[Footnote:  Life of Chalmers, vol. i. pp. 462, 3, and 467, 8.  It should be mentioned that Chahners, notwithstanding this tremendous vehemence, always read his sermons.]

There is indeed in the Scotch Church a considerable class of most respectable preachers who read their sermons, and who, both for matter and manner, might be transplanted without remark into the pulpit of any cathedral in England.  There is a school, also, of high standing and no small popularity, whose manner and style are calm and beautiful; but who, through deficiency of that vehemence which is at such a premium in Scotland at present, will never draw crowds such as hang upon the lips of more excited orators.  Foremost among such stands Mr. Robertson, minister of Strathmartin, in Forfarshire.  Dr. McCulloch, of Greenock, and Dr. Veitch, of St. Cuthbert’s, Edinburgh, are among the best specimens of the class.  But that preaching which interests, leads onward, and instructs, has few admirers compared with that which thrills, overwhelms, and sweeps away.  And from the impression made on individuals so competent to judge as those already mentioned, it would certainly seem that, whether suited to the dignity of the pulpit or not, the deepest oratorical effect is made by the latter, even on cultivated minds.  Some of the most popular preachers in England have formed themselves on the Scotch model.  Melvill and M’Neile are examples:  so, in a different walk, is Ryle, so well known by his tracts.  We believe that Melvill in his early days delivered his sermons from memory, and of late years only has taken to reading, to the considerable diminution of the effect he produces.  We may here remark, that in some country districts the prejudice of the people against clergymen reading their sermons is excessive.  It is indeed to be admitted that it is a more natural thing that a speaker should look at the audience he is addressing, and appear to speak from the feeling of the moment, than that he should read to them what he has to say; but it is hard to impose upon a parish minister, burdened with pastoral duty, the irksome school-boy task of committing to memory a long sermon, and perhaps two, every week.  The system of reading is spreading rapidly in the Scotch Church, and seems likely in a few years to become all but universal.  Caird reads his sermons closely on ordinary Sundays, but delivers entirely from memory in preaching on any particular occasion.

It may easily be imagined that when every one of fourteen or fifteen hundred preachers understands on entering the church that his manner must be animated if he looks for preferment, very many will have a very bad manner.  It is wonderful, indeed, when we look to the average run of respectable Scotch preachers, to find how many take kindly to the emotional style.  Often, of course, such a style is thoroughly contrary to the man’s idiosyncracy.  Still, he must seem warm and animated; and the consequence is frequently