e Pulpit" at so
late an hour in the evening, that I can only conceive of but one merit
in any response to the present toast, and that is brevity. I had always
supposed that the pulpit was "sleepy" enough in its effect upon men in
the early hours of the day, at least that was my conclusion, in so far
as it has been my privilege to see men present, at pulpit ministrations,
leaving us as they do for the most part to preach to women and children.
Shall I confess that the feeling came over me during the first part of
the evening that I was rather out of place among so many laymen, alone
as a representative of the clergy; but later, I found confidence through
a sense of kinship in suffering, for is it not true that we represent
two of the best abused professions in the world? I do not mean by that,
abuse _ab extra_. I am told indeed, occasionally, that the pulpit is
effete, that its place has been filled by the press and lecture
platform, that there is no further use for it. But I do not know that I
have heard abuse _ab extra_ of the Bar, unless some ill-natured person
should read it into the broad Scotch pronunciation of an old friend of
mine who used to say to me, "Ah, the lieyers, the lieyers."

But what we must needs guard against is abuse from within. In the first
place we are a good deal given to self-congratulation. I use the first
person plural and not the second person; I remember a friend of mine, a
distinguished clergyman in Boston, an Englishman, who once ventured to
preach upon political corruption in the municipal government, and the
next day he had the audacity to drop into the office of one of the
business men of his congregation and say, "What did you think of that
sermon?"--a very dangerous question, by the way, always to ask--and the
reply came promptly, "You had better go and be naturalized so that you
can say 'we sinners,' instead of 'you sinners.'" [Laughter.] Since that
time, from the pulpit or from any other place, I have hesitated to say,
"You sinners," and I will promise to say "we sinners" to-night.

But truly the pulpit and the Bar, in their ideal, are, as it were, "the
voice of one crying in the wilderness," a witness to the eternal truth.
Are they not? The pulpit is sent forth to herald the love of God, and
the Bar is sent forth to herald the justice of God; but they don't
always succeed. I can speak from experience for the pulpit, that the
position of authority, the claim of a divine mission, is