PREACHING.
IF callings are to be estimated by the results they yield, then is preaching the first calling of earth. Of course, the reader does not understand me to speak of pecuniary results. Estimated by this standard, preaching is the last of callings. I speak of such results as are best for man, best in the highest sense of the word, best for time, best for eternity. Estimated by these results and preaching claims the palm; and by these results alone is preaching to be estimated. Now if such be the character of the calling, and that such is its character none who understands it will deny, then, all that pertains to it deserves to be done in the most perfect manner attainable. This proposition is self-evident. How, then, may the gospel be best preached? To the consideration of this question the present piece will be devoted.
It is Whately, I believe, who defines the best orator to be him who carries his point. If carrying the point always depended exclusively on the highest skill, and if the possession of this constituted the highest excellence, then the definition might be accepted as correct. But such is not the case. Now, certainly, he who possesses the highest skill in rhetoric, and who is most expert in the use of what he knows, is fairly entitled to be denominated the best orator, whether he carries his point or not. For, in the first place, he may be on the wrong side of the question, and may fail to carry his point from this circumstance. In the second, he may be on the right side of the question and may still fail to carry his point from ignorance or prejudice, or both, in his hearers. Yet I should still insist on his claim to be styled the best orator.
But be this as it may, can we denominate that preacher the best who carries his point? If so, then the preaching which he does would certainly be entitled to be called the best preaching. Are we prepared to accept this as the standard? Far from it, I think. With me that preaching is the best which, including the most truth and excluding the most error, results in making the most Christians. If this be not the best preaching then is my conception of the best erroneous. Few brethren, however, will dissent from my definition. Our previous question, then, a little modified, amounts to this: How shall we so preach as to include the most truth, exclude the most error, and make the most Christians? No graver question than this can fill the soul, or engage the thought of the preacher. If it cost him nights and days of anxiety and countless prayers—these are not too much.
Before proceeding to comment further on my definition of the best preaching, several preliminaries demand each a short notice.
First, as to the motives which should prompt men to preach. On this I hardly need make a remark. The reader anticipates me, and makes it unnecessary. Still, as this article is not for those who are already successful preachers, but for the inexperienced, and for such as may be thinking of adopting the calling for the future, a few suggestions can hardly be considered out of place. That the great, leading, guiding motive of the preacher should be the salvation of the lost, no one, perhaps, need to be told. By this Christ will be most honored; and whatever honors him most will in the end be best for us. But this motive will exclude several other possible, and in some cases even actual, motives.
It will wholly exclude the consideration of personal ease. Let no man who sets out to preach, as preaching deserves to be done, flatter himself with the delusion that he is about to enter on a career of ease. If this be his expectation in the outset, and if he follows his calling faithfully, it will not be long before disappointment will confront him in the form of a life-long reality. I will not say that preaching is the most arduous of all callings; but I will say that no calling should be more so than preaching. Yet it is much to be feared that many view it as little more than a pleasant pastime; and I am sorry to add, that the life of many a preacher would seem to justify the view. No indolent man can be a preacher; nor should such a man be countenanced in the calling even for a day. A man who is not intellectually and physically industrious should select some other vocation than preaching. At least let him never think of disgracing the work of Christ by attempting it. The numberless ways in which both mind and body are taxed, in the case of the faithful preacher, render it absolutely necessary that he shall be most laborious and industrious in his habits. Hence, unless a young man can obtain his consent to a life of unremitting toil, let him at once banish all thought of preaching from his mind. But of this subject more a little further on.
