favor- 
 ite ? Had his energies declined ? By no means. 
 Were his sentences less skilfully balanced, or his periods 
 less carefully rounded ? Nothing of the sort. Had he 
 promulgated heretical doctrines or enunciated strange 
 opinions which were at variance with the Bible ? Far 
 from it. Was his daily life inconsistent with his public 
 ministrations ? No one could assert that. Yet, from 
 some cause or other, the influence he once possessed was 
 clearly all but gone. The magnet had lost its attraction, 
 and the human filings had ceased to cling to its pole. 
 The reason of all this was the simple fact that there were 
 now " two Richmonds in the field." Another wonderful 
 man had ascended the London pulpit stairs, and by his 
 very eccentricities of thought and action, was now carry- 
 ing all before him. The new comet, blazing with won- 
 drous brilliancy, a very gem in the heaven of intellect, 
 attracted every eye and dazzled all by its strange splen- 
 dor. The Irishman's star " paled its ineffectual fires," 
 as the Scottish meteor flashed through the firmament. 
 But transient indeed was that glitter and glory : in the 
 days of which we speak, however, its melancholy ex- 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 231 
 
 tinguishment was not at all, or but very dimly prognos- 
 ticated ; yet whilst it lasted, nothing could exceed the 
 enthusiasm of those who watched the phenomenon. Ed- 
 ward Irving, and Hugh McNeile, like two stars, could 
 not shine in one sphere. This, McNeile had the pene- 
 tration to discover before he wholly lost the ground he 
 had previously gained. The partial withdrawal of pub- 
 lic favor and popularity, must have galled one of so 
 susceptible a temperament as himself, for no philosophy, 
 we think, can entirely reconcile a man of genius to such 
 a change. What course aid he pursue ? He well knew 
 that the labor "of Sisyphus was an easy task compared 
 to that of him who should strive to regain lost popularity 
 in London. But there were " fresh fields and pastures 
 new" in which he might range, and so, preferring rather 
 to rule absolutely than to share a divided crown, he left 
 his rival in full possession of the public ear, and quitted 
 London for Liverpool; and in the Northern Metropolis 
 of Commerce he has ever since remained, exercising 
 perhaps a greater influence within its boundaries, than 
 any one other of its inhabitants its chief officer not 
 excepted. It has been said, and with truth, that Dr. 
 McNeile is "monarch of all he surveys," in his particu- 
 lar sphere of action. His will is indisputable, and his 
 word is law. Warwick was not more celebrated as a 
 King-maker, than is Dr. McNeile as a manufacturer of 
 Liverpool Mayors. Out of the pulpit as well as in it 
 he is all powerful, and even the ladies of Liverpool ac- 
 knowledge and bow to the authority of their idol, for 
 little short of an object of idolatry is he to the fair por- 
 
232 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 tion of his flock. And this is not in the least to be 
 wondered at, for seldom, if ever, has the pulpit been 
 occupied by one who, in his own person, contains so 
 many attractions, and whose mind is of so exalted an 
 order. 
 
 That we may convey to our readers a correct idea of 
 the " outward man" of this celebrated Divine, let us 
 visit his church. We have threaded the busy streets of 
 Liverpool, and arrive at the building where he officiates, 
 full half an hour before the tvc/e appointed for commenc- 
 ing the service. But difficu* indeed is it to gain ad- 
 mission, and still more arduous is the endeavor to leave 
 the thronged aisles, and secure a snug pew. 
 
 Still increases the crowd, until at length the spacious 
 building is literally crammed with humanity ; the bon- 
 neted portion of the congregation being evidently in the 
 majority, as usual. And a perfect blaze of beauty is 
 presented by this' assemblage of Lancashire Witches. 
 It is not, however, exactly the place or time, to indulge 
 in criticisms on countenances, so, with an effort we fix 
 our eyes on our prayer-book, strive to check our wan- 
 dering thoughts, and join, we trust sincerely, in the de- 
 votional exercises of the evening. 
 
 The prayers are ended, a hymn is being sung, and 
 whilst its last line lingers on the lips of the congregation, 
 the minister of the place appears in the pulpit. A 
 glance tells us that McNeile is before us, for portraits 
 innumerable have made us familiar with the exact fea- 
 tures of his countenance and a significant countenance 
 it. is! 
 

 PEN-PICTURES. 233 
 
 Tall, but not stout, is the figure of Dr. McNeile, and 
 very graceful does it look, attired as it is in the flowing 
 robes of the Church. But the face is what rivets one's 
 attention, by its remarkable charm. I will endeavor to 
 describe it. 
 
