tion chiefly composed of sailors, he said:-"I am come to preach to great sinners, notorious sinners, profane sinnners ;" and then with significant emphasis, remarked, "Yea to Wapping sinners." The seamen made no objection to his use of the word Wapping, but the polite portion of his hearers were highly indignant that the name of their fashionable locality should be so degraded.

The desire for a "local habitation " is natural to man; it is demonstrated wherever civilization obtains, and among nearly all the barbarous nations of the earth. It is essential to civilization; our cities and rural homes, our cultivated fields, with all the institutions of civilized life, contributing to our physical, social, and moral well-being, are at least partly due to this propensity of our nature. The itinerant preacher is required to resist this propensity, which grows stronger as he grows older, and is seldom, if ever, destroyed; yet, undoubtedly, the sad condition of the world demands that some men should fight a life-long battle with one of the strongest and purest instincts of their nature; and the more amiable, affectionate, and true to their friends they are, the greater the struggle. But as the Gospel is more generally preached, and churches are more rooted and grounded in the faith, the necessity for this sacrifice will diminish. Mr. Hill spent some years as an itinerant preacher; he preached in most of the large towns in the kingdom, and in many populous districts besides; but when the romance of youth had died away, he longed for a settled abode, and the happiness of dwelling among his chosen friends. The famous Surrey Chapel was, therefore, built for him, at a cost of £5,000, and opened for divine worship on the 8th of June, 1783. Mr. Hill preached the first sermon. A violent attack was made upon the sermon and its author, by a reviewer of the day, who said the discourse was "the first-born child of absurdity." That the doctrines he preached might not be misrepresented, he printed the sermon, and in the preface alludes to the conduct of his adversaries:-"Their ignorance also taught them to tell the public how my infatuated hearers would walk for miles uncovered, during the severest rain, by the side of my carriage, singing hymns; that I have frequently spoken till I have spit blood, and much injured my constitution by my extraordinarily energetic mode of delivery. Now, it would be the greatest piece of ill-manners to presume to say I am well, when a body of learned gentlemen pronounce me to be sick; yet such are the wonderful effects of my fanaticism, that I feel no more bad consequences from my much injured constitution, than if my zeal had never exceeded the completest representative of laziness in a cossock."

Public worship in the new chapel was conducted according to the form of the Church of England, with the service slightly abridged; yet the chapel, in the sight of that church, was an un

consecrated meeting-house; but the minister who officiated within its walls was a clergyman of the establishment. And, notwithstanding the opposition and contempt he had suffered from many of the dignitaries of that church, he continued to cling to her, and would not confess himself to be a dissenter. Such is the result of education and early associations, combined with a mind not given to change. He must have remembered, with pleasant and grateful feelings, the happy hours he had spent in the company of his dear young friends at college, with whom he had taken sweet council, and walked to the house of the Lord. Berridge, too, and some other good clergymen, who had taken him kindly by the hand while he was yet in "the slippery paths of youth," could not be forgotten by him. His family, from the time of the Reformation, belonged to the same church, and most of the friends of his mature age were churchmen. There was, therefore, much to induce a firm and grateful man to abide by his early choice. Besides all this, the dissenting churches of that time were generally so low and lifeless as to present few attractions to an ardent mind like his. But he was too enlightened a Christian to be a bigot. He counted many dissenting ministers amongst his dearest friends. They frequently occupied his pulpit, and he was often found in theirs. curious to learn how he would one day preach in an humble conventicle, and on the next Sunday hold forth, in a stately church of the establishment, in company with a bishop. In a letter written to the Rev. D. Simpson, he says:-" Your old friend has much to do; his work increases upon him; he feels the burden. It is astonishing how all doors seem opening. My invitations to preach in the largest churches occur more frequently than ever. Just before I left town, our old friend, Hallifax, Bishop of Gloucester, and myself, preached on the same day, in the same church. Bishops are now come to high honour, to be joined with Methodist parsons." But he seldom saw a larger or more respectable congregation than the one he addressed in his own chapel, which was in the form of an octagon, with sittings for 2,500 persons; but more than 3,000 met within its walls on special occasions, among whom were sometimes seen the Duke of Kent, Sir Richard Hill, Dean Milner, Wilberforce, and many other persons of note.