It will exclude the motive of mere worldly honor. I do not mean to say that a preacher should not wish to be honorable. This he should be, with no wish about it. What I mean is this: No man should undertake to preach even in part for the mere distinction which it gives him in the eye of the world. He who seeks worldly distinction will in the end prove a time-server, and in the hands of such the gospel is never safe. He will ultimately mould it to suit the carnal tastes of those to whom he ministers, and thereby weaken or wholly destroy its power. The vanity to become a popular public speaker, to sway great audiences at will, and to be puffed in newspaper paragraphs as the distinguished so and so, is a dangerous vanity, which preachers may well afford to decline. Study, deeply study, your heart, my dear young preaching brother, to see that no motive of this kind is actuating you to enter on the clean, delicate, and sacred calling of preaching. If any other than the one lofty motive already named control you, you may succeed in the estimation of men; but within, your conscience will never cease to upbraid you, while a life-long work will procure you not even one smile from heaven. I will not say that you should cultivate a feeling of positive indifference to the good opinion of mankind; but I do say that you should never use your vocation as a preacher to obtain it. Do your whole duty well, as to your Master alone. If the world applaud it is well; if the world scowl, be it so. That is a golden margin to a fleecy cloud, which will soon pass away; this is a speck on the sun’s bright face, eclipsed by his overpowering splendor.
As to the ability which a young preacher should presumptively possess, or with which he should set out, a few words may be in place. If the calling be the first in the world, we can not think it going too far to wish that it were sustained by the best talent with which the human family are blessed. Yet we know from experience that this will never be so, save in exceptional cases. Yet no young man should ever think of preaching, unless he is endowed with broad, fine sense, an active mind, and the power of concentrated, persistent thought. This much at least he should possess, as a basis on which to begin. Besides this, he should be eminently free from all eccentricities, crotchets, and other noticeable oddities. A man possessed of these is almost certain, at some time, to turn a knight of hobbies, and to do the cause more injury than he ever does it good. In other words, the young preacher should be possessed of a large share of that sterling stuff the world calls mother-wit, and withal should give proof of a naturally well-regulated brain. We never admired those curious, mental oscillations which cause a man to sparkle like a genius to-day, and show him a dunce to-morrow. We like the mind which exhibits solidity, uniformity, and trustworthiness. These traits will always command respect, and, where skillfully directed, will never fail to prove highly useful. Where a young man is pre-eminently endowed, he is too apt to trust exclusively to his parts, and to neglect the minute and constant study of the Scriptures, which uniformly results in his becoming simply a declaimer and in ceasing to be a preacher. This is an extreme never to be encouraged. There is yet another, still more to be deprecated. It is the vain stupidity which never aspires to any thing more than merely to be the wick which absorbs the oil and bears the flame supplied by another. When the former ends his career, Christians too often have reason to lament the demise of an apostate and a sot; when the latter dies the world is glad at the exit of a bore. The young preacher will do well to study to belong to neither of these extremes.
Respecting the education or mental training to be possessed by a young man before he enters on the task of preaching, I shall here say nothing. Elsewhere in the present number of the Quarterly will be found an article initiating the discussion of that important topic. To this article I shall for the present content myself to refer the reader, and pass on.
Neither do I mean to speak now of the moral or spiritual training a young man should have before engaging in this high calling. On this he will also find some valuable suggestions in the article just referred to, which I would commend to his thoughtful attention. I may be allowed, however, to add that no other qualification should be suffered to take the place of a deeply religious heart, and that none, not even the most brilliant, can compensate for the want of it. The preacher, if not above all men, still certainly the preacher should be a Christian from highest principle, and from an inextinguishable devotion to the truth. His piety should be deep, and his zeal burn with a never-abating force. These combined with commanding abilities to preach the gospel, in the same person, constitute earth’s noblest man.
But I now come to speak more particularly of preaching proper. This I shall distribute into topical preaching and contextual preaching. By the former I mean preaching on a particular topic or theme, as faith, with a view of exhausting it; by the latter, preaching on a particular section or chapter, with a view of presenting a connected exposition of it as a whole. Each of these divisions has its advantages. Topical preaching is, as a general rule, best for the world, contextual, best for the church. But neither before the world nor the church should either be used exclusively. No rule can be laid down as to when the one is preferable to the other. This must depend on the object the preacher has in view, and on the assumed or known necessities of his audience.