 Phrenologists might fall into fits of rapture, when sur- 
 veying the lofty and expansive forehead of our subject, 
 and painters might rdjfrkje at the bold sweep of the now 
 almost white hair, which partially overshadows it, and 
 which is so carelessly, vet so picturesquely disposed. 
 But the eyes, certainly, to%he great majority of observ- 
 ers, Would form, the chief points of attraction. These 
 are wonderfully fine ; large, dark, and glowing, yet pos- 
 sessing a peculiar gazelle-like softness, they surpass, in 
 beauty, all other eyes which we have seen in mortal 
 orbits. There is, too, when their owner is pouring forth 
 his eloquent denunciations, a defiant boldness in them, 
 which is haply characteristic of the speaker's mind. 
 And remarkably varied is their expression. Now soft 
 and dewy, as those of the gazelle's, and which, without 
 any straining after similes, they resemble, now flashing 
 with indignant fire ; now beaming with tenderness, and 
 anon possessing a sternness which makes -one almost quail 
 beneath their gaze. The nose is finely formed, the 
 mouth most delicately chiselled, and, like the eyes, ca- 
 pable of a vast variety of expression. Who that has 
 seen and heard McNeile has not noted how scornfully 
 the upper lip can curl, or how sweet is the smile which 
 at other times lingers there. The complexion is a mix- 
 ture of pure white and red, and, take Dr. McNeile alto- 
 20* 
 
234 PULPIT PORTRAITS I OR, 
 
 gether, it would be difficult to discover another in whom 
 fine mental and physical qualifications so happily meet 
 and combine. 
 
 How often does it occur and every person's expe- 
 rience proves it that a single defect mars a whole 
 cluster of excellences. The peacock attracts us by its 
 green and golden plumage, but scares us by the harsh- 
 ness and dissonance of his cry. jjkart not, reader ; we 
 have not the slightest idea of associating the manly at- 
 tractions of McNeile with the .glittering glory of a bird. 
 What we mean is that, in m^ny cases, the disagreeable 
 voice of a minister alone banishes from our minds all the 
 favorable impressions which his personal appearance had 
 excited. It is not so, however, in the instance of our 
 present subject.; the tone is to the full as harmonious as 
 we might have been led to expect from the appearance 
 of the instrument. 
 
 To drop metaphor, the voice of Dr. McNeile is won- 
 derfully fine, and is as superior to that of any other per- 
 son we have ever heard, as the tones of the organ is to 
 that of any other musical instrument. To thoroughly 
 understand what a voice it is, it must be heard, for how 
 can a pen hope to describe the peculiarities of sound ? 
 Suffice it to say, that all who have heard McNeile agree 
 in asserting that no pulpit orator of our day possesses so 
 remarkable a vocal organ. At times its tones are music 
 itself; and on no occasion are they harsh or discordant. 
 There is a majesty, too, in his manner, which wonderfully 
 adds to the effect of his utterance. His action is ener- 
 getic, yet graceful ; and dignified, though simple ; and 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 235 
 
 whilst exhibiting the graces of oratory, he never degen- 
 erates into feebleness, or disgusts with strainings after 
 effect. His vigorous mind preserves him from the former 
 evil, and his strong good sense effectually prevents him 
 from nauseating us with the latter. 
 
 No one can be inattentive, we think, whilst McNeile 
 is preaching. The very first sentence he utters secures 
 attention, and each succeeding remark increases it. The 
 great feature of his oratory is boldness boldness, per- 
 haps arising as much from a consciousness of his own 
 powers, as from a conviction that he is uttering great 
 truths. But with all our respect and admiration for Dr. 
 McNeile, we'do not consider him to be a deep thinker 
 there is great talent, but little profundity in his pulpit 
 discourses and, popular as he is, we venture to say 
 that he shines less in the pulpit than on the platform. 
 There he is at home, for released from those trammels 
 which the clergyman must feel around him in the sacred 
 desk, he can give a loose rein to his impetuous temper, 
 and allow his eloquence to take broader and bolder 
 flights. Who that has seen him on the platform of Exe- 
 ter Hall, and there witnessed his form dilate, and his 
 eye kindle, as he launched forth the thunderbolts of his 
 eloquent indignation against the Romish Church, will not 
 agree with us in thinking that, great as he is in his 
 church at Liverpool, he is still greater as the orator of 
 the public meeting, or the controversialist of the Theo- 
 logical Arena. 
 
236 PULPIT PORTKAITS: OR. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 A CLUSTER OF CHURCHES. MOUNT VERNON CHURCH. THE 
 CHOIR. CONGREGATIONAL SINGING. THE REV. E. N. 
 KIRK. SKETCH OF HON .' AND REV. BAPTIST W. NOEL. 
 
 WHAT a cluster of churches ! This surely cannot be 
 the "bad eminence" of which we have heard so much, 
 for on this hill-top are five or six places of religious wor- 
 ship almost crowding upon each other. We are now 
 standing in front of one, rich in Gothic adornments, which 
 a friend beside us, who is somewhat strongly tinctured 
 with the rigid simplicity of Puritanism pronounces to be 
 too ornate for a Temple dedicated to the worship of 
 God. With him, in this opinion, we cannot agree. We 
 have, we confess it, a liking for the munificence of ec- 
 clesiastical fancies ; the stained glass, through which 
 
