endowments, and a very powerful voice. They are not judges of
good acting; they cannot see whether or not an actor understands his
part; they have no opinion on the subject at all: but Mr. Brooke has a
name, and they run to hear him. It is the same with Dr. Cumming. The
intrepid females, the genteel young men, who go to hear him, are no more
judges of learning and ability than any other miscellaneous London mob:
but Dr. Cumming has a name. Carriages with strawberry leaves deposit
high-born ladies at his chapel. Lord John Russell goes to hear him.
Actually, he has preached before the Queen. So the chapel is crammed, as
if there was something wonderful to see and hear.

I confess I am of a contrary opinion. I cannot--to quote the common
phrase of religious society--'sit under' Dr. Cumming. I weary of his Old
Testament and his high-dried Scotch theology, and his Romanist
antipathies, and his Millennial hopes. 'You tell me, Doctor,' I would
say to him, 'that I am a sinner--born in sin, and shapen in
iniquity--that I am utterly and completely bad. Why not, then, speak to
me so as to do me good? I care nothing for the Pope! Immured as I am in
the business of the world--with difficulty earning my daily bread--I have
little time to think of the Millennium, or to discuss whether the Jewish
believer, some two thousand years ago, saw in his system anything beyond
it and above it--anything brighter and better than itself. The student,
in his cell, may discuss such questions--as the schoolmen of the middle
ages sought to settle how many angels could dance on the point of a
needle--but I, and men like me, need to be ministered to in another way.
Men who preach to me must not wrestle with extinct devils, but with real
ones. What I want is light upon the living present, not upon the dead
and buried past. Around me are the glare and splendour of life--beauty's
smile--ambition's dream--the gorgeousness of wealth--the pride of power.
Are these things worth living for? Is there anything for man higher and
better? and, if so, how can I drown the clamour of their seductive
voices, and escape into a more serene and purer air?' And how am I to
know that these professing Christians, so well dressed, listening with
such complacency while Dr. Cumming demolishes Cardinal Wiseman--are
better than other men? As tradesmen, are they upright? As members of
the commonwealth, are they patriotic? As religious men, are their lives
pure