he should infringe the dignity of deliberate composition. This
forgetfulness of self, this unconstrained following the impulse of the
affections, while he is hurried on by the presence and attention of
those whom he hopes to benefit, creates a sympathy between him and his
hearers, a direct passage from heart to heart, a mutual understanding of
each other, which does more to effect the true object of religious
discourse, than any thing else can do. The preacher will, in this way,
have the boldness to say many things which ought to be said, but about
which, in his study, he would feel reluctant and timid. And granting
that he might be led to say some things improperly, yet if his mind be
well disciplined, and well governed, and his discretion habitual, he
will do it exceedingly seldom; while no one, who estimates the object of
preaching as highly as he should, will think an occasional false step
any objection against that mode which ensures upon the whole the
greatest boldness and earnestness. He will think it a less fault than
the tameness and abstractness, which are the besetting sins of
deliberate composition. At any rate, what method is secure from
occasional false steps?

Another consideration which recommends this method to the attention of
preachers, though at the same time it indicates one of its difficulties,
is this; that all men, from various causes, constitutional or
accidental, are subject to great inequality in the operations of their
minds--sometimes laboring with felicity and sometimes failing. Perhaps
this fact is in no men so observable as in preachers, because no others
are so much compelled to labor, and exhibit their labors, at all
seasons, favorable and unfavorable. There is a certain quantity of the
severest mental toil to be performed every week; and as the mind cannot
be always in the same frame, they are constantly presenting proofs of
the variation of their powers. Now an extemporaneous speaker is of
course exposed to all this inequality of spirits, and must expect to be
sometimes mortified by ill success. When the moment of speaking arrives,
his mind may be slow and dull, his thoughts sluggish and impeded; he may
be exhausted by labor, or suffering from temporary indisposition. He
strives in vain to rally his powers, and forces his way, with thorough
discomfort and chagrin, to the end of an unprofitable talk. But then how
many men _write_ under the same embarrassments, and are equally
dissatis