 " The light from high-arched windows thrown 
 Turns into gems the pavement stone ; " 
 
 the Aaronic and Mosaic figures, the Eaptist and St. 
 Paul,' in carving; the rich, loud organ, and the altar 
 piece, all this we like, aye, and perhaps more, for God 
 should be worshipped with the best of every thing ; 
 best architecture, best painting, best music, best sculp- 
 ture, best poetry, and best genius. 
 But this Swedenborgian Church is not the one to 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 237 
 
 which we are bound to-day. So quitting its precincts, we 
 soon reach Ashburton Place, where is situated Mount 
 Vernon Church, in which officiates the subject of our 
 present sketch, the Rev. Edward N. Kirk. Among all 
 the men of this book ther& are none mor^ worthy of an 
 extended notice. There is not one more esteemed, or 
 popular in Boston. Well could we devote long space to 
 an analysis of his mind and his method, in its relation to 
 the times ; but see, our volume approaches its close, 
 and we shall soon have altogether to lay down our pen. 
 
 Before we sketch the minister and his method of 
 preaching, let us say a few words respecting the Mount 
 Vernon Church, and fortunately for us, we have ready 
 to our hand a brief account of it, which we extract from 
 Grlcason's Pictorial. The writer says : 
 
 " On the morning of Wednesday, June 1, 1842, a 
 new church of forty-seven members was organized in 
 Park Street Church, and upon the same day, Mr. Kirk 
 was installed its pastor by the same ecclesiastical council 
 that assembled to organize the church. For more than, 
 a year the society worshipped in the lecture room of the 
 Masonic Temple, when on the 4th of January, 1844, 
 just six months from the day on which the corner stone 
 was laid, the chaste and beautiful church in which the 
 congregation now worship was solemnly dedicated to Al- 
 mighty God. The site chosen for the church is one of 
 the finest that could have been selected elevated, 
 quiet, and surrounded by a dense and intelligent popula- 
 tion. The name chosen for this church, Mount Vernon 
 Congregational, and the name by which the place is now 
 
238 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 known, Ashburton, are both noble names, that pleasantly 
 suggest America and the fatherland. The holy men 
 and women engaged in this religious enterprise were 
 kindred spirits, just such as the preaching of Mr. Kirk 
 would set on foe ; and his life and character would win 
 to himself, ana through him to a closer walk with God. 
 The chosen band of forty-seven were favored with ardent 
 piety, intelligence, wealth, talent, and more than all, 
 and above all, a disposition to use them for the further- 
 ance of Christ's kingdom in the earth. The Nestor, or 
 rather the Nehemiah in this enterprise, was the pastor, 
 who, with a thorough education, with ten years of pas- 
 toral experience, with the benefits of some extensive 
 travel, with an unusual acquaintance with men and 
 things, with burning devotion to his work, with the com- 
 bined accomplishment of the gentleman and Christian, 
 the orator and the pastor, was entirely qualified to lead 
 on this infant church, under the glorious Captain of its 
 salvation, to a ripened maturity in the course of a single 
 decade. The work has been done. During the eleven 
 years of the history of the church, it has had, perhaps, 
 unparalleled success. More than eight hundred persons 
 have been added to its communion, and in June, 1852, 
 there remained connected witWB^ church, five hundred 
 and seventy-three members. It has sent out hundreds 
 to aid in forming other churches, and to perform various 
 good offices in the church and in the world. On Sunday, 
 June 5th of this year, Mr. Kirk preached in his own 
 church his eleventh anniversary sermon." 
 
 The interior of Mount Vernon Church is plainly- 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 239 
 
 elegant, if we may be allowed to make use of such a 
 compound form. There is an air of quiet repose about 
 it, and nothing gaudy or out of taste offends the eye. 
 As we enter, a hymn is being very finely sung, one rich 
 female voice in particular^^ng the building with its de- 
 licious harmony, and yetipblending harmoniously with 
 the tones from other lips, distinct above, but not over- 
 powering them. The organ, that prince of instruments, 
 is beautifully playda, and taken altogether, we have sel- 
 dom heard finer choir singing than that at Mount Ver- 
 non. But, after all, we question whether congregational 
 singing is not far better and more appropriate than the 
 best mere vocal exhibition in the world. And besides, 
 it is, we think, somewhat ridiculous for about a dozen 
 persons to utter the words, 
 
 " Sweet is the work, my God, my King, 
 To praise thy name, give thanks and sing," 
 
 when the tongues of all but the choir are silent. And 
 it is a little like an absurdity too for a whole congre- 
 gation to stand with sealed lips when a few only in front 
 of the organ sing, 
 
 " Come let us join our cheerful songs ; " 
 
 "~\ 
 as if the good folks below had little more to do with the 
 
 matter, than to keep their hymn-books open in order to 
 see if the verses were rightly delivered, or to .merely 
 criticise the execution. 
 
