THE SKETOHER.

Otago Witness, Issue 2009, 25 August 1892, Page 39

THE SKETOHER.

NOTED PREACHERS AND THEIR SERMONS. The Archbishop of Oanteibury, the Bishop of London, Dean Bradley, and Archdeacon Farrar may be mentioned as instances of clergymen who prefer to rely upon fully transcribed manuscripts rather than trust to their unaided memories, although in each case as platform speakers these reverend gentlemen command ready eloquence. Examples of the opposite method of preaching sermons— ie., when notes are liberally or otherwise used — are numerous. Cardinal Manning jotted down his heads, sub-heads, and line of treatment in regard to each, upon a long but narrow sheet of paper, and it was astonishing into what a small space, in microscopic writing, he could crowd the substance of an address of perhaps one hour's duration. Mr Spurgeon, too, burdened himself with few notes, but no one can have closely followed his preaching without having been quite certain that he must. have spent an enormous amount of time in the work of preparation, to tbe extent even of learning by heart, not by rote — for there is a distinction and a real difference — the most striking passages, whilst it is also quite clear that the order and selection of anecdotes were not left to the inspiration of the moment, but had been carefully predetermined. This " skeleton" system is one which is popular with the Baptists who have been trained at the Pastora' College and with men who are sufficiently at ease and are possessed of a full enough vocabulary to venture upon " filling up" and expanding in the pulpit. To do this effectively requires a great deal of self-control and experience, for the danger of becoming diffuse and " longwinded" is an evil which besets every class of public speaker when he gives rein to his tongue. A safer plan, which is, however, not often adopted, is to learn the whole of the sermon word for word, and then recite it with appropriate gesture to the audience. This method, as a rule, entails the necessity of putting the discourse into writing in the first instance, but some men of retentive memories having once or twice written out the matter are at no loss to repeat it without the book when the time comes. Robert Hall, the English Nonconformist, one of the greatest preachers of his time, pursued a still bitter, because more conscientious, method. He was a great invalid, and confined for a great part of his time to the sofa. There he acquired the habit of mental composition, and having an excellent memory, his most celebrated sermons, built up in this way, thought over, and digested, were delivered, first to the congregation, without note or manuscript, and then repeated to a shorthand writer for publication. Politicians have from time to time possessed the same power of reproducing unwritten but word-perfect speeches, and on one occasion Mr Gladstone said he envied them that talent.

Canon Knox-Little preaches extemporaneously. There have been men who have chosen their texts at random in the pulpit and talked straight away. A Methodist minister in Somerset once realised the danger of trusting too implicitly to this power, for unexpectedly having to face a large and strange audience, he broke down, and in his confusion cried, in an agitated voice, " Ladies and gentlemen, I be all in a puzzlement 1 "

Of all tbe millions of sermons annually composed a very small proportion get into piint and are permanently preserved. Sermons by old divines in volumes are common enough in libraries and on old bookstalls, and many of their ideas are incorporated into the preachings of the modern school. In later times Canon Liddon published his discourses from his manuscripts. Mr Spurgeon's addresses were reproduced from shorthand notes, revised by himself ; and Dr Parker's wife for many years took down her husband's sermons for thepurposes of publication. Mr Spurgeon spoke at the rate of 150 words per minute, which is much slower than some barristers talk, and probably 50 to 70 words a minute less than a read sermon would average. Archdeacon Farrar, whose turgid and, to a reporter, embarrassing richness of style is distressing, has printed his later sermons from his manuscripts because he was dissatisfied with the accuracy of the shorthand notes. A year or two ago the Bishop of Peterborough complained of the reporter having put " bad English and worse theology " into his mouth, with the resulb that he had to answer letters from "perplexed and occasionally angry correspondents." He resented repoiting as " literary assassination." Whether Dean yaughan, of the Temple Church, has the same views is not ceitaic, but he has more than once declined to allow his sermorjs, or extracts of them, to appear in the daily prees. Morloy JPunshon on one occasion was asked by a reporter for the loan of bi3 manuscript, and his reply was ; "lam sorry I oannot oblige you. It is of a oertain value to me. Once a reporter borrowed a sermon of me, promising to return it-, but he never did so. It was lost, and sinoe then I have resolved never to lend one again." H e preferred to put up with inaccuracies in' reports from shorthand notes. ' ■ A very different course wag not a loDg while since taken in a Lancashire town. A

clergyman actually summoned before the magistrates a reporter for taking shorthand notes in his church in such a manner as to disturb the congregation, but the summons was withdrawn on the undertaking that the offender would henceforward " take a back seat." Some preachers — the late Dr Binney was one sueh — are extremely sensitive; and dread the sight of a flying pencil tearing madly over the quickly-turned pages of a notebook, which is soon filled from end to end with circles, dots, and dashes. It was necessary to take a report of one of Dr Binney's sermons, and the shorthand writer had the happy thought of throwing his overcoat over the back of the pew in front, so that it quite hid his notebook from the view of tbe preacher, and as he was careful not to stoop Dr Binney never suspected that his words were being closely followed by the stenographer. An expert writer, indeed, will make verj little stir with his work, and no ono will be disturbed by him, unless it be a fidgety old lady of the stamp described by the late the Hon. lon Keith-Fal-coner, an enthusiast id matters of shorthand, who said that the dame fat question was very angry with him, when a boy practising reporting, for "drawing pictures during the sermon," and she had a great mind to btop him.

A curious experience fell to the lot of the writer at Birmingham when the telephone was first " laid on " to one of the churches, and the subscribers were permitted to hear the sermon without attending the service. The printed notes of the address, which were taken with one hand whilst the receiver was held to the left ear with the disengaged hand, are preserved as a memento of the first sermon which was reported for publication through the medium of the telephone.

