the artist; not because with the realist it has a ghoulish delight in horror, or because with the refined sensualist it cunningly aims to give poignancy to pleasure by the memory of pain; but because it divines the secret of our mighty misfortune, and brings with it the sovereign antidote.  The critics declare that Rubens had an absolute delight in representing pain, and they refer us to that artist’s picture of the “Brazen Serpent” in the National Gallery.  The canvas is full of the pain, the fever, the contortions of the wounded and dying; the writhing, gasping crowd is everything, and the supreme instrument of cure, the brazen serpent itself, is small and obscure, no conspicuous feature whatever of the picture.  The manner of the great artist is so far out of keeping with the spirit of the gospel.  Revelation brings out broadly and impressively the darkness of the world, the malady of life, the terror of death, only that it may evermore make conspicuous the uplifted Cross, which, once seen, is death to ever vice, a consolation in every sorrow, a victory over every fear.

LORIMER

THE FALL OF SATAN

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE

George C. Lorimer was born at Edinburgh, Scotland, in 1838.  He was brought up by his stepfather who was associated with the theater, and in this relation he received a dramatic education and had some experience on the stage.  In 1855 he came to the United States, where he joined the Baptist Church and abandoned the theatrical profession.  Later he studied for the Baptist ministry, being ordained in 1859.  He died in 1904.  His direct and dramatic, pulpit style brought him into great popularity in Boston, Chicago, and New York.  At Tremont Temple, Boston, he frequently spoke to overflowing congregations.  He is the author of several well-known books, from one of which the sermon here given is taken as indicating his familiarity with and liking for dramatic literature.  His pulpit manner always retained a flavor of dramatic style that contributed to his popularity.

LORIMER

1838—­1904

THE FALL OF SATAN[1]

[Footnote 1:  Copyright, 1882, by “The Homiletic Monthly,” New York.]

I beheld Satan, as lightning, fall from heaven.—­Luke x., 18.

Whether the “glorious darkness” denoted by the name Satan is an actual personage or a maleficent influence, is of secondary moment as far as the aim and moral of this discourse are concerned.  If the ominous title applies to an abstraction, and if the event so vividly introduced is but a dramatical representation of some phase in the mystery of iniquity, the spiritual inferences are just what they would be were the words respectively descriptive of an angel of sin, and of his utter and terrible overthrow.  I shall not, therefore, tax your patience with discussions on these points, but shall assume as true that literal reading of the text which has commended itself to the ripest among our evangelical scholars.