l hour. Hugh
Bourne, it is well known, gave himself to this kind of preaching to a
degree which has made his name the more to be remembered on its
account. His language was literal indeed! To our mind, at the moment
of writing, returns something of the emotion with which in the days of
boyhood we listened to a sermon on "The Pale Horse and his Rider" from
a local preacher not long since passed to his reward. Another
discourse on "The Swellings of Jordan" has been with us vividly, though
forty years have flown since we heard it in a tiny chapel among the
Northern hills. We can remember, too, an expression now used no more,
but which we have often heard as part of the final appeal with which
such sermons were wont to close. "My friends," the preacher would say,
"I have cleared myself this day of your blood." Sometimes this
declaration would be followed by a challenge in which the ungodly of
the congregation were called to meet the preacher, "on that day when
the books shall be opened and the secrets of all hearts shall be
disclosed," there and then to bear witness of his guiltlessness as to
their damnation. It was very terrible, no doubt, very harrowing, and
often as unpleasant to listen to as to utter, but such preaching was
justified by its results. Many a sinner trembled as his heart was
opened before him. Many a strong man broke into cries and tears as he
saw himself a rebel against divine justice and mercy. Many an one
smote upon his breast in terror as the veil of the future was lifted,
and he saw himself standing guilty before the last tribunal, and
praying for the mountains to fall and hide him from the eyes of an
angry God. In our time, however, such preaching has become a
tradition. It might be centuries since it was a fashion in the land,
for hardly does its echo reach our ears to-day. And concerning this
fact there emerges a curious thing. Confessedly the effect of such
preaching was often the offending of the hearer. It has ever been
so--was so, as we have seen, with the prophets; the apostles; the Lord
Himself--and yet there is complaint when accusation and warning are
withheld, and that, strangely, from the very people who would probably
protest the most against it. It is said, even by these very people,
that nowadays _the preacher does not hurt_; that he fails to find the
conscience. The fact is, there exists in the heart of man an
instinctive expectation that the messenger of God will do t