The author of my father's funeral sermon has so aptly described him in the pulpit, that I shall quote his words:-

"Dr. Woods did not, as some still do, divorce religion from reason, faith from philosophy; but he made theology the queen of the sciences, and employed philosophy and all other sciences to give point and force to the purely Gospel message. If his preaching, in the early part of his ministry, was not so rich and compact in thought as later, it was yet peculiarly fresh, suggestive, and sometimes startling. It did not let the hearers sleep in their pews, and often not on their pillows, till compunction had been followed by confession and amendment.

"His themes awakened new trains of thought, and his manner of treating them, logical, lucid, and illustrative, impressed them strongly upon his auditors. They reflected on his sermons; they talked about them; they debated among themselves the 'hard sayings' which they contained; they searched the Scriptures to see whether these things were so; and after this, the people and the preacher generally came into pretty close agreement.

"In his earnest pressing of man's great sin and God's greater

salvation, on the dead ear of the world and the dull life of the church, youthful fire often kindled his mild blue eye into a magnetic eloquence, and wrought his whole manly figure into a glow of simple but graceful action. This gave to his sermons, at times, the might of a living Gospel."*

The style and scope of my father's sermons varied at different periods of his life. While a pastor, he was eminently practical. After his connection with the theological seminary, he was called to preach at ordinations, installations, and at the funerals of distinguished men. On such occasions he was wont to take high themes, and thus, in later years, he became more known as a doctrinal preacher. His sermon on "The Province of Reason in Matters of Religion," delivered in the course of the Murray Street lectures, New York, won for him great fame.

I had once the pleasure of an interview with a distinguished jurist, who gave me an account of an ordination sermon preached by my father, in 1811 :-

"Mr. Richard Hall, one of the first graduates from the new seminary, had accepted a call from the church and society in New Ipswich, and had requested his theological professor to preach the ordination sermon. I was invited to be present, and went to the place in due season. There was great excitement at the thought

* Rev. E.A. Laurence, D.D.

of hearing the new professor, whose fame had reached that quiet spot. Expectation was on tiptoe; little else was talked of. When he entered the meeting-house and walked up to the pulpit, every eye was upon him. I remember how he looked as well as though it were yesterday, - how stately; tall and erect as a pine in its native forest; diginified, but unassuming. He stood a moment, looking around on the audience as they came crowding in, his handsome face beaming with animation. His dress too, was remarked upon, so neat, so suitable, so exactly in harmony with the man. I can see him as though he now stood before me."

"Do you recollect the subject of his sermon?" I inquired.

"No, I've been trying to think; it's a good many years ago. But I do remember what attention he received. He made a great impression; every eye was filled. The raised expectations were fully realized."

During the latter part of my father's life he was in the habit of dividing his sermon into two parts, preaching one in the morning and the other in the afternoon. His delivery in his later years was more moderate than when he was a pastor. This arose partly from the fact of his lecturing for so many years to those who were taking notes, and from an amiable desire to aid them in every way his power.