Again, the priest on the foreign mission will never face a congregation that is not sprinkled with Protestants or unbelievers.  Should he not then consider the feelings of his own people who are humiliated or filled with honest pride by the manner in which their pastor acquits himself in the eyes of strangers?  Waiving then all supernatural motives, should not every priest have sufficient manly pride, self-respect and sensibility for the honour of his exalted office to lift himself and his work above the sneer of the most censorious, and challenge the respect, if not the admiration, of every listener?

The preparation should begin not on the day the sacred oils are poured on the young priest’s hands, but on the day he enters college.  His eyes should be kept fixed on the goal before him.  “I am to be a preacher, and every obstacle that stands on my path must go down, and every advantage that goes to make a great orator, at all costs, I must make my own.”  This ambition should be nourished till it consumes him, till it becomes “his waking thought, his midnight dream.”  His reading, recitation and debates should be studied under the light of this lodestar of his destiny:  at first shining afar off, but swiftly nearing as each vacation ends.

[Side note:  Objectors answered I.]

Those who champion the method of extemporary preaching lay great stress on two points. (I) The extemporary preacher has a natural warmth and earnestness of conviction that goes straight to the heart. (2) These, they maintain, can never accompany the prepared discourse.  Let us examine these two statements.  It is true that when men speak under the influence of strong emotions, passion may, in a large measure, compensate for accurate expression and sequence of thought, especially with a rude or half educated audience.  In proof of this, Peter the Hermit and Mahomet are striking examples.  We are dealing, however, not with extraordinary but the ordinary demands on a priest’s powers, and it would be poor wisdom to stake all his success on the chance moods of his temperament.  To-day the tempest may rock his soul and his words bear the breath of flame; but, by next Sunday, the spirit has passed, his passions are ice chill; he is confronted with the duty of preaching, and on what support shall he now lean?  We must also remember that with increasing education the popular mind is becoming more analytic, and congregations less willing to accept emotions, no matter how sincere, as a substitute for reason.

The second statement—­that the written sermon cannot be vitalized with fervour—­seems childish in face of the fact that even actors, speaking the thoughts of men dead three hundred years, move people to tears or cause their blood to blaze.  The great pulpit orators, to whom allusion has already been made, preached carefully written sermons, yet over ten thousand hearts they poured lava tides that swept every prejudice in their fiery breaths.