The comparisons, employed by Binning, have sometimes a degree of quaintness in them which is far from being displeasing, if it does not heighten their effect, as when he observes of that Great Being, whose thoughts are not as our thoughts, that he “speaks in our terms, and _like nurses with their children_, uses our own dialect.”(77) He employs an equally vivid, though somewhat quaint comparison, when he observes, that “the best way to behold the sun, is to look at it _in a pail of water_, and the surest way to know God by, is to take him up in a state of humiliation and condescension, as the sun in the rainbow, in his words and works, which are mirrors of the divine power and goodness, and do reflect upon the hearts and eyes of all men the beams of that uncreated light.”(78) We are offended, however, with the homeliness of such expressions as these, “sin’s ugly face,”(79) “our legs are cut off by sin,”(80) “the legs of the soul,”(81) men opposing God are “like dogs barking at the moon,”(82) “the pull of the Father’s arm,”(83) the Christian is “on speaking terms with God,”(84) “he drives a trade with heaven,”(85) Christ “took up a shop, as it were, in our flesh, that he might work in us.”(86) Nevertheless, an obvious excuse suggests itself to us for the employment, by the author, of these, and such like familiar expressions, which are besides of singularly rare occurrence in his writings. The great object which a Christian minister, like Binning, will constantly propose to himself, when addressing his people, will be, to make himself useful to them. But he knows he cannot be useful, without being intelligible to his audience. He is thus led sometimes to lower his style, as well as to simplify his ideas, that he may reach the understandings and hearts of the youngest and the most illiterate among his hearers. This was evidently Binning’s case. To the least intelligent of those whom he addressed, he sometimes spoke in their own dialect, or, to adopt his own comparison, “like nurses with their children.” In so far as he did this, he followed the maxim of the great German Reformer. _Hi sunt optimi ad populum concionatores_, said Luther, _qui pueriliter, populariter, et quam simplicis sime docent_. “They are the best preachers to the people, who teach them in a plain, familiar, and perfectly simple way.” A preacher, however, who is desirous to make his instructions exceedingly simple, is in danger of bringing his language too low, or of expressing himself in a manner which may not please persons of refined taste. His own good sense will teach him to avoid this if possible. But in the hurry of writing or speaking, he may not always succeed. When this happens, the fault into which he has been betrayed ought to be overlooked by those who are aware, that the business of a minister of Christ is not to interest merely, but to convince, not to afford pleasure, but to enlighten, reclaim, and admonish, “rightly dividing the word of truth.”