 Mr. Kirk's pulpit appearance is impressive. "Without 
 going into any minute analysis of its separate features, 
 
240 PULPIT PORTRAITS: on, 
 
 we may observe that the characteristic expression of his 
 face is a grave sweetness combined with dignity and 
 solemnity. Although he is very far from " venerable," 
 his hair already betrays the truth, that youth has de- 
 parted. He seems, in fac^to be in the very meridian 
 of his day of usefulness. J^J^fect ease of manner tells 
 us that he has been much habituated to intercourse with 
 men and manners. The same writer from whom we just 
 now quoted, says: 
 
 " He was born in New York, graduated at Princeton 
 College, and immediately directed his attention to the 
 law as his profession. Near this time, through the prov- 
 idence and grace of God, he became interested in the 
 gospel, which he in future made his study instead of the 
 law. Returning to Princeton, the ancient seat of an 
 excellent " school of the prophets," he studied divinity. 
 He first became known to the American churches as a 
 preacher in behalf of missions, under the auspices of the 
 American Board of Missions. So favorable an impres- 
 sion did he make while engaged in this work, that he 
 received a favorable call to settle over a new church in 
 Albany, N. Y., which he accepted. Here he labored 
 for some ten years with remarkable success, when he 
 accepted an appointment to visit Europe as the repre- 
 sentative of a society in this country, whose object was 
 to infuse Christian life into the Roman Catholic countries 
 of Europe. Mr. Kirk spent several years abroad, in 
 which he made good use of his time in advancing the 
 interests of this society, and in self culture. He re- 
 turned to this country about the year 1840, and preached 
 
PEN-PICTUKES. 241 
 
 in different cities with such power and effect, that it 
 seemed as though a young Whitefield had arrived upon 
 our shores, and had entered our pulpits. He labored as 
 an evangelist from city to city, and from town to town, 
 for a considerable time, frowds hanging on his lips by 
 day and by night, while he gained more decisive proof 
 that he was not laboring in vain. While thus engaged 
 in 1 840-1 > several active Christians of the Orthodox 
 Congregational Churches had their eyes fixed on him as 
 a suitable person to become the pastor of a new church, 
 which they conceived should be formed in Boston." 
 
 Seldom have we listened to a pleasanter, or more im- 
 pressive voice than that of Mr. Kirk, as he reads a 
 hymn. There is a slight tremulousness in it which be- 
 tokens that the reader feels the sentiments of the author. 
 The soul seems to tremble under the influence of the 
 emotional excitement. Free from everything that could 
 impose, or attract, or excite by appeals to the senses 
 yet the recital of a hymn from those lips thrills us 
 as we never were thrilled before ; and you observe that, 
 in reading the Scriptures, you are listening to a para- 
 phrase, to a new translation, to a running exposition, in 
 which is substance and matter for many sermons. But 
 the prayer oh, the prayer ! how shall that be charac- 
 terized ? And indeed, we all feel that prayer is no sub- 
 ject for comment ; and yet did you ever listen to prayer 
 like this ? quiet, deep, the hushed fluttering of a dove- 
 like spirit through the heaven of its devout contempla- 
 tions ; this we may notice in it, that Adoration, and As- 
 cription, and Devotion, form so large a portion of it, and 
 21 
 
242 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OK % 
 
 Petition so little. It is in prayer that we feel how 
 powerful is the voice of God and Eternity in the soul of 
 our teacher our confidence in him is deepened. We 
 know that he has travelled into " the heavenly places." 
 Oh, reader, the human heart ^ deep and deceptive ; but 
 do we not all know our instructor by the tone of his 
 prayers ? do not his supplications make our best music ? 
 And when our preacher discourses to us, he still lin- 
 gers near the light that rayed through his prayer like the 
 glory round a Shekinah or a Shrine. Subjects, how re- 
 markable, how simple, how full of majesty, how full of 
 love, how full of light. We have never heard Mr. Kirk, 
 but we have been disposed to apply to him the words of 
 Salis, so beautifully translated by Longfellow. 
 
 " Into the silent land, 
 Oh ! who shall lead us thither ? 
 Clouds in the evening sky more darkly gather, 
 And scattered wrecks lie thicker on the strand. 
 Who leads us with a gentle hand, 
 
 Hither and thither, 
 Into the silent land ? 
 
 "Oh land! oh land! 
 For all the broken hearted ! 
 The mildest herald by fate allotted, 
 
 Beckons, and with inverted torch, doth stand, 
 To lead us with a gentle hand, 
 
 Into the land of the great departed 
 Into the silent land." 
 
 SILENCE AND SOLITUDE those great teachers, those 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 243 
 
 wonderful ministering angels from these our friend 
 derives to a great extent the main portions of the in- 
 structions which he deals forth to his people. And 
 perhaps most of us would need few preachers at all, if 
 we could but allow silence to put its word into our 
 minds, if we did not so dread solitude and loneliness. 
 But we can talk of solitude better than we can endure 
 it. We can be eloquent upon silence, " but we cannot 
 sit still." * 
 