But by a young preacher contextual preaching is, with hardly an exception, to be preferred. In the first place, such preaching is almost wholly immethodical, all that is necessary being, to present a succinct, clear explanation of each word, clause, and sentence, as it occurs. This renders wholly unnecessary the oft-recurring firstly, secondly, thirdly, and so on, always tedious and frequently distasteful to audiences. The points to be presented being numerous, no single one need occupy much time. This to the beginner is very important. His stock of information is not expected to be large, and then his powers of elaboration are yet in their immaturity. It is hence dangerous for him to attempt long and difficult excursions. Far-reaching, consecutive trains of thought are for minds which have been long in training, and are thoroughly disciplined, and not for the inexperienced. Besides the beginner is sure to be less coherent than the practical speaker. This defect will remain wholly unnoticed in contextual preaching. He may feel it himself, and it is not desirable that he should not, but then it is best that himself alone should feel it, as otherwise embarrassment and a possible failure might be the result. Nothing so much confuses the beginner as to know that others see his confusion. This, then, he should constantly endeavor to keep out of sight. A young man who seems self-possessed and connected, if these spring not from vanity or self-conceit, will never fail to command respect; and even to command the respect of an audience is by him an end not to be despised.
In the second place, contextual preaching leads to contextual study of the Scriptures; and this, beyond question, is the best for the young preacher. He does not want to know the Bible as a mere book of topics or disconnected themes, but as a perfect whole, complete only in its entirety, in all its parts dependent, and never to be understood except when studied in its numerous and complex connections. Years should be devoted to its study in this way; and while studying it in this way, it is best to preach it in this way. When the Bible is somewhat understood as a whole, its individual parts are comparatively easy of comprehension. Then topical preaching may with propriety be engaged in. A man need then have no fear that any part of his speech will be contradictory of the Book; since the whole lies visibly before him as a guide. I would, then, for the reasons now assigned, especially commend to the beginner the subject of contextual preaching.
But let me now suppose it to be given out that a young brother is going to preach on the following Lord’s day; whether it be his first or his one hundred and first attempt is immaterial. Many preliminaries demand our notice. He has determined not to speak on some particular topic, but on a chapter or paragraph. What kind of one shall it be? No more important question than this can be asked. On the answer to it will almost certainly depend his success or his failure. By all means let him avoid an intricate passage or section, especially one that has been long in debate among learned men. Nothing looks worse in a young man, just setting out to preach, than to hear him delivering judgments and criticisms in cases where the great and learned of earth have paused and declined to risk even an opinion. All such passages should be studiously excluded from his early efforts. He will hence not select a section involving such questions as predestination, foreknowledge, will, regeneration, etc. All these he can safely, and will most creditably, leave to the discussion of the experienced preacher, whose talents, age, and high standing will justify him in undertaking their solution. As a general rule, the young preacher will find it best to select a paragraph abounding in incidents which afford scope for narration and description. These he will usually treat with greatest ease to himself, and pleasure to his audience. Young men are apt to be redundant in the use of words, especially in the use of adjectives and poetic epithets. These are-best suited to a narrative style. Besides, the power to set the numerous and marvelous incidents of the Bible before an audience in a witching and powerful light, is one of the most fascinating traits a man, whether young or old, can possibly possess. It never fails to be deeply engaging, and to cast the minds of hearers in the happiest conceivable frame for the reception of tough and offensive truths. It is a power for the mastery of which the young preacher can afford to spend much time and large labor. The dialectics of Christianity—its logic, its analysis, its exegesis—these are not usually the topics best adapted to the exuberant minds of young men. A florid sentence over the stiff inornate form of a syllogism is intolerable. It is hence better, as a general thing, for the beginner to confine his early labors to such themes as correspond with the vivacity, ease, and bounding life of his own young heart. As he solidifies and becomes more a thing of earth, he can venture on the harder and dryer subjects of the gospel.
But now let me suppose my young brother to have selected the paragraph or chapter on which his speech is to be made. I need not remind him how necessary it is that his comprehension of this should be complete, reaching even to the minutest circumstance. The topography of the place where the scene is laid should be perfectly familiar to him; so that it can be alluded to and spoken of with all the ease and readiness of a home spot. If important historic events stand connected with it, these should be known. But, above all, the sense of the passage, as an integral part of the sacred narrative or book, should be thoroughly understood. Its terms should all be studied, so that, if need be, they may be defined and their meaning illustrated with the utmost readiness and precision. No study will more become or more improve the young preacher than the close study of terms. All the light and all the obscurity in the Bible are contained in them. The ability to bring out that light, and to remove that obscurity should be an object of his life-long ambition. To the acquisition of it he is almost certain to devote too little attention, and very certain not to devote too much.
