SECT. VII. REASONS FOR HOPE AND DISCOURAGEMENT ON ENTERING THE SACRED OFFICE.

Although God acts as a Sovereign in giving success to preachers of his truth, yet he ordinarily blesses their services according to certain laws which himself has originated, and on which he allows them to calculate in some degree. Some of Hopkins's natural and moral characteristics promised a life of usefulness in the ministry; but he possessed other traits which depressed him, and indicated that he could better serve his race by scientific study than by oral address.

The influence of a public speaker is very much affected by his external appearance. The person of Hopkins was dignified, but not graceful. He was more than six feet in height, had a full chest, a large head and face, high cheek bones, a broad, capacious forehead, a gray or blue eye, which his friends and disciples represent as beaming with intelligence. He was erect in his figure, and his whole person was of gigantic proportions. Some friends of his, now living, remark that when, with his white, full-bottomed, powdered wig, his three-cornered hat, his silver knee buckles and shoe buckles, he walked at the right hand of General Washington, with Governor Arthur Fenner at the left, through the streets of Newport, Rhode Island, during Washington's visit to that town, the stature of Hopkins appeared as imposing, although his motions were by no means so pleasing, as those of the father of his country. Although in his old age Hopkins moved slowly and clumsily, yet in his early life he was noted for agility of frame, and several of his athletic feats are still described by the village chroniclers. His manners, too, although awkward, were commanding. In an association of ministers, he inspired all with an affectionate awe. Dr. Samuel Spring said, that he always trembled in Hopkins's presence. Not only in his youth, but even in his extreme age, Hopkins paid a fitting attention to his dress, which was always neat. His motions, especially in later life, were slow, and indicated the habitual composure of his mind. There was a want of flexibility in his intercourse with promiscuous circles, which prevented his being a favorite among them. He was not a genial companion with the masses. He was rather inclined to be taciturn, except among chosen friends. His thoughts

* An old man of ninety-six years, who lived in Newport before, and while, and after Dr. Hopkins preached there, and who belonged to Dr. Hopkins's church and choir, says, that the doctor always attracted attention in the streets, as an upright and tall man. Strangers, presuming that he was a great man, would at once take off their hats when they met him." A Baptist clergyman of Newport was wont to say, "Dr. Hopkins's countenance always reminds me of the beloved disciple."

This reminiscence of his friends is here mentioned, not for the purpose of indorsing its historical accuracy, but for the sake of disclosing the impression which Hopkins's figure and bearing made upon his surviving favorites. The writer has no means of ascertaining the truth of the report, that Hopkins officiated as chaplain when the first President of the Union visited Newport.

were in solid bullion, and he had but little small change. Seldom speaking unless he had something to say, he failed to please a somewhat comprehensive class of both men and women. Besides, when he saw marks of vanity or arrogance in others, he recoiled within himself, and appeared blank to them. Hence he has sometimes been misrepresented as unintellectual in his aspect.*

In the pulpit, his appearance was dignified, solemn, and even fearful. A little girl was once found weeping, because she dared not go into the meeting-house where he was to preach; for she said, "When I look up into the pulpit, I think I see God there." Still he was no orator. He had more of homely strength than of polish. He was blunt, though kindly, in his accents. He could deliver " a metaphysical essay with very just emphasis;-Dr. William Patten was wont to say that Hopkins's reading of such a treatise was equal to any other man's commentary upon it; but he pronounced ungracefully and inaccurately; he made but few gestures, and those were awkward; his voice was not good,† and his whole enunciation was apt to be drawling and monotonous. He mourned over his ungainly style, was often depressed in view of it, and he strenuously advised young preachers to study the proprieties of outward manner.

"I am troubled," he complains, in his twenty-third year, "with a sort of tone, which I cannot get rid of." And in his seventy-fifth year, reviewing his ministry, he says, "I am sensible that I was greatly deficient and negligent in the former part of my life in my attention to language and taking pains to obtain a good delivery, which occasioned a very bad and disagreeable delivery, and rendered me, not a good, but a bad speaker; especially in the former part of my ministry; though since, for above thirty years, I have made some im

* A distinguished author, describing his visit to Dr. Hopkins, says, "There is nothing striking in his manner and conversation. On the contrary, there is something which would lead a person ignorant of his character to think him rather weak, and simple, and unthinking. He looks like a vacant-minded man, and his conversation on common and ordinary topics is not calculated to remove such an impression." This criticism is important, for in the Memoir of the eminent man who made the criticism, it is confessed, that "to strangers, and especially to those who had no prepossessions in his favor, there was in his [this critic's] manners an air of something magisterial or repulsive, which kept many at a distance, and which even his best friends regretted," and which, we may add, Dr. Hopkins was one of the last men on earth to encourage. It was a marked peculiarity of Hopkins, and of Edwards, to seem to know nothing before men who seemed to know too much.