 But the pastor commences his sermon, and as he does 
 so the question suggests itself: Upon the whole, what 
 do we want most in preaching ? Even this, that a sub- 
 ject should be placed, not in an atmo^iere of sound, 
 but an atmosphere of light. The gift of hearing was 
 conferred, not, we take it, to be a means of confounding 
 the perceptions, and bamboozling the understanding, but 
 as an avenue to the mind, in order that it may see ; and 
 so with images, since the world was made, and men be- 
 gan to speak freely, and things acquired a spiritual sig- 
 nificance Symbolism, how few of all the tropes and 
 figures used have been understood or used to any pur- 
 pose. Time was when every figure was an analogy, 
 and suggested instantly a prompt resemblance to the 
 matter in hand ; but now they are more freakish, and 
 their forms far less definite and obvious than the glasses 
 of a Kaliedoscope. Perspicuity of style demands much 
 more than the mere grammatical perspicuity of a sen- 
 tence ; it demands that the whole array of the thought, 
 and the subject, should be marshalled before the hearer's 
 mind. The style of these fine writers is like the setting 
 
244 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 sun beheld through a mountain mist all things are 
 confused everything lies shapeless and undefined ; yet 
 you feel a sense of splendor, and you see a shadowing 
 forth of glory ; you see enough and feel enough, to say, 
 " Oh, that the sun were shining clear and bright to-day ! " 
 A characteristic of Mr. Kirk's preaching is his power 
 of painting. His soul is filled with poetry of the richest 
 order ; he does not, like some Artists, overcolor to con- 
 ceal the poverty of his conceptions ; ke does not attempt 
 to atone for the weakness of his Epic by the pomp of 
 his Phraseology ; his colors are simple, but they are 
 exquisite ; he presents to us gems like those of Anthony 
 Waterloo, or Wilkie, and he frequently gives to us a 
 depth of scenery like that we admire in Cuyp. He can 
 describe gloriously. He throws in the shades of pathos, 
 and then, he holds all the hearts of his hearers in his 
 hands. And now a summer tint, and the eye recognizes 
 it, and the heart resumes its courage ; he must have the 
 eye of an artist, keen, detective, discriminative ; he does 
 not care about finishing the pictures he holds up ; it is 
 sufficient that the likeness is seen. He seldom dips his 
 pencil in yellow and purple; the gamboge and the 
 chrome do not here, as in many pictures, make the eye 
 ache with their glaring rays. Then he does not crowd 
 many objects together, (another freak with many pain- 
 ters,) to bewilder you with the many, and so prevent 
 your criticisms upon the one. No ; but the living picture 
 seen by the audience is reflected to their eye from its 
 lying warm upon the preacher's heart. Such was the 
 picture of Blind Bartimeus, which we listened to a few 
 

 PEN-PICTURES. 245 
 
 months since, just prior to Mr. Kirk's departure for 
 Europe. 
 
 Very few ministers are more beloved by their congre- 
 gations than is Mr. Kirk. In the early part of the 
 present year he received an invitation from a church in 
 Philadelphia, but so attached was he to his Boston flock, 
 that he could not be tempted to quit the scone of his 
 successful labors. Just before he last left America for 
 a foreign tour, he preached a farewell discourse, from a 
 text which he had selected eleven years before, when he 
 first took charge of the society. The passage was from 
 the 24th chapter of Luke, the 49th verse : " And be- 
 hold I send the promise of my Father upon you ; but 
 tarry ye in the city of Jerusalem, until ye be endued 
 with power from on high." In the course of his late 
 discourse he is reported as stating as follows : " In the 
 year 1852, more united with this church than in any 
 previous year, there being fifty-four added on profession 
 of their faith. Since the organization of the church 
 and that, too, in a time of universal drought more 
 than four hundred have been hopefully converted, and 
 two hundred and ninety-nine have joined us, coming out 
 from the world, and seeking the things that pertain to 
 eternal life. We have also done much in the way of 
 conquering our covetousness. During the last year the 
 sum of $9,100 had been contributed by this church for 
 benevolent objects, and so far the amount has been in- 
 creased this year." 
 
 There is one minister in England, who in many points 
 resembles Mr. Kirk. I refer to that well-known Divine, 
 21* 
 
246 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 the Rev. Baptist Noel. And as it is probable that ere 
 long this gentleman will visit America, I will conclude 
 this sketch of the pastor of Mount Vernon church by an 
 outline of the London Preacher. 
 
 No one can glance at Baptist Noel, without instinct- 
 ively feeling that a man of " birth and breeding" stands 
 before him ; for let a certain set of people, whose delight 
 it is to rail at all who are placed in a superior position to 
 their own, say what they will, there is a peculiar air 
 about our aristocracy, which is decisive and distinctive ; 
 a style which is " to the manner born," and which can- 
 not be acquired. Every one knows that a gentleman is 
 not a manufactured article, and that, to parody Moore's 
 couplet, 
 
 You may spangle and dress up a man as you will, 
 But the stamp of the vulgar will stick to him still. 
 
 Let it be remembered, we by no means desire to imply, 
 that gentlemen are only to be found in the circles of the 
 titled and rich. Far from it. We have met men who 
 would adorn any position, in the humblest walks of life ; 
 and on the other hand have fallen in with blackguards 
 of the first water, who are living libels on the nobility 
 which they disgrace. 
 
