from false theories. One unsound principle may mean shipwreck.
Amongst the many questions discussed by aspirants to pulpit
success, perhaps the greatest prominence is given to the relative
merits of the written or the extemporary sermon. This is so
important that its full treatment demands an entire chapter.

Before coming to close quarters we may premise a question. If the
carefully prepared sermon cost as little trouble as the
extemporary effort, would the world ever have heard of this
discussion? Oh! the fatal tendency to move on the lines of least
resistance, to glide on the downward slope, and when we have
reached the bottom to manufacture arguments and apologies
justifying the course we selected! When the question is probed to
the bottom you will find that all advocacy of extemporary
preaching resolves itself into an apology for laziness.

To me the question has long since ceased to be anything more than
a mere academic one, useful perhaps for a debating class, where
youthful gladiators flesh their harmless swords. In practical
life, the well written, the well prepared sermon was the only one
I discovered able to bear the test of experience.

[Side note: Manning]

At the threshold of this discussion the authority of Cardinal
Manning may be invoked against us, who, without condemning the
written sermon, shows a decided preference for speaking from
notes. A written sermon, such as advocated, could scarcely be
before his mind when he wrote that chapter in "The Eternal
Priesthood." It is evident he had in view the post-renaissance