The voice of Mr. Hopkins has been variously described. In his old age, it was, of course, more unpleasant than in his early life. A literary gentleman, who remembers him only as he spoke in his later years, gives a representation somewhat diverse from that given by Dr. Patten, and says of Hopkins, "His voice was as far removed from melodiousness as voice well could be. He seemed never to have learned that it was flexible, capable of an infinite variety of modulation. He spoke ever on the same keya heavy, inelastic monotone." Several of his former parishioners, on the contrary, describe his voice as solemn, and at times impressive. Is it not probable that those who listened to him most frequently felt the defects of his utterance least sensibly, and that those who were familiar with him before his extreme old age, did not notice the faults which increased with increase of years, and made a deep impression on his younger hearers? When he commenced his ministry, there may have been nothing discouraging in his vocal powers, but they wanted culture.

provement in my delivery, by paying more attention to it, and to language, by which I have been in a great measure cured of some of my bad habits, contracted through inattention, and the want of a friend to point them out to me and admonish me. When I first began to preach, my mind was inquiring after truth; and this pleased and satisfied me wherever I could find it, without attending much to the manner or the language by which it was conveyed to my mind. And I took it for granted that this was the case with others. This led me to inquire after truth, and in my sermons to convey it to others, without attending properly to the manner and the language in which it was communicated; so that while, I trust, I made some proficiency in the knowledge of the truth, I was careless as to the manner of communicating it, and contracted these bad habits, with respect to this, which it was not easy, if possible, to get wholly rid of, when I became sensible of my mistake, and was convinced of the importance of studying good language and a proper delivery." +

This tautological extract affords an apt illustration of the truth, that unless a man study the principles of elocution in his early life, he will seldom become master of them; and unless he form a good English style before he begins to preach, he is in danger of never forming one. The youthful Hopkins did not obtain a mastery of his mother tongue. His strong feelings vented themselves in strong words, (how could he help it?) but he did not explore the resources of the language; he did not learn its compass, its dignity, its graces, its delicate shades of meaning, its refined distinctions. ‡ This, whether he perceived it or not, was to be one of the chief hindrances to his power over an audience. He selected his words clumsily. He often chose, or rather stumbled upon, more energetic terms than he really meant to use. He did not know the meaning of a euphemism. Hence he was often liable to be misunderstood, to give unintended offence. Thus he advises a young lady: “Always disregard and avoid, as much as you can, and slight, and even despise, those who speak light of and ridicule religion and sacred things." Now, the good man did not mean that she should despise any part of "being in general," but rather that she should despise

That this honest chronicler endeavored to improve in elocution is true; that he succeeded is not generally believed. He mistook the good effort for a good result. Sketches, etc., p. 92.

In his earlier ministry he had a contempt for rhetorical study. When called to criticize a youthful preacher, before an association who had unanimously applauded that preacher for his eloquence of manner, Mr. Hopkins added to their compliments the following remark: "Your sermon, sir, was very beautiful, very eloquent; I was pleased with it; but, sir, you know I am a blunt man, and a thousand such sermons would do no good to a rat." The writer once heard this criticism justified as literally correct. Here it may be well enough to say, that if his biography can be of no other use to a public speaker, it may illustrate, by contrast, the worth of rhetorical culture. A quaint clergyman once remarked to a circle of candidates for the ministry, "Three things make out a call for you to preach: first, you must desire to preach; secondly, you must be able to preach; thirdly, you must be able to get men to come and hear you." The first requisite comprised a good heart; the second, a good intellect; the third, a good style and utterance. The sequel will show that Hopkins began his min istry with a better power of expression than he had when he closed it; but in the main be exerted his influence by the matter, in despite of the manner, of his sermons.

the character of irreligious wits. In a very benevolent epistle, which announces his intention to expose the low and disreputable nature of a certain assault upon him, the kind-hearted writer blunders into the nervous assertion, that he shall take "notice of a number of things" tending to make his assailant "ashamed, and render him mean, and even ridiculous, in the eyes of the public." He obviously meant something less intense than what he said.

