One should be very cautious not to assume that his hearers are wicked, impious, or unbelieving. The people do not relish such imputations: they don't like reproaches; neither do you, dear reader. They rarely do any good, and often much harm.
If it is deemed desirable to censure a fault, a vice, or a scandal, such delinquencies may be treated of in a general way, and energetically denounced. In applying the lesson to your hearers, you might say in a subdued tone—"Malpractices like these are committed elsewhere. It is even stated that you are not wholly free from them; but perhaps it is only the malevolent who say this of you. However, if you have really been guilty of them, I am sure you will abandon them in future. It is always a duty to prove that the malevolent are in the wrong." You may further add:—"I will do you this justice, that whenever I have given you any advice, I have always had the satisfaction of finding that some at least have profited by it."
It shows a want of charity as well as tact—and it is, moreover, deplorably vulgar—to address a congregation in such a style as the following:—"All my preaching, and all the trouble which I take in your behalf are in vain, for you are not a whit better. Faith is departing from France. … I must abandon you to your fate. No matter how I preach, none the more come to the sermons." … I say this mode of address is as vulgar and contemptible as it is derogatory to the minister of the Gospel. Saint John Chrysostom, as already remarked, did not talk in that style:—"If you reject my words," said he, "I shall not shake off the dust of my feet against you. Not that herein I would disobey the Saviour; but because the love which He has given me for you prevents my doing so." …
If sermons are not attended, whose fault is it? It is our duty to look into that question. At all events, if only a few come it is not certainly their fault, and therefore they should be spared all reproaches; otherwise some captious hearer—and such are to be met with everywhere—may slip into a corner of the pulpit, and say:—"Take care, Mr. Preacher; you are speaking ill of the absent, and you know better than I do that such a proceeding is improper." …
If your audience is scanty, I can quite fancy that you would like to comment upon it, and also to express a little annoyance at the fact; but you may do something better. Begin by congratulating those who are present, thank them heartily for coming to listen to you, and tell them afterward, in an affectionate manner, that it would be a praiseworthy act if they could induce one or two of their comrades to accompany them to the next meeting. Instead of uttering reproaches against the erring absentees, which your hearers might report to them, charge the latter to communicate words of kindness to them:—
"Tell those dear brethren who do not attend the lectures, that we bear them no ill-will; that we love all of them; that they too are our children; and that we never cease praying for them." Thereby all will be edified, and God will be less offended. …
Further, it is highly imprudent to say to one's audience:—"I have preached to you a long time, and yet you are still the same: I see no improvement in you. On the contrary, evil increases every year. I wash my hands of you; you will be lost: you will be damned." … Now, the people do not like to be damned, or to be discouraged. Besides, such a course is highly dangerous. … Might they not say:—"As it seems that we are damned already, let us at least enjoy life while it lasts." Moreover, may there not still be a portion for the pastor, even from among the erring flock?
A pastor once recapitulated in the pulpit the results of his ministrations in this language:—"My time is thrown away upon you, for you become more and more ungodly.