HEARING THE WORD.
An innkeeper addicted to intemperance, on hearing of the particularly pleasing mode of singing at a Church some miles distant, went to gratify his curiosity, but with a resolution not to hear a word of the sermon. Having with difficulty found admission into a narrow and open pew, as soon as the praise before sermon was sung, which he heard with great attention, he secured both his ears against the sermon with his forefingers. He had not been in this position many minutes before the prayer finished and the sermon commenced with an awful appeal to the consciences of the hearers, of the necessity of attending to the things which belonged to their everlasting peace, and the minister, addressing them solemnly said, “He that hath ears to hear, let him hear.” Just the moment before these words were pronounced a fly had fastened on the face of the innkeeper, and, stinging him sharply, he drew one of his fingers from his ears and struck off the painful visitant. At that very moment the words, “He that hath ears to hear, let him hear,” pronounced with great solemnity, entered the ear that was opened, as a clap of thunder. It struck him with irresistible force: he kept his hand from returning to his ear and, feeling an impression he had never known before, he presently withdrew the other finger, and hearkened with deep attention to the discourse which followed. A salutary change was produced on him. He abandoned his former wicked practices, became truly serious, and for many years went, during all weathers, six miles to the Church where he first received the knowledge of divine things. After about 18 years’ faithful and close walk with the Lord, he died rejoicing in the hope of that glory which he now enjoys.
MANTON’S PREACHING NOT UNDERSTOOD.
Dr. Harris relates that while Dr. Manton was minister at Covent Garden, London, he was called on to preach before the Lord Mayor, and the companies of the City, at St. Paul’s. He studied for the occasion an elaborate discourse, and was heard by the most intelligent part of his congregation with great admiration. But as he was returning home in the evening a poor man pulled the sleeve of his gown and asked if he was the gentleman who had preached before the Lord Mayor in the morning. On the doctor’s replying in the affirmative, the man added, “Sir, I came with the hope of getting some good for my soul, but I was greatly disappointed, for I could not understand a great deal of what you said; you were quite above me.” The doctor wept and replied, “Friend, if I did not give you a sermon, you have given me one; and, by the grace of God, I will never again play the fool in preaching before my Lord Mayor in such a manner.”
THE RAGGED BOY AND THE VICTORY.
A minister in the County of Tyrone, Ireland, had for some weeks observed a little ragged boy come every Sabbath to Church and place himself in the centre of the aisle, directly opposite the pulpit, where he seemed astonishingly attentive and eating, as it were, his words. He was desirous of knowing who the child was, but could obtain no information concerning him. At length the boy was missed from his usual place for several weeks. In a little time a man called on the minister, and told him that a boy, very ill, was desirous of seeing him, but added, “I am really ashamed to ask you to go so far, but it is a child of mine, and he refused to have anyone but you. He is altogether an extraordinary boy and talks a great deal about things that I do not understand.” The minister promised to go, and kept his promise. The rain poured down in torrents, and he had six miles of rugged mountain to pass. On arriving where he was directed, he saw a most wretched cabin indeed; and the man he had seen in the morning was waiting at the door. He was shown in, and found the inside of the hovel as miserable as the outside. In a corner on a little straw he beheld one whom he recognised as the little boy who had so regularly attended his Church. As he approached the wretched bed, the child raised himself up and, stretching forth his arms, said, “His right hand, and his holy arm, hath gotten Him the victory” (Ps. xlviii. 1), and shortly after expired.
WAITING THE LORD’S TIME.
WHEN the Rev. George Whitefield was in America, the Rev. W. Tennent paid him a visit as he was passing through New Jersey, and one day dined with him and other ministers at a gentleman’s house. After dinner Mr. Whitefield adverted to the difficulties attending the Gospel ministry; lamented that all their zeal availed but little; said that he was weary with the burden of the day; and declared the great consolation, that in a short time his work would be done when he should depart and be with Christ. He then appealed to the ministers if it was that which was their great comfort that they should soon go to rest. They generally assented, except Mr. Tennent, who sat next to Mr. Whitefield, in silence, and by his countenance discovered but little pleasure in the conversation. On which Mr. Whitefield, tapping him on the knee, said, “Well, brother Tennent, you are the oldest man among us: do you not rejoice to think that your time is so near at hand, you will be called home?” Mr. Tennent bluntly answered, “I have no wish about it.” Mr. Whitefield pressed him again. Mr. Tennent again and again answered, “No, sir, it is no pleasure to me at all; and if you know your duty, it would be none to you. I have nothing to do with death; my business is to live as long as I can, as well as I can, and to serve my Master as faithfully as I can, until He shall think proper to call me home.” Mr. Whitefield still urged for an explicit answer to his question, in case the time of death were left to his own choice. Mr. Tennent replied, “I have no choice about it; I am God’s servant and have engaged to do His business as long as He pleases to continue me therein. But now, brother, let me ask you a question. What do you think I should say if I were to send my man into the field to plough; and if at noon I should go to the field and find him lounging under a tree and complaining, ‘Master, the sun is very hot, and the ploughing hard. I am weary of the work you have appointed me and am overdone with the heat and burden of the day. Do, master, let me return home, and be discharged from this hard service.’ What should I say? Why, that he was a lazy fellow, and that it was his business to do the work that I had appointed him until I should think fit to call him home.”
THE GOOD PREACHER AND GOOD PREACHING.
By REV. JOHN LIVINGSTONE, of Kirk-O’-Shotts Fame.
“Earnest faith and prayer, a single aim at the glory of God, and the good of people, a sanctified heart and carriage, shall avail much for good and right preaching. There is sometimes somewhat in preaching that cannot be ascribed either to the matter or expression, and cannot be described; what it is or from whence it cometh; but with a sweet violence it pierceth into the heart and affections, and comes immediately from the Lord. But if there be any way to attain to any such thing, it is by a heavenly disposition of the speaker.”