It is

Mr. Hill had a beautiful residence and chapel at Wotton-underedge, in Gloucestershire, and his custom was to reside there during the summer, while the evangelical ministers of all denominations supplied his place in London. Among those of the Church of England were, his old friend Berridge, and Scott, the commentator; and among the nonconformists were, Jay of Bath, and Bull of Newport Pagnel.

After Mr. Hill's settlement at Surrey Chapel, he sometimes took advantage of the summer to visit distant parts of the country,

preaching in churches, chapels, and in the open air, as he had done in the early part of his ministry, encountering in some places much opposition, and even brutal persecution. But the acuteness with which he often met and vanquished his opponents was admirable. While preaching at Bristol, his father, who still disapproved of his son's irregular conduct, sent his brother Richard "to admonish him." When Richard arrived at Bristol, he learnt that Rowland had gone to preach at Kingswood. He followed him to that place, and found him preaching to a large congregation of colliers, who were listening with great attention to his brother's discourse, while tears rolled down their cheeks. Rowland saw Richard in the crowd before him, and informed the people that his brother, "Richard Hill, Esq.," would preach to them on the morrow, which was no small surprise to Richard. But his feelings were so overcome by the effect he had seen of his brother's sermon on the pitmen, that he addressed them the next day, according to the announcement, instead of administering to the preacher the intended admonition. Attempting to preach in the open air at a seaport, the mob made a great noise, and pelted him with rotten eggs and stones, which made it impossible to proceed for some time. He was on horseback, accompanied by his servant. After a pause he said to them, "My lads, I have no right over you; if you do not choose to hear me, I have no authority to force your attention; but I have travelled some miles for the sake of doing or receiving good; I have, therefore, a proposal to make to you. I always did admire British sailors. I see here some able-bodied seamen; some of you, no doubt, have seen a great deal of service, and have been in many a storm, and some in dangerous shipwrecks. Now, as I am very fond of hearing the adventures of seamen, my proposal is, that some of you, and as many as you please in turn, shall stand up and tell us what you have seen and suffered, and what dangers you have escaped, and I will sit and hear you out, upon this conditionthat you agree to hear me afterwards. The proposal was received with loud laughter, and then, looking at each other, some of them said, "Do you stand up and give us a lecture." There was a

sailor present who was a great talker, and one said to him, "I say, Harry, do you give him a lecture," which was followed by another burst of laughter; and to keep them in a pleasant mood, the preacher laughed too. After waiting a reasonable time, Mr. Hill enquired, "Will none of you take my proposal?” There was no reply. He then observed, "I am a clergyman; I came, not long since, from the University of Cambridge. If you had heard me, I should have told you nothing but what is in the Bible or Prayerbook. I will tell you what I intended to say to you, if you had heard me quietly." And then proceeded with a touching discourse on the love of Christ to sinners, in the way of telling them what

he would have said, if he had been permitted to preach to them. The great crowd drew nearer to him, and listened in respectful silence to the whole of his sermon. He then took off his hat, bowed to them, and thanked them for their good behaviour. The sailors returned the compliment by taking off their hats, and giving him three cheers. Several of them called out, "When will you come again, sir?" And one who appeared to be the chief among them, told him, "If you will come again, sir, I say no one shall hurt a hair of your head, if I am on shore."

