Judge not the preacher; for he is thy judge:
If thou mislike him, thou conceiv'st him not.
read more

Judge not the preacher; for he is thy judge:
If thou mislike him, thou conceiv'st him not.
God calleth preaching folly. Do not grudge
To pick out treasures from an earthen pot.
The worst speak something good. If all want sense,
God takes a text, and preaches patience.

Hear how he clears the points o' Faith
Wi' rattling an' thumpin'!
Now meekly calm, now wild read more

Hear how he clears the points o' Faith
Wi' rattling an' thumpin'!
Now meekly calm, now wild in wrath,
He's stampin', and he's jumpin'!

Oh, for a forty-parson power to chant
Thy praise, Hypocrisy! Oh, for a hymn
Loud as the read more

Oh, for a forty-parson power to chant
Thy praise, Hypocrisy! Oh, for a hymn
Loud as the virtues thou dost loudly vaunt,
Not practise!

The priest he merry is, and blithe
Three-quarters of a year,
But oh! it cuts him like read more

The priest he merry is, and blithe
Three-quarters of a year,
But oh! it cuts him like a scythe
When tithing time draws near.

I venerate the man whose heart is warm,
Whose hands are pure, whose doctrine and whose life,
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I venerate the man whose heart is warm,
Whose hands are pure, whose doctrine and whose life,
Coincident, exhibit lucid proof
That he is honest in the sacred cause.

For the preacher's merit or demerit,
It were to be wished that the flaws were fewer
In read more

For the preacher's merit or demerit,
It were to be wished that the flaws were fewer
In the earthen vessel, holding treasure,
But the main thing is, does it hold good measure
Heaven soon sets right all other matters!

But Cristes loore, and his Apostles twelve
He taughte, but first he folowed it hymselfe.

But Cristes loore, and his Apostles twelve
He taughte, but first he folowed it hymselfe.

Alas for the unhappy man that is called to stand in the pulpit,
and not give the bread of read more

Alas for the unhappy man that is called to stand in the pulpit,
and not give the bread of life.

The things that mount the rostrum with a skip,
And then skip down again, pronounce a text,
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The things that mount the rostrum with a skip,
And then skip down again, pronounce a text,
Cry hem; and reading what they never wrote
Just fifteen minutes, huddle up their work,
And with a well-bred whisper close the scene!