His paragraph being mastered as now indicated; the important question will present itself: Should he speak from notes? To this question we emphatically answer, No. The mind never works easily and naturally over notes. Its effort is too strictly an effort of memory. It is hence stiff, cold, and mechanical. Men that preach from notes seldom or never weep. There is no heart in note-preaching. A severe effort of memory is the sure suppression of the sympathies and kindlier feelings of the soul. If the mind now and then gleams forth in outbursts of grand thought, or the heart streams out in subtle, searching flows, it will be when both are in perfect ease, and wholly unconstricted by an effort to remember the stale words of a note. The subject to be spoken on should be so thoroughly understood, that not even the semblance of a note is needed to keep each minutest part in view. Then and then only can the mind work over it with the masterly ease necessary to success. Thought is then sportive and high; the soul is self-possessed, confident, and muscular; the feelings are free, liquid, and obedient—such must the preacher be who bears all down before him.
But when we insist that the young preacher shall not use notes, we by no means wish to be understood as teaching that he is not to be methodical and orderly. Very far from it. Order and method are accomplishments in which he should strive to become adept. But, then, order and method neither depend on note-taking nor on note using. In many instances they depend on the original constitution of the mind; but, as a general rule, not less on training. The order and method which result from severe, constant mental discipline, are the only order and method the preacher need ever aim at, but these he should constantly aim at. His mind should be taught to work orderly as a matter of habit. Then his preaching will be even to himself a delightful exercise. Years of unremitting attention may be necessary to attain the end; but he should never unbend his purpose till it is attained. He should so regulate his mental habits, as not to be nonplused even by the most unexpected emergency. If suddenly called upon to speak on a subject not wholly familiar to him, the training of his mind should be such as to suggest to him at once, and as if by intuition, the true starting point. This found, he should then be enabled to call up each consecutive step as though it occurred to him naturally and without effort on his
part. But this the young preacher must not expect to be able to do at first. Only after long years of sedulous attention to his intellectual training can he expect to be competent to the task.
But before the young preacher begins his speech a few collateral items will demand his attention; and although they belong not strictly to preaching, yet they belong to preachers, and hence should not be overlooked.
First, his personal appearance. I lay it down as a rule in dress that the young preacher should be faultlessly neat and faultlessly plain. A slovenly, ungainly appearance in the pulpit is insufferable. It is indicative of coarseness of nature, and of an inexcusable disregard for the good taste and refined sense of his audience. It should hence be studiously avoided. I do not mean to say that his dress should be fine. Not at all. It may be, where his circumstances will allow of nothing better, of the most ordinary material; and no truly cultivated Christian man or woman will ever esteem him the less on that account. But, then, the most common fabric can be neatly cut and neatly made, can be kept clean, and worn becomingly on the person. This is all I mean. Especially should the young preacher avoid all odd cuts and odd colors in his dress. Any thing of the kind is sure to provoke the criticism of the public, and to mortify the feelings of the very brethren whose good opinion he should most value. His hair should be kept of the proper length, and show that while it is not an object of special care, it is not in the least neglected. Where a young preacher’s hair is, on the one hand, long, bushy, and undressed, it is too apt to arouse suspicions in the minds of the polite to which they are extremely reluctant to give expression; and where it is, on the other, long, sleek, dangling, and curly, it may lead to the conjecture that the sacred calling of preaching is to be made subservient to the interests of reduplication, in other words, getting a wife. These are both unpromising extremes in young preachers.
The same degree of propriety should be observed in regard to the beard. It should not be cut in eccentric forms, or worn after the rakish fashion of rowdies. A young preacher with face all shaved except a ring half an inch broad around the mouth, the hair of which he is continually fingering, twisting, and stroking, presents an appearance excessively repulsive and vulgar. But a simple hint here is deemed enough.