 But let us picture Baptist Noel, as he appears in the 
 pulpit. 
 
 Those of our readers who may have seen the portraits 
 of Reginald Heber, the Bishop of Calcutta, will have 
 little difficulty in imagining the cast of Baptist Noel's 
 countenance. It is a remarkably attractive one; and 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 247 
 
 its attractive power lies in the serenity which pervades 
 it. A high, broad forehead, indicates the possession of 
 considerable intellectual power; and across it, rather 
 carelessly, sweeps long light-brown hair, which leaves the 
 left temple exposed. The eyes are of a grayish blue, if 
 such a blending of tints is allowable ; and they have a 
 solemnly-sweet expression. It seems at first sight rather 
 ridiculous to describe a man's nose but prominent 
 feature as it is, it is not to be neglected. Mr. Noel's 
 nasal organ is slightly aquiline ; well " chiselled," to 
 use an artistic phrase, and in " harmony" with the other 
 features. The mouth is well-shaped and very expressive, 
 and the chin is rather long. The shape of the entire 
 face is oval, and the head is gracefully set on the shoul- 
 ders. Mr. Noel's figure is symmetrical ; in height he is 
 slightly above the medium stature ; and clad in the 
 habiliments of his sacred profession, he stands the very 
 personification of that dignity and gentleness which should 
 ever characterize the Christian Minister. 
 
 From the moment Baptist Noel commences his dis- 
 course, the attention of the hearer is riveted. His 
 voice is melodious in the extreme ; one more musical we 
 think we never heard. Well do we remember the time 
 when it first fell on our ears. The reverend gentleman 
 had been announced to preach an anniversary sermon for 
 the Church Missionary Society, in the fine old church of 
 St. Mary, Redcliffe, Bristol. At that time, Mr. Noel 
 was in the zenith of his popularity as a pulpit orator ; 
 but his chastened eloquence was not the only attraction, 
 his known liberal opinions had gained him " golden opin- 
 
218 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 ions'' among all classes of Dissenters; many of the 
 most rigid of these sturdy Nonconformists, and obstinate 
 resisters of church-rates people who would, on other 
 occasions, have as soon thought of visiting Pandemonium 
 as a Parish Church, now flocked to hear Noel. His 
 habit of extemporaneous preaching, too, enlisted him in 
 their favor ; for many of them had, and have, for aught 
 we know, a thorough contempt for read sermons. In 
 short, Baptist Noel was, to use a stereotyped theatrical 
 phrase, a " favorite." Even at that period, now some 
 fifteen years ago, clear-headed men declared that he was 
 a " great deal too liberal for the Church," and prophesied 
 that with his views, he could not long remain within its 
 pale. The event of the last year has verified their pre- 
 dictions. But we must not anticipate. 
 
 Clear as the sound of a silver bell sounded the musical 
 voice of Baptist Noel, beneath the lofty ceiling, and 
 along the columned aisles of the old church which we 
 have incidentally referred to. Vast as the building was, 
 and filled with echoes, each word which fell from his lips 
 was most distinctly audible in the most remote parts of 
 the church. The Missionary work was his theme, a most 
 congenial topic for one whose expansive benevolence is 
 universally admitted. From a little Bible which he held 
 in his hand, he read the text, and then proceeded to 
 elucidate his subject. Commencing with a general allu- 
 sion to it, in the shape of a graceful exordium, he speedily 
 arrived at the chief point of his discourse, and then, 
 with a graceful fluency, he reviewed the condition and 
 prospects of that Missionary Society, whose interests ho 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 249 
 
 was advocating. On such a field he was, to use a com- 
 mon but expressive phrase, " at home." Listening to 
 his details of Missionary labor, in various parts of the 
 world, was what might be termed a verbal panoramic 
 treat. Coleridge, in one of his dreamy moods, said, 
 "My eyes make pictures when they are shut;" and it 
 may be remarked, that when Baptist Noel takes his 
 hearers on a pulpit Missionary tour, he brings vividly 
 before their mental vision the scenes he describes. In 
 effect, Missionary advocacy is his forte. Seated com- 
 fortably in your pew, with half-closed eyes, it is a posi- 
 tive luxury to accompany him, in imagination, as he 
 traverses the Missionary world. The graceful palm of 
 India waves its feathery foliage beneath unclouded skies, 
 and under its welcome shade we behold the proud Brah- 
 min abandoning his idols, and leaving Vishnu for Christ. 
 The Pacific, studded with island-gems, lies blue and 
 broad before us, and on them we behold temples rising, 
 and civilization extending, and cruelty departing. And 
 now 
 
 " The spicy breezes 
 Blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle ;" 
 
 and in that home of all that is beautiful in the Physical 
 Creation, we see idols thrown to the moles and the bats, 
 and gentleness substituted for violence. Still onward 
 we go, and behold that great and mysterious country, 
 China, partially opened before us. There we see the 
 laborious Gutzlaff toiling in the midst of an indeed 
 " perverse generation." Rises before us, too, the Pagoda 
 
