d as a heretic any person whose creed was a little
more hopeful than their own. It might possibly be shown that there is
some truth in the suggestion that they were not always able to render a
reason for their convictions with an intelligence and a wealth of
knowledge proportionate to the strength with which they held them. But
they _did_ know where they were. They _could_ identify themselves
among theologians. They were ready with a confession of faith. This
is _so_, and _this_ and _this_, they could say. _That_ will come to
pass, and _that_ and _that_, they affirmed, as if they saw it all
enacted before them. The result of this strong believing was seen in
the production of strong belief and, better still, of determined action
in those to whom they preached; for belief is at least as infectious as
doubt, as the records of spiritual movements and the biographies of
religious leaders of all schools will prove. There was no theorising
in those camp-meeting sermons to which the people of this land were
listening a hundred years ago; no "honest doubt" in those invitations
heard upon the greens of the villages and in the market-places of the
towns while yet the last century was young. Here were preachers as
sure of their message as they were of their own existence. Of "mental
reservations" they knew nothing. They had never even heard the term.
They dealt in "wills" and "shalls"; not in "peradventures" or "maybes."
They said of a thing "it is" or "it is not." They went up into such
pulpits as they possessed, not to conduct a public inquiry after truth,
but to declare it. They were not out in search of a gospel adapted to
the needs of the age. They had found the one sure way of life adapted
to this and every other time. This they cried aloud, and then lifting
up their voices in song, "Turn to the Lord and seek salvation," they
went marching on, while men followed enquiring with weeping eyes, "What
must we do to be saved?"

Such was the preaching of our fathers, crude enough, much of it, no
doubt; lacking, perhaps, many of the literary excellencies and graces
of the preaching of our later days, yet mighty because of its very
sureness, because of its splendid dogmatism. The complaint goes that
the pulpit of our time lacks this positive note; that by word or tone
the preacher conveys the impression that he is "not quite sure." It is
reported that he suggests where once he proclaimed, surmises where once
he decla