No one can rightly estimate Dr. Hopkins as a theologian, without considering this fault of his rhetoric. There is often an oaken strength, a compressed energy, a real pith, in his style; a vigor and compactness of single phrases, a fulness and not unfrequent richness as well as force of expression; but there is oftener an inelegant and cumbrous arrangement of terms, a tedious verbosity, interchanging itself strangely with some most concise utterances; and above all, there is an infelicitous use of harder and harsher words than he would have selected, had he examined more minutely the "distinctions of sound." These unhappy words tended to prejudice many against his discourses, and they still deter many from a patient study of his speculations.

and he seldom wanHis soul was on the

The intellectual powers of this youthful preacher betokened his eminent usefulness in the church. He was distinguished for his retentive memory. When, in mature life, he was asked to explain any prominent passage in the Bible, he could not only repeat it, but also its preceding and succeeding context, and could add a statement of the opinions expressed upon it by Bishop Newton, Flavel, Baxter, Guyse, Doddridge, and all the most noted commentators. Still, his genius did not promise the highest success in the pulpit. As his literary taste had received but little culture, so his imagination was less vigorous and active than is needed for popular oratory. He was at home in meditating on abstract truth, dered among the beautiful illustrations of it. loftiest topics, and it was difficult for him to come down to the familiar processes of lower minds. His habits of abstraction were fitted to remove the style of his preaching beyond the sympathies of undisciplined thinkers. He was a philosopher and a logician; and how difficult it is for such a man to become a fervid exhorter! His mental tendencies and his college habits indicated that he would adopt an abstruse manner of preaching; and after he had been in the ministry about fifty years, Dr. Ashbel Green says of him, "I have had queries with myself whether his abstruse manner of preaching has not contributed to drive his people from him."* Meditative and grave, he seemed to live above the world; but the world claims of its favorites that they come down lower. One who now lives to remember and honor him says, "Whenever he met me in

* Green's Life, p. 240.

my childhood, as I passed his house to my school, he inquired for my name, and the name of my father; but never seemed to notice my answers so as to recollect them, but appeared to be lost in divinity." This last phrase happily describes his appearance as he ascended the pulpit. He looked as if he was lost in divinity, when children and mothers in his audience longed for a warmer glow of fellow-feeling with poor, frail humanity.

a so

In this respect, however, his appearance did injustice to his inmost heart. He was a man of the most earnest philanthropy. The ensuing Memoir is a history of his beneficence. His love to his race was comprehensive. It looked forward to the end of things. It made him faithful in reproof; still, this kind of fidelity did not promise to make him a favorite with the masses. His kindly feeling led him to become a plain-spoken man; but will not such a man have enemies? He was inwardly and thoroughly honest: briquet often applied to him in his later years, even by his opponents, was, Old Sincerity. But it has been shrewdly said, that "strict honesty is an obstacle to one who would press through crowds." He had withal a remarkable degree of native modesty, which his friends would love, but which would indispose him to force his way to the high places of the earth. Even in recording his own age, he would betray his lowly estimate of himself. "I suppose," " he writes on one of his Fast-Saturdays, September 17, 1743,“I suppose". and did not the good man really know? " that I am this day twenty-two years old, and that this is my birthday." Such native lowliness laid a firm basis for his Christian humility, which was, perhaps, his most prominent virtue. While it ever led him to disparage himself, it promised success to his inquiries after truth. Only that man is fitted for sacred studies, who feels his urgent need of them. The Most High dwells in the heart of the contrite, and prospers the efforts of those who renounce themselves for him.

It appears, then, that Hopkins had reasons for persevering in the ministry, although he had several characteristics which interfered with the popularity of his preaching. His first reception among the churches was also fitted to encourage, although not to flatter him. Having a strong mind, and strong feelings, he often expressed them in strong language, and he thus affected strong men. His influence on vigorous minds was greater than on feeble; but he sometimes moved the masses. Thus he writes about six weeks after he began to speak in public:

"July 3, 1741. I have this day rode from [North] Hampton to Suffield, in order to preach. By the way, I was much drawn out in ardent desires that God would go with me, and that I might do something for his honor. I heard two sermons, and, being desired, I preached a third. The power of the Lord came down, and many of his children were filled with the Holy Ghost. I had a freedom in speaking which I never had before. I could not be heard all