Mr. Hill extended his evangelizing excursions to Wales and Ireland, and, at the invitation of James Haldane, Esq., he visited Scotland in the summer of 1798. Immense numbers flocked to hear him wherever he was published to preach. He addressed as many as 20,000 on Calton Hill, at Edinburgh. He was generally well received, and "several hundred souls were added to the Church of Christ." The ministers and members of all denominations at Paisley gave him a cordial reception. He was delighted to find them all "dwelling together in unity," and remarked, "This makes Paisley the Paradise of Scotland."

His first visit having been so successful, he devoted several weeks of the following summer to another tour in Scotland. But on his arrival, he was surprised to find that the churches of that country had denounced all irregular preaching, and the holding of religious services in the fields and other places, not set apart for divine worship; and that the people had been warned not to countenance such proceedings in any way whatever, to the great grief of many earnest Christians. Mr. Hill was much grieved too, and was moved to denounce their proceedings in return, peppering the venerable heads of the Scottish churches with his remorseless wit and sarcasm, showing great ingenuity in the use of those weapons. "In every sermon he fired red hot shots against the General Assembly and the General Associate Synod. It was astonishing how he varied his mode of attack on every occasion." But it seems this preaching against his mistaken brethren did not succeed in converting any one, nor, perhaps, in convincing his opponents of the error of their ways. He afterwards regretted the course he had pursued, and resolved, should he be permitted to visit Scotland again, "to know nothing among them save Jesus Christ and him crucified." He crossed the border once more, but not till 1824. It was a happy and successful tour, and he returned home with the comfortable assurance that the blessing of God had attended his labours.

As an indication of his good feeling towards the ministers of Scotland, he always requested that some of them should occupy his pulpit at Surrey Chapel on the occasion of the anniversary of the London Missionary Society, when he much enjoyed the privilege

of hearing them preach, among whom were Dr. Chalmers, and other well-known preachers.

Mr. Hill was not one of the most devoted students, but was careful to ascertain the real meaning of the text he preached from; and for this purpose he consulted the best commentators, never forgetting Matthew Henry. The sermon often contained a good deal which the text did not suggest; yet his discourses were generally very interesting and instructive, and often adorned with passages of great beauty. The following may be read as specimens:"All the light in the world put together will not unfold to us the glories of the sun; it is only to be seen by its own light. So the sun of righteousness is seen by human eyes, as the brightness of the Father's glory, by the light which guides his people to himself.” "It is that preaching which beautifully sets forth the kindness of God our Saviour, which is generally more impressive and useful than the exhibition of the terrors of the law. The loud and sudden thunder-storm alarms us for the moment, but soon passes away, and is forgotten; but the delightful and cooling breeze which we sometimes feel at the close of a summer day, refreshes and cheers us. Such is the effect of the still small voice of the Gospel of peace." "The world has a sad effect upon professors of religion. It makes them very giddy if they get too much connected with it. I was once ascending a ladder, and soon found my head beginning to swim. 'Look up, sir, look up, sir,' cried a workman; 'nobody feels giddy when he looks up.' And so I found it. Look up, brethren, in all your enjoyments, and then your conversation will be in heaven, and you will escape the giddy influence of the present world." "I remember once being in company where a very fine child was present; he was very beautiful, but he was blind; and he laughed at those who lamented his great affliction. Ah! but if he had once enjoyed the blessing of vision, he would have lamented his loss too. Let us once see the glory and grace of the Saviour, as displayed in the Gospel, and feel them applied to our hearts, and we shall never forget their beauty."

He never forgot that in nearly all congregations there are some who are ignorant and dull of apprehension, and was therefore careful to speak in such a manner as all could comprehend his meaning. The preacher's mission is as much to this class as it is to the more enlightened, if not more so. Mr. Jay says, "He had a remarkable talent for seizing a powerful thought, and even a profound argument, and bringing it within the reach of the popular understanding, and also by means of some familiar, or shrude, or striking allusion, furnishing it with a handle to enable them to take hold of it, and carry it away." He was once speaking to a congregation of farmers and their servants, when he undertook to answer the question, "Have not the heathen sufficient light? and if so, why