VISIT TO THE BROOKLYN ACADEMY OF MUSIC--REV. DR. TALMAGE.
_New York, March 2._
Went to hear Dr. T. de Witt Talmage this morning at the Academy of
Music, Brooklyn.
What an actor America has lost by Dr. Talmage choosing the pulpit in
preference to the stage!
The Academy of Music was crowded. Standing-room only. For an
old-fashioned European, to see a theater, with its boxes, stalls,
galleries, open for divine service was a strange sight; but we had not
gone very far into the service before it became plain to me that there
was nothing divine about it. The crowd had come there, not to worship
God, but to hear Mr. Talmage.
At the door the programme was distributed. It consisted of six hymns to
be interluded with prayers by the doctor. Between the fifth and sixth,
he delivered the lecture, or the sermon, if you insist on the name, and
during the sixth there was the collection, that hinge on which the whole
service turns in Protestant places of worship.
I took a seat and awaited with the rest the entrance of Dr. Talmage.
There was subdued conversation going on all around, just as there would
be at a theater or concert: in fact, throughout the whole of the
proceedings, there was no sign of a silent lifting up of the spirit in
worship. Not a person in that strange congregation, went on his or her
knees to pray. Most of them put one hand in front of the face, and this
was as near as they got that morning to an attitude of devotion. Except
for this, and the fact that they did not applaud, there was absolutely
no difference between them and any other theater audience I ever saw.
[Illustration: THE LEADER OF THE CHOIR.]
The monotonous hymns were accompanied by a _cornet-a-piston_, which lent
a certain amount of life to them, but very little religious harmony.
That cornet was the key-note of the whole performance. The hymns,
composed, I believe, for Dr. Talmage's flock, are not of high literary
value. "General" Booth would probably hesitate to include such in the
_repertoire_ of the Salvation Army. Judge of them for yourself. Here
are three illustrations culled from the programme:
Sing, O sing, ye heirs of glory!
Shout your triumphs as you go:
Zion's gates will open for you,
You shall find an entrance through.
'Tis the promise of God, full salvation to give
Unto him who on Jesus, his Son, will believe.
Though the pathway be lonely, and dangerous too, (_sic_)
Surely Jesus is able to carry me thro'.
This is poetry such as you find inside Christmas crackers.
Another hymn began:
One more day's work for Jesus,
One less of life for me!
I could not help thinking that there would be good employment for a
prophet of God, with a stout whip, in the congregations of the so-called
faithful of to-day. I have heard them by hundreds shouting at the top of
their voices:
O Paradise, O Paradise!
'Tis weary waiting here;
I long to be where Jesus is,
To feel, to see him near.
O Paradise, O Paradise!
I greatly long to see
The special place my dearest Lord,
In love, prepares for me!
Knowing something of those people outside the church doors, I have often
thought what an edifying sight it would be if the Lord deigned to listen
and take a few of them at their word. If the fearless Christ were here
on earth again, what crowds of cheats and humbugs he would drive out of
the Temple! And foremost, I fancy, would go the people who, instead of
thanking their Maker who allows the blessed sun to shine, the birds to
sing, and the flowers to grow for them here, howl and whine lies about
longing for the joy of moving on to the better world, to the "special
place" that is prepared for them. If there be a better world, it will be
too good for hypocrites.
After hymn the fifth, Dr. Talmage takes the floor. The audience settled
in their seats in evident anticipation of a good time, and it was soon
clear to me that the discourse was not to be dull at any rate. But I
waited in vain for a great thought, a lofty idea, or refined language.
There came none. Nothing but commonplaces given out with tricks of voice
and the gestures of a consummate actor. The modulations of the voice
have been studied with care, no single platform trick was missing.
The doctor comes on the stage, which is about forty feet wide. He begins
slowly. The flow of language is great, and he is never at a loss for a
word. Motionless, in his lowest tones, he puts a question to us. Nobody
replies, of course. Thereupon he paces wildly up and down the whole
length of the stage. Then, bringing up in full view of his auditors, he
stares at them, crosses his arms, gives a double and tremendous stamp on
the boards, and in a terrific voice he repeats the question, and answers
it. The desired effect is produced: he never misses fire.
Being an old stager of several years' standing myself, I admire him
professionally. Nobody is edified, nobody is regenerated, nobody is
improved, but all are entertained. It is not a divine service, but it is
a clever performance, and the Americans never fail to patronize a clever
performance. All styles go down with them. They will give a hearing to
everybody but the bore, especially on Sundays, when other forms of
entertainment are out of the running.
[Illustration: THE DESIRED EFFECT.]
It is not only the Brooklyn public that are treated to the discourses of
Dr. Talmage, but the whole of America. He syndicates his sermons, and
they are published in Monday's newspapers in all quarters of America. I
have also seen them reproduced in the Australian papers.
The delivery of these orations by Dr. Talmage is so superior to the
matter they are made of, that to read them is slow indeed compared to
hearing them.
At the back of the programme was a flaring advertisement of Dr.
Talmage's paper, called:
CHRISTIAN HERALD AND SIGNS OF OUR TIMES.
A live, undenominational, illustrated Christian paper, with a weekly
circulation of fifty thousand copies, and rapidly increasing. Every
State of the Union, every Province of Canada, and every country in the
world is represented on its enormous subscription list. Address your
subscription to Mr. N., treasurer, etc.
"Signs of our times," indeed!
[Illustration]