WILLIAM WHATELY. Mr. Whately, who was Vicar of Banbury, in Oxfordshire, and died in 1639, had such great reputation as a preacher, that persons of different persuasions went from Oxford and other distant places to hear him. As he always appeared to speak from his heart, his sermons were felt as well as heard, and were often attended with suitable effects. A neighbouring clergyman was once so deeply affected with a sermon preached by Mr. Whately, on bounty to the poor, that he went to him as he came out of the pulpit, and asked what proportion of his income he ought in conscience to give. Whately advised him not to be sparing, and intimated that, when he was far from being in easy circumstances, he resolved himself to set aside a larger sum than ever for charitable uses; the consequence of which was, that God blessed and increased the slender heap from which it was taken, so that he was then able to lend ten times as much as he had formerly been forced to borrow. This good man's death was much lamented by his parishioners, and the following lines are part of his epitaph : "Its William Whately that here lies, SHERLOCK. When Dr. Nicholls waited upon Lord Chancellor Hardwicke with the first volume of Sherlock, the late Bishop of London's sermons, in November, 1753, his lordship asked him whether there was not a sermon on John xx. 30, 31? Dr. N. having replied in the affirmative, the Lord Chancellor desired him to turn to the conclusion, and repeated, verbatim, the animated contrast between the Christian and Mahomedan religion, beginning, "Go to your natural religion," &c. to the end. The same sermon had indeed been published singly, but not less than thirty years before; and the chief circumstance which serves to account for Lord Hardwicke's vivid recollection of it, (notwithstanding its great excellence) was the situation which Sherlock held as Master of the Temple from 1704, until 1753. In Sherlock's farewell letter to the treasurer and masters of the bench, he declares, that he esteemed "his relation to the two societies of the Temple to have been the greatest happiness of his life, as it introduced him to some of the greatest men of the age, and afforded him the opportunities of living and conversing with gentlemen of a liberal education, and of great learning and experience." It seems extremely probable, that the sermon of which Lord Hardwicke took such notice, had been heard by him when first delivered by Sherlock. Dr. Blair, in his Lectures on Rhetoric, points out the very passage which Lord Hardwicke so much admired, as an instance of personification carried as far as prose, even in its highest elevation, will admit. After transcribing it, this elegant critic remarks, "this is more than elegant, it is truly sublime." When Sherlock was promoted to the mastership of the Temple, he was only in the twenty-sixth year of his age. So early an elevation gave some offence; yet it took place at a time when preferments were not lightly bestowed; and Mr. Sherlock in a short time exhibited such talents, as removed all prejudices against him. He exerted the utmost diligence in the cultivation of his talents, and the display of his learning and eloquence; and in the course of a few years, became one of the most celebrated preachers of his time. Notwithstanding some degree of natural impediment, (what is called a thickness of speech) he delivered his sermons with such propriety and energy, as to rivet the attention of his hearers, and command their admiration. STERNE. Sterne being in company with three or four clergymen, was relating a circumstance which happened to him at York. After preaching at the cathedral, an old woman whom he observed sitting on the pulpit stairs, stopt him as he came down, and begged to know where she should have the honour of hearing him preach the next Sunday. Sterne having mentioned the place where he was to exhibit, found he situated in the same manner on that day, when she put the same question to him as before. The following Sunday he was to preach four miles out of York, which he told her; and, to his great surprise, he found her there too, and that the same question was put to him as he descended from the pulpit. "On which," added he, "I took for my text these words, expecting to find my old woman as before: 'I will grant the request of this poor widow, lest by her often coming she weary me.' One of the company imme diately replied, 'Why, Sterne, you omitted the most applicable part of the passage, which is, 'Though I neither fear God nor regard man.'" When Mrs. F. was in England, she attended York races, where she met with Sterne. He rode up to the side of the coach, and accosted her with, "Well, madam, on which horse do you bet?" "Sir," she replied, "if you can tell me which is the worst horse, I will bet upon that." "But why, madam," asked Sterne," do you make so strange a choice ?” "Because," said the lady," you know the race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong." Sterne was so much pleased with this reply, that he went home, and wrote from that text his much admired sermon, entitled, "Time and Chance." WHITFIELD. Few preachers possessed eloquence so well adapted to an auditory, as the Rev. George Whitfield, the able coadjutor of Mr. Wesley in the foundation of Methodism. His metaphors were drawn from sources easily understood by his hearers, and frequently from the circumstances of the moment. The application was generally happy, and sometimes rose to the true sublime; for he was a man of a warm imagination, and by no means devoid of taste. When Mr. Whitfield first went to Scotland, he was received in Edinburgh with a kind of frantic joy by a large body of the citizens. It so happened, that the day after his arrival, an unhappy man who had forfeited his life to the offended laws of his country, was to be executed. Mr. Whitfield mingled in the crowd that was collected on the occasion, and seemed highly pleased with the solemnity and decorum with which so awful a scene was conducted. His appearance however drew the eyes of all around him, and raised a variety of opinions as to the motives which led him to join in the crowd. The next day being Sunday, he preached to a very large congregation in a field near the city. In the course of his sermon, he adverted to the execution which had taken place on the preceding day. "I know," said he, "that many of you will find it difficult to reconcile my appearance yesterday with my character. Many of you, I know, will say, that my moments would have been better employed in praying for the unhappy man, than in attending him to the fatal tree; and that, perhaps, curiosity was the only cause that converted me into a spectator on that occasion; but those who ascribe that uncharitable motive to me, are under a mistake. I went as an observer of human nature, and to see the effect that such an example would have on those who witnessed it. . I watched the conduct of almost every one present on that awful occasion, and I was highly pleased with their demeanour, which has given me a very favourable opinion of the Scottish nation. Your sympathy was visible on your countenances, and reflected the goodness of your hearts, particularly when the moment arrived that your unhappy fellow creature was to close his eyes on this world for ever; then you all, as if moved by one impulse, turned your heads aside, and wept. Those tears were precious, and will be held in remembrance. How different was it when the Saviour of mankind was extended on the cross! The Jews, instead of sympa E |