250 PULPIT PORTRAITS : OR, 
 
 and the Joss house, and we view the boat-crowded river, 
 and on its banks the Missionary Church. Again we 
 speed on our world-journey and cross the deserts of the 
 African Continent, Sierra Leone, as lovely a spot to 
 look upon as ever gladdened the eye of mortal, but 
 nevertheless the " white man's grave," rises picturesquely 
 from the sea ; but there, regardless of the pestilence 
 that walketh by noon-day, works the Missionary, the 
 graves of his predecessors full in view, and with the 
 ever-present feeling that in every breath he draws may 
 float the elements of death. The fruitful Islands of the 
 "West are visited lands where the oppressor's chain is 
 broken, and the slave groans no more. And to many 
 other portions of the earth's surface does the preacher, 
 in imagination, convey us ; and then, by a forcible ap- 
 peal to his hearers, he convinces them of the claims of 
 the Missionary Society, and concludes his energetic, yet 
 calm discourse, by a personal application of his text to 
 the consciences of those to whom he has been preaching. 
 On ordinary occasions, Mr. Noel's sermons are char- 
 acterized by an uniform excellence. Those who go to 
 hear him, in the expectation of meeting with something 
 strange or startling, will be assuredly disappointed. His 
 eloquence is like the course of a calm river, gentle, and 
 musical in its flow. From the moment he commences 
 his sermon, until its conclusion, embracing usually about 
 an hour, or an hour and a quarter, there is not the 
 slightest impediment or interruption to the stream of his 
 matter. And his voice is seldom raised above the pitch 
 in which he commences ; but then it is too musical, and 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 251 
 
 too gently modulated, to be monotonous. His sentences, 
 carefully constructed, are remarkably smooth, and we 
 imagine are the results of study-practice. This, how- 
 ever, is not marred by anything approaching to pedantry, 
 for no one can hear Mr. Noel, and believe, for a moment, 
 that the weakness of affectation clings to him. His prin- 
 cipal fault, as a preacher, is elaboration ; sometimes he 
 dilates an idea until almost all trace of it is lost, or it is 
 but faintly perceived. This is not an habitual fault ; 
 nevertheless, it is sufficiently frequent to mar the effects 
 of some of his pulpit productions. His action is slight, 
 graceful, and such as might be supposed in a man of his 
 disposition. 
 
 A great, and distinctive feature in the preaching of 
 the Rev. Baptist Noel is his frequent use of Scriptural 
 quotations. These, whatever may be the topic of his 
 discourse, are most felicitously introduced, not dragged 
 in. We have heard some ministers fit, as it were, their 
 subjects to certain passages, for the sake of a display of 
 Biblical erudition, forgetful of the rule that the extract 
 should aptly illustrate the subject matter. In Mr. Noel's 
 case the quotations fall easily and naturally into their 
 proper places, and invariably throw light upon, or confirm 
 that which preceded them. We know but of one other 
 minister who excels in this respect, and who, equally 
 with Mr. Noel, enjoys the reputation, and deservedly 
 too, of being a " Bible Preacher." We refer to the 
 Rev. James Sherman, the successor to Rowland Hill. 
 
252 . PULPIT PORTRAITS I OR, 
 
 " The time might come when I may deem it necessary 
 that I should secede from the Church of England ; that 
 time has not yet come ; nor do I see any probability of 
 its speedy arrival." Such were the words which the 
 Rev. Baptist Noel uttered on the platform of the Music 
 Hall, in Store street, fifteen or sixteen years ago, at a 
 public meeting. The time, however, did come, and one 
 fine morning, the religious world of London was startled 
 by the announcement, that the popular Minister of St. 
 John's Chapel, Bedford Row, was about to quit the 
 Church of England, of which he had been so long a 
 member and an ornament, and join the great body of 
 Dissenters. Many had been prepared for this step on 
 the part of Mr. Noel, but on the majority of Churchmen 
 the announcement fell like a thunder-clap. Then arose 
 the question, to which body of Dissenters was he about 
 to attach himself, and many were the conjectures on this 
 point. Until the matter was positively known, Inde- 
 pendents, Wesleyans, Baptists, and Huntingdonians, 
 claimed him as their own ; and in the expectation, that 
 on the occasion of his farewell sermon, the preacher 
 would mention the sect of his selection, that discourse 
 was looked forward to with the most intense interest. 
 
 Never, perhaps, had been witnessed so much excite- 
 ment in the neighborhood of St. John's Chapel, as on 
 the last Sunday of Mr. Noel's ministrations there. 
 Hours before the doors were opened, Chapel street was 
 thronged from end to end by eager people ; and, when 
 at length the entrances were free, the multitude rushed 
 in, and took forcible possession of private pews by clam- 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 253 
 
 bering over them, and in a very few minutes completely 
 filled the edifice. For a time, the scene was one of 
 . utter confusion. When, at length, the sermon com- 
 menced, all ears were opened to hear the preacher's 
 reasons for leaving his pastorate ; but, to the disappoint- 
 ment of all, a simple, faithful, scriptural sermon was 
 preached and the subject which had been looked for 
 was scarcely alluded to. In a few weeks afterwards, all 
 doubt on the subject was dispelled by the public baptism, 
 by immersion, of Mr. Noel, in the Rev. James Harring- 
 ton Evans's Chapel, John street. On that occasion he 
 delivered an appropriate address, which, as it has been 
 published and extensively circulated, we need not quote 
 from in this place ; and shortly afterwards appeared 
 a bulky volume, in which Mr. Noel, at considerable 
 length, explained his reasons for seceding from the 
 Establishment, and joining the Baptist body of Chris- 
 tians. 
 
