SECTION I. Design of this Discourse.

IN presenting the public with this feeble production, I propose, with a just diffi­dence of my own abilities, to lay before them some observations which have occurred to me in the course of my reading, or oratorial compositions, respecting the art of Eloquence, which it is the study of my life to cultivate.

THEY were written at first merely for my own private use. If I have sometimes giv­en a decided opinion, I intreat the reader to remember that I speak to him with freedom yet without presumption, and that I myself [Page 2]am far from considering the result of my observations as laying down rules of the art.

THE general idea which I form, at first view, of the eloquence of the pulpit is this.

SECTION II. A Description of the Eloquence of the Pulpit.

A MAN of sensibility discovers his friend about to take a step contrary to his in­terest or duty. He is desirous of opposing it, but he is afraid of repelling confidence by a hasty contradiction. He gently insin­uates himself into his mind. He does not, at first, oppose. He enquires. He is not regarded. He requires only to be heard, and instantly he states his reasons, and offers convincing arguments with modest diffi­dence.—No answer is returned. He then complains, not of obstinacy, but of silence. He meets all objections and refutes them. Animated by the tender zeal of friendship, he is far from attempting to shine by his wit, or to dishearten by his reproaches. He speaks only the language of affection. At length assured of having arrested the attention of his friend, he uncovers the precipice under his feet, and shews him all its depth, in or­der [Page 3]to alarm his imagination, that weakest, and yet most predominant of our faculties.

HE thus succeeds in moving him. He now descends to entreaty, and gives an unrestrain­ed vent to his sighs and tears.—The work is done; the heart yields, and his friend is ful­ly persuaded. They both embrace; and it is to the eloquence of friendship that reason and virtue are indebted for the honour of victory.

CHRISTIAN ORATORS! behold your model. Let that compassionate man who should be af­fected with sympathetic tenderness in order to convince, be you; and that friend who should be moved in order to be undeceived, be your auditory.

SECTION III. Of the Means of persuading a large Assembly.

IT is only necessary, in fact, for the Orator to keep one man in view amidst the mul­titude that surrounds him; and, excepting those enumerations which require some vari­ety in order to paint the passions, conditions, and characters, he ought merely, while com­posing, to address himself to that one man, [Page 4]whose mistakes he laments, and whose foi­bles he discovers. This man is, to him, as the genius of Socrates^* standing continually at his side, and, by turns, interrogating him, or answering his questions. This is he whom the Orator ought never to lose sight of in writing, till he obtains a conquest over his prepossessions. The arguments which will be sufficiently persuasive to overcome his op­position, will equally controul a large as­sembly.^†

THE Orator will derive farther advantages from a numerous concourse of people, where all the impressions made at the time will con­vey the finest triumphs of the art, by form­ing a species of action and re-action between the auditory and the spe [...]. It is in this sense