_ who
has to be conquered. This, we surely know through our own spiritual
experiences. He is bone of our bone, flesh of our flesh. Here is
surely one reason why the Master sets men to preach to men:--Because
every preacher has been himself a rebel and knows the way rebellion
takes in heart and brain. Ours also was once the stubborn will; ours
the stiff neck; ours the evil heart of unbelief. We, as well as he
whom we now assail for Jesus' sake, have said, "I will not have this
man to reign over me." Once upon a time we, also, bore ourselves
proudly and contemptuously. Never are we weary of thinking of the
wonder that ever we were brought to ground our arms at the Master's
feet. Will the winning of others be easier than was the victory won
over ourselves? Now that we battle against what once we were and did,
we should understand from memory the immensity of the task. Once
realised, it should never be forgotten. There is no miracle in all the
Gospel history greater than the miracle of a broken human will.

Yes, the preacher's work is at the best a supremely hard one. The
sense of this hardness must get into his soul, or else all hope of
success will be vain. Should there ever come to him a moment in which
it shall appear an easy thing to preach, or when his knowledge of the
congregation awaiting him shall seem to indicate that "anything will
do," then let him, in that moment, consider himself in peril of missing
the true end of his calling. _Anything will not do_. The very best
will hardly do! Think of the hardness of the heart! Think of the
arguments of the tempter! Think how fair and sweet sin often seems!
Think of all the sacrifice and self-denial and self-surrender we are
asking from men! Here is need for the utmost diligence; for the
development of every latent power of persuasion; for the employment of
every ounce of energy, of every resource of skill; for the expenditure
of every volt of passion the soul can contain. We can only hope to
capture the citadel when the utmost possibilities of attack are brought
to bear upon it. Even then the garrison may hold out against us!

And the ultimate possibilities of attack are the ultimate possibilities
of appeal. We speak of appeal as a quality that must pervade the whole
of the sermon. We have heard counsels on preaching in which advice was
given about "_the_ appeal" or "the _final_ appeal," whereby were meant
certain perorative paragraphs; the remain