 The exultation of the Dissenters at this accession to 
 their ranks was unbounded. Mr. Noel's book ran 
 rapidly through many editions and the ministers of 
 several denominations read portions from it on stated 
 evenings in their vestries to those of their congregations 
 who could not afford to pay for it. Now, however, the 
 excitement has subsided, and the Hon. and Rev. Baptist 
 Noel, instead of being a minister of the Establishment, 
 occupies the comparatively humble position of Pastor of 
 the Chapel in which he was baptized he having suc- 
 ceeded to the pulpit which became vacant at the death 
 of Mr. Evans. The once Chaplain to the Queen is now 
 22 
 
254 PULPIT PORTRAITS: OR, 
 
 preacher to a Congregation, amongst which are numbered 
 some of the poorest of her subjects for on the occasion 
 of a recent visit to John Street Chapel, we sat next to 
 an individual in the free seats, who, perhaps, fancying 
 long coat-sleeves a luxury, wore his no lower than his 
 elbows. There are, however, many wealthy persons 
 among the congregation and it may be added, that a 
 considerable number of Mr. Noel's former hearers at 
 the Church have followed his example, and worship with 
 him in the Chapel, which latter is but a few hundred 
 yards from the former. 
 
 Some people are apt, when talking of heroes, to im- 
 agine that those only are entitled to the laurel crown 
 who " wade through fields of slaughter." This hero- 
 worship is confined to the Caesars, the Soults, the Wel- 
 lingtons, and the Napoleons of History. But the battle 
 plain is not the only field from whence heroes spring, or 
 where bold deeds are wrought. Humble life can and 
 does furnish numerous examples of heroism, un-noted it 
 may be by the historian, but not the less heroism for the 
 omission from history's page. Our daily paths' ire filled 
 with heroes. The self-criminated drunkard, who, spite 
 of derision and inclination, bursts the ignoble chain which 
 long had bound him, is a moral hero. And the meek, 
 enduring woman, who, through seasons of severe trial, 
 has held on her way uncomplainingly, though scourged 
 by the neglect of him who should have been her guar- 
 dian ; and who, with a dark cloud ever over her, has 
 trained her children with a strong pious endeavor, is a 
 heroine aye, as great, or a greater one than Joan of 
 
PEN-PICTURES. 255 
 
 Arc ; and he who long has fostered one set of principles, 
 but finding by some burst of light that they were erro- 
 neous, abandons them, is a hero too. Remembering 
 this, we may easily suppose that it required no light 
 effort for Baptist Noel to leave a long-cherished Church, 
 and bid adieu to strongly attached friends for con- 
 science' sake. During the whole of his career, mild and 
 beneficent as it has been, he possessed that great gift 
 a decisiveness of character. This was strikingly appa- 
 rent some years since, when the Bishop of London made 
 his fierce onslaught on the London City Mission. 
 
 To the eternal honor of Baptist Noel be it recorded, 
 that he was the only clergyman who scorned the Prelate's 
 threat, that those of the Ministers of the Establishment 
 in his diocese, who refused to abandon that Society, 
 should be ejected from their pulpits. Refuse he did 
 but ejected he was not. 
 
 At first sight it appears rather strange to behold Mr. 
 Noel in the pulpit of a Baptist Chapel, divested of gown 
 and bands. The strange feeling, however, soon wears 
 off; for there is the same classic head, the serene eye, 
 the same sweet and dignified expression, and the same 
 musical voice. The sincerity, too, is quite as genuine, 
 the appeals quite as fervent, and the piety as sincere as 
 ever. The scene of the Christian's labor is altered ; 
 the labor of the Christian is as devotedly pursued as 
 ever. And why not? After all, worshippers of the 
 Son of Righteousness gaze on the same orb, and reflect 
 
256 PULPIT PORTHAITS. 
 
 his brightness, though different be the points, and " wide 
 as the poles asunder" from whence they gaze. Blind 
 bigots they who arrogate to their own sect the right to 
 point the road to Heaven ! 
 
 Mr. Noel has figured as an author as well as a 
 preacher. They who are curious to see him " in print " 
 may be glad to know that he is the author of " Notes of 
 a tour in Ireland, in 1835," and of several pamphlets. 
 Many of his sermons have been published in the periodi- 
 cals of the day in fact he has been a fortune to young 
 stenographers, who have made a market of his dis- 
 courses. He has also published a volume of verses, of 
 which candor compels us to say, that they contain more 
 piety than poetry. 
 
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