We have no intention of sketching the life and great achievements of Wesley, but will only consider a few events that bear on his character as a preacher. Before he found peace in believing, which he did not until he had preached for years, his sermons were not characterized by any extraordinary power. They were strong, clear, fluent, and no more. But after his return from his final voyage to America, there was a great change. The external characteristics remained nearly the same, but the fervor and power of the spirit that breathed through his mildest words, soon produced the opposite effects of exciting bitter enmity and of drawing the hearts of the people toward him. It mattered not what the nature of his congregations might be, there was something in his manner and words adapted to all. He began field preaching about the same time that Whitefield did, and sometimes gathered as many as twenty thousand into one congregation. While he spoke the whole assembly was often bathed in tears, and frequently many fell down as dead. He gathered those who were convinced by his preaching into societies, and these soon spread over the whole country. He was thus required to exercise more authority in caring for them than any bishop of the Established Church. For upwards of fifty years he averaged fifteen sermons a week.
Although Wesley was the founder of Methodism, yet he differed widely from the typical Methodist preachers. He dressed neatly, was most courteous and polished in manners, graceful in the pulpit, and considered violent exertions of the voice or furious gesticulation to be little less than sin. His published sermons are models of thoughtful analysis, close reasoning, and orderly arrangement. Yet he always spoke without manuscript and without memorizing.
Wesley would certainly have been justified, if any person ever was, in reading his discourses. For he was surrounded by those who had been led into the way of life by him, and who treasured up every word that fell from his lips, while on the other hand, unscrupulous enemies misrepresented him continually, and sought for occasion to accuse him of teaching pernicious doctrine. Yet amid such ceaseless preaching, he was always able to command the very words to express his ideas, and was never compelled to retract an unguarded sentence. The volumes of sermons which he published are to be regarded as mere abstracts of his teaching, recorded for the benefit of his societies, and not as the very words he used upon particular occasions. In his later years he came before the people, as a father instructing his children, and imparted to them the weighty truths he thought they ought to know, in all simplicity, and without the slightest care for outward ornament or word-nicety.
SIDNEY SMITH.
This eccentric, whole-souled, humorous, and eloquent clergyman was born in 1771, and died in 1835. He graduated at Oxford, received a fellowship, worth five hundred dollars a year, and thought to study law, but at the instance of his father, changed his mind and entered the Church. In connection with three others he started the Edinburgh Review, and for years contributed sparkling articles that did much to establish its reputation and popularity. He also became known to a wide circle for his brilliant conversational powers, and, like so many extempore speakers, took great delight in this most pleasant means of improvement.
At first his preferment in the Church was slow, but his favor with the people was undoubtful. While he preached in London large and fashionable audiences were drawn wherever he officiated.
Finally he was presented with an obscure country living, and after some delay went to it. It was a desolate place, far away from all the centers of intellectual life, and previous incumbents had resided away from it for more than a century. He says, “When I began to thump the cushion of my pulpit, on first coming to Foston, as is my wont when I preach, the accumulated dust of one hundred and fifty years, made such a cloud that for some minutes I lost sight of my congregation.”
He soon made a change for the better in all the affairs of the parish; built an ugly but comfortable parsonage, and won the devoted affection of his people. He passed much of his time in literary avocations, and after fourteen years, received preferment to more desirable churches. During the remainder of his life he used his pen so as to greatly increase his already wide reputation, and became still more noted as a preacher. He was very witty, and cared little for the common rules of sermonizing, but had a power and earnestness that compensated for every defect. The following extract will indicate his method of preparation:
“Pulpit discourses have insensibly dwindled from speaking to reading; a practice which of itself is sufficient to stifle every germ of eloquence. It is only by the fresh feelings of the heart that mankind can be very powerfully affected. What can be more ludicrous than an orator delivering stale indignation and fervor a week old; turning over whole pages of violent passions, written out in goodly text; reading the tropes and apostrophes into which he is hurried by the ardor of his mind; and so affected at a preconcerted line and page that he is unable to proceed any further!”