The young preacher, whose circumstances will permit him to dress finely, should yet be in dress a model of simplicity and purity. He should scrupulously refrain from every thing gaudy and showy. Let his necktie be of modest black, his other clothes of grave allowable color, and perfectly plain; let all gold chains, gold seals, and costly pins be kept completely out of sight; nor even so much as the plainest ring be seen on his hand. Sectarian preachers can afford to sport these trinkets. For the most part they are propagandists of the heresies of the great Mother of harlots; and there is perfect consistency between such gewgaws and their calling. But on the person of the conscientious and humble preacher of the primitive gospel they are strikingly out of place. It will be well, too, even for the young preacher who can afford something costlier, to provide himself with a plain silver watch. The silver is just as enduring as the gold, is unostentatious, and comports better than a more glittering thing with the deeply serious work in which he is engaged. Especially must I guard my young preaching brother against imitating the studied carelessness and slipthrift manner of a certain type of dandies. The wristband is worn unfastened and allowed to dangle about the hand; the vest is left unbuttoned; the hat is slouched and sits jauntily on the head; the shoe is untied; or the watch-key depends from a tow string. All this is not only in bad taste, but indicates a worldly state of mind wholly at variance with the purity and spirituality of Christianity, and hence with the sacred calling of the preacher. To play the dandy even by accident is utterly unallowable in him who serves in the things of the Spirit. He must scrupulously guard against gliding into such unpreacherly ways.
Next, his conduct in the pulpit. Much will depend on the appearance and manners of a young preacher in the pulpit. Of course, I do not refer to these as determining the excellence of his discourse, but the impression he may make on his audience, which, in an indirect way, may seriously affect the result of his efforts. Few people hear any thing amiss in a man toward whom they are affected with a high personal regard and polite pleasurable feelings. Hence the young preacher should, as far as a pleasing manner can accomplish the end, endeavor to enlist in his behalf the most cordial and agreeable emotions his audience is capable of. An inferior speech addressed to laughing eyes, or delivered into warm well-wishing bosoms, is immeasurably more effective than the most compact and powerful argument delivered to sour, repelling hearers. A manner at once dignified, easy, graceful, and perfectly natural, will of itself usually insure attention and respect; and if a young man can begin his speech with these he should feel satisfied.
On rising to go into the pulpit the young preacher’s walk should be neither too rapid nor too slow. The former looks excited, and indicates defective breeding; the latter seems artificial and affected. On entering the pulpit, he will neither sit down stiffly nor drop down heavily. All his movements should point to a mind, not indifferent, but in perfect repose, and a manner supple and unstudied. His eyes should not be constantly downcast to the pulpit floor, nor wander impertinently and blankly over the house. His look should appear confident, subdued, and modest. In the pulpit he should never loll, lie down, nor assume any other lazy or unseemly attitude. Such exhibitions are utterly unallowable in a young man.
When he arises to pray, he should stand perfectly erect, and not commence till the audience have all risen and become still. Then he should begin, but not in a loud, boisterous, and rattling tone. Nothing is more offensive in prayer than bluster. To the truly refined and spiritual minded, few things are more painful than to hear God addressed in a loud, hollow, cracking tone of voice. Equally objectionable is a voice quaint, familiar, and irreverent. Neither should the voice be so low as to render the words inaudible; nor yet should it be sepulchral and ventral. In prayer, the voice should be full and soft, and every word be distinctly heard. The tone should be solemn and profoundly respectful.
Let me, in the height of earnestness, warn my young preaching brother against all attempts to make fine prayers. Such vain exhibitions are shocking beyond measure. In praying, his words should all be most dignified, but the simpler the better. His sentences should not be too long; neither should they be involved and intricate. As a general rule they should be short, inartificial, and faultlessly chaste and pure. All attempts to be eloquent in prayer, to be sentimental, dramatic, or in any other way affected, are deeply blameworthy and to be scrupulously avoided. When you hear people commenting on a prayer, and saying of it: Was it not fine, was it not grand, was it not eloquent! with no fear of missing the mark you may reply of him who made it, verily, he has his reward. Especially let the young preacher avoid making long prayers. No matter how excellent such may be, they are generally felt to be a bore. It may be laid down as indisputable that there is not one prayer in a hundred which could not be improved by being shortened. Moreover, a prayer should never be delivered in a rapid impetuous manner. Its delivery should be measured, earnest, and sufficiently animated to impart to it vitality and make it penetrating, but nothing more. Comprehension, simplicity, earnestness, and brevity may be safely set down as the true characteristics of a good prayer. On these, therefore, the young preacher will bestow his constant thought.
