ure, the subjects in which they are
interested, the Scriptural attainments which they have already made,
and the like--it is one of the prime secrets of the preacher's art,
and I will return to speak of it more fully in a subsequent lecture. I
once heard Mr. Spurgeon preach a characteristic sermon on an unusual
text. It was on these words in Hosea: "I was unto them as they that
take off the yoke on their jaws, and I laid meat unto them." To
illustrate the first clause he drew a graphic picture of a London
carter in Cornhill loosening the harness, when his horse had
surmounted the incline, taking the bit out of its mouth, and fastening
on the corn-bag; and he applied the second clause with humorous wisdom
to the behaviour of preachers. As the carter in the stable "lays" the
hay to his horse, so the preacher has to "lay" the food to the
congregation. The carter must not put the food too high, where the
horse cannot reach up to it, nor too low, where it cannot get down to
it, but just where it can seize and devour it with comfort. So the
preacher must neither pitch his message too high, where it will be
above the comprehension of the congregation, nor too low, where it
will not command their respect, but just where they can reach it
easily and comfortably. This quaint illustration has often recurred to
me in the study, and made me anxiously consider whether I was putting
the truth in such a way that the congregation could grasp it.

Many rules have been proposed for winning the attention of the
congregation. Some have laid stress on commencing the sermon with
something striking. Mr. Moody, the evangelist, whose opinion on such a
subject ought to be valuable, recommends the preacher to crowd in his
best things at the beginning, when the attention is still fresh.
Others have favoured the opposite procedure. During the first half of
the discourse nearly every audience will give the speaker a chance. At
this point, therefore, the heavier and drier things which need to be
said ought to occur. But about the middle of the discourse the
attention begins to waver. Here, therefore, the more picturesque and
interesting things should begin to come; and the very best should be
reserved for the close, so that the impression maybe strongest at the
last.[31] St. Augustine says that a discourse should instruct,
delight and convince;[32] and perhaps these three impressions should,
upon the whole, follow this order. The more instructive elem