up such a
volume of harmony from this vast throng as is never listened to outside
of Plymouth Church. The singing is wonderful.

The gem of the whole service, however, is the sermon; and these sermons
are characteristic of the man. They come warm and fresh from his heart,
and they go home to the hearer, giving him food for thought for days
afterward. To attempt to describe his manner would be to paint the
sunbeam. Eloquence can be felt, but it can not be described. He enchains
the attention of his auditors from the first, and they hang upon his
utterances with rapt eagerness until the close of the sermon.

He knows human nature thoroughly, and he talks to his people of what
they have been thinking of during the week, of trials that have
perplexed them, and of joys which have blessed them. He takes the clerk
and the merchant to task for their conduct in the walks of business, and
warns them of the snares and pitfalls which lie along their paths. He
strips the thin guise of honesty from the questionable transactions of
Wall Street, and holds them up to public scorn. He startles many a one
by his sudden penetration and denunciation of what that one supposes to
be the secrets of his heart. His dramatic power is extraordinary. He can
hardly be responsible for it, since it breaks forth almost without his
will. It is simply unavoidable with him. He moves his audience to tears,
or brings a mirthful smile to their lips, with a power that is
irresistible. His illustrations and figures are drawn chiefly from
nature, and are fresh and striking. They please the subtlest philosopher
who hears him, and illuminate the mind of the average listener with a
flood of light. He can startle his people with the terrors of the law,
but he prefers to preach the Gospel of Love. "God's love for those who
are scattered and lost," he says, "is intenser and deeper than the love
even of a mother.... God longs to bring you home more than you long to
get there. He has been calling, calling, calling, and listening for your
answer. And when you are found, and you lay your head on the bosom of
Jesus, and you are at rest, you will not be so glad as He will be who
declared that, like a shepherd, he had joy over one sinner that repented
more than over ninety and nine just persons that needed no repentance."

Religion is to him an abiding joy; it is perfect love, and casteth out
fear. It has no gloom, no terror in it, and he says to his people: "If
God gave