When about to commence his discourse, several items will demand his attention. He will be especially careful not to intend, and hence not set out to make a great speech. Should he purpose any thing of the kind, he may count with infallible certainty on a failure. Hence, let him not bestow one thought on the nature of the effort he is about to make. Let that be left to be determined wholly by the activity, fertility, precision, and glow with which his mind may work. He should, as already said, know his subject well. Then he should begin to speak in the most simple, unstudied, and natural way. It will be easy then to rise. As his mind quickens and warms, and his emotions begin to play, his altitude will gradually and, if he is careful, gracefully increase up to the desired height. One constant aim of the young preacher should be to sustain himself well throughout his effort. This he can never do if he commences in a pompous grandiloquent style. Better far that his commencement should be confused, bungling, and excessively commonplace. Below this he can not fall; above it he is almost sure to rise. But especially let him avoid a magnificent beginning. Nothing is more fatal to his success. He will hence have no preformed, eloquent sentences with which to greet his audience on rising. At first the ear of his hearers is cold and dull; he will do well to remember this, and touch that organ accordingly. As his own mind becomes more fervid, expansive, and opulent in thought, that ear will become more appreciative and voracious, and will receive, in kindlier mood, both his enlarged conceptions and his richer style. The speech and the hearing will thus improve together—a circumstance always essential to success in any high degree. We would hence suggest to the young preacher, as aforesaid, that he should first thoroughly master his subject, and then in all the stages of his speech trust to the moment and the circumstances to supply him both with manner and words.
No more important item is likely to engage the attention of the young preacher than the tone of voice in which he opens. On it will most certainly depend, however he may think to the contrary, the effectiveness of his effort and the pleasure with which it will be listened to. Not more important is the key-note in a tune, than is the keynote of a sermon. If the pitch of a tune is wrong, no matter how accomplished the musician who executes the piece, the performance must prove a failure; and so, with the pitch of a speech. Further: if a preacher sets out on the wrong key, his whole discourse will be affected and marred by the circumstance. He is sure never to get right during that speech. It is difficult to indicate intelligibly and with exactitude the precise tone of voice in which a discourse should be commenced. Perhaps no more correct and specific direction can be given than to say that the tone or pitch should be simply that in which we would commence a rather loud unexcited conversation. On this key the sound of the voice is natural, and the voice itself perfectly manageable; and to keep the voice natural and manageable are the points of chief importance in a public speech. When it is too high it becomes monotonous; and nothing is more disagreeable than a high, strained, horizontal tone running
throughout a discourse. If in all other respects the discourse is good, this tone of itself will spoil it. Neither should the voice be too low; since here again it is certain to become monotonous; and what is worse than all, to have a dull, lifeless ring which would render ineffectual the best of speeches. If a young preacher sets out on a natural key, both these extremes will be avoided; and besides whatever of native musicalness his voice may possess will be preserved. He will then speak with ease to himself, and this will impart a sense of ease to his hearers. And an object never to be lost sight of by him is to keep his audience constantly in an easy, pleasant mood. If a speaker’s voice is strained and painfully out of key, his hearers will sympathize with him to a degree utterly destructive of their pleasure, and which nothing can relieve but the end of the discourse, which end they are sure to pray for with unwonted fervor. The trait to be most desired by the speaker in his voice is range, that is, the ability to rise or fall at will. If he lacks this, or sets out on a key which forfeits it, no other trait will compensate for it; he must never lose sight of it. Further: the sharpest points in a speech, its finest strokes and deepest touches, will usually depend on emphasis. This can never be employed except when the voice is under the most perfect control of the speaker; and this it never is except when on a perfectly natural key. But when thus under his control, even the most subtle emotion of the soul or attenuated feeling of the heart can be darted through an audience with perfect ease. And on these finer and more delicate characteristics of a speech, more than on its gross matter of thought and logic, will depend the admiration and deep pleasure with which it is received. Nor does it matter on what key the young preacher sets out, he must be careful to avoid a stiff, rigid tone. His voice should always appear and actually be voluble, flexible, and liquid. Nor should it ever have a hollow, barking ring; but always seem somewhat hushed, as if freighted down with thought. Besides, if possible, he should endeavor to infuse into it a soft, coaxing intonation, and to avoid the opposite grating, repelling one. I feel satisfied that if one-fifth of the time which is usually spent on indicting notes and otherwise pre-arranging and cogitating speeches were spent on the voice, that three out of every four speeches we hear would seem one-half the better by the circumstance. Let me impress its importance on the mind of the young preacher.
But other important pulpit items still demand our attention. While delivering his speech, the young preacher should neither stand perfectly still nor be constantly in motion. As a general rule, too much action is worse than not enough. The best of speeches when over acted loses much. Still, it is best to keep some part of the body in pretty constant motion; only should the young preacher be very careful that the motion is natural, easy, and graceful. Especially should he refrain from all violent gestures. Throwing the arms wildly about, pounding the pulpit with the clenched fist, stamping the foot violently on the floor—all these are in very bad taste, and indicate a rude, unmanageable nature in the speaker, but poorly under the restraints of education. Again: elevating the voice to a scream, and then suddenly depressing it to a whisper, rolling up the eyes, and other theatrical practices assumed for the sake of imparting to the discourse a sort of dramatic effect, are exceedingly reprehensible, and to be scrupulously eschewed by the young preacher. Above all let him refrain from spitting on the pulpit floor and rubbing it up with his foot, spitting in his handkerchief, etc. Such filthy practices are positively sickening. This remark, however, is not intended to apply to old speakers whose habits, it may be, were formed before they ever entered a pulpit. No criticism of them or their manners either in or out of the pulpit is herein meant. I am speaking to and of those only who are just entering, or have just entered, on the calling in hand.
The young preacher must carefully guard against both too slow and too rapid a manner of delivery. His speech should be measured, but not lifeless; animated, but not impetuous. He must preserve that mean which leaves him master of inflection and emphasis. His articulation should be distinct, his pronunciation full, his manner fluent and varied. Especially should he guard against seeming to talk at random, or seeming to talk merely for the sake of talking. Every thing he says should appear to be studied, intended, and consecutive. A shower of hollow words is one of the sorest inflictions to which a congregation can be subjected. Nor is a boisterous and rapid manner ever attended with deep impressions. If you wish to touch an audience to the quick, let your thoughts flow out in words well-spaced as the printers say, and in a voice full, melting, and completely under your command. Give the soul time to fill every word and even every space with its mystic magnetic force, if you wish to reach feeling’s deepest seat. But to attain this requires years of thoughtful practice. The young preacher should constantly aim at it, but he must not feel discouraged if he is not at the very first successful.
A stammering, hesitating manner in a young man is to be carefully avoided. It keeps his audience constantly uneasy lest he should trip and let down. A style which is smooth and flowing begets confidence in the speaker and pleasure in the hearer. Still more should the beginner be on his guard against a very common and a very reprehensible fault in speakers—the fault of repeating his words and sentences. If a word has been distinctly uttered, and a sentence is clear, no sort of necessity exists for repeating them. Sometimes, I grant, it may be done for the sake of emphasis; but it is an emphasis which should not often recur in the same speech.
But once more, in regard to the management of the voice. Some preachers fall into a sing-song manner in preaching, which the beginner should carefully guard against. It consists in the rising and falling of the voice at regular intervals, accompanied by a peculiar cant. Few things are more unpleasant to a truly cultivated audience. On very rude, untutored feelings it sometimes has an effect; but the aversion it causes in other quarters demands its complete disuse. We know some excellent preachers who effectually spoil their exhortations by it. In venerable old men, whose habits were long since formed, it is needless to criticize it; but in the young it should be utterly discountenanced. A word on it, however, is deemed enough.
Lard’s Quarterly, April 1865, #3 page 250