But whether sermons are perpetuated in this way or that, it is certain that most of them are preached more than once, not necessarily by the same man. A clergyman once assisted a brother curate who was away from home, and he delivered a sermon from an author whose discourses had often been heard in that church. One of the congregation, after the service, accosted tbe stranger-clergyman, and said, in the Somerset dialect, "La, Bir, I ha* gotten thik sarmon by heart." *• Have you ? " said the detected but unabashed preacher; "it's more than I have."

CHINESE CHARACTERISTICS.

It seems to make no particular difference to a Chinese how long he remains in one position.

He will write all day, like an automaton,

If he is a handicraftsman, he will stand in one place from dewy morn till dusky eve, working away at his weaving, his gold-beat-ing, or whatever it may be, and do- it every day, without any variation in the monotony, and apparently no special consciousness that there is any monotony to be varied.

In the same way Chinese school children are subjected to an amount of confinement, unrelieved by any recesses or change of work, which would soon drive Western pupils to the verge of insanity.

The very infants in arms, instead of squirming and wriggling as our children begin to do as Boon as they are born, lie as impassive as so many mud gods. And at a more advanced age, when Western children would vie with the monkey in its wildest antic?, Chinese children will often stand, sit, or squat in the same posture for a great length of time.

In the item of sleep the Chinese establishes the same differences between himself and the Occidental as in the directions already specified. Generally speaking, he is able to sleep anywhere. None of the trifling disturbances which diive us to despair annoy him. With a brick for a pillow, he can lie down on his bed of stalks, or mud bricks or rattan, and sleep the sleep of the just, with no reference to the rest of creation. He does not want his room darkened, nor does he require others to be . still. The " infant crying in the night " may continue to cry for all he cares, for it does not disturb him. In some regions the entire population seem to fall asleep, as by common instinct (like that of the hibernating bear), during the first two hours of summer afternoons, and they do this with regularity, no matter where they may be. At two hours after noon the universe at such seasons is as still as at two hours after midnight. In the case of most working people at lea3t, and also in that of many others, position in sleep is of no sort of consequence. It would be easy to raise in China an army of a million men— nay, 10 millions— tested by Competitive examination, as to their capacity to go to sleep across three wheelbarrows, with head downwards, lite a spider, their mouths wide open and a fly inside 1 The same freedom from the tyranny of nerves is exhibited in the Chinese endurance of physical pain. Those who have any acquaintance with the operations in hospitals in China know how common, or rather how almost universal, it is for the patients to bear without flinching a degree of pain from which the stoutest of us would shrink in terror. — A R. Smith. THE FIRE KING. " There are five or six of us in the profession at the present time," said a fire-eater in reply to the writer's queries, "and our methods are much the 6ame. In fact, we learn from each other — the young from the old — and no one thinks of tryiDg a change. Why should he if the old game.' pays and is known to be safe 7, " When performing I wear a kind of scale armour oostume, brown tights, and black enamel jackboots. The armour flashes in the light, and so does tbe royal crown I wear, for lam called the Fire King. I have also a long ringlet wig, and bracelets on my arms, and if all this don't fetch the crowd, I'm a Dutchman. " On parade (that is when I am standing outside a penny show to entice people in) I generally eat the lighted link, tbe ordinary one you get at oilshops. No, there's no trick in it ; only confidence. It won'c burn the inside of the mouth, but if the pitch falls on the face and hands it burns badly. You must hold your breath as you put the flame in your mouth, and it goes out instantly j any ember we quench with saliva.

" Each bit of link we take in the month we etow away on one side of the cheek, like a monkey pouching nuts. When I have eaten enough, I extinguish the link by putting the whole burning end in my mouth. It goes out at once, but you must be careful or it will make your moustache frizzle, and mind that the pitch does not touch the lips, or it burns badly. " I swallow my bits of link ; some spit them out on the sly. The taste is roughish, but they are said to be wholesome. I chew them as I leave the parade, or while I am getting the next trick ready. It's nothing when you're accustomed to it. " The fireball exploding in the mouth is my next trick. It is a much harder trick than the last. I begin by eating tow, not lighted, as you see performers do who are going to draw out long coloured ribbons from between their teeth.

" Amongst this tow I slip in a lighted fuse attached to the fireball and wrapped up in tow. As the fuse burns, I blow out with my breath and tbat sends out smoke and flame, until the fireball bursts.

" It is a hard trick, all according to how it bursts. If near the teeth and outwardly, it is all right, but if on the side, ib burns the inside of the mouth. The tow protests the mouth a bit. I also make the smoke and sparks come down my nose in this trick.

"I do the next trick with brimstone. I take a plate of lighted sulphur, and after inhaling the fumes, lift it on a fork and swallow is. This trick isn't all beer and skittles, lam tell you. When put in the mouth it sticks like sealirig wax and has a nasty sour taste, enough to make one feel sick at first, but we soon get used to it. A good supper or breakfast makes you all right for next day. " Yes, sometimes I perform in the streets when out of a job, but it is only poor biz. We are often 'moved on,' and people run away forgetting to leave you a copper after yo\i have done. I sometimes can pick up a shilling or two in a public house parlour when they let me perform, but some landlords don't like it, and won't allow me unless they see their customers bent on having it. This is my best public house trick : I put a piece of diy tow on a plate, and dusting it from a pepper box containing ground resin and sulphar mixed, I set it alight and then eat it with a fork. This we call the 'light supper trick.' It is like swallowing soup scalding hot. " Yes, sir, it is a hard way of getting a living, but, as they say, eels get used to skinning. Then it brings us our bread and butter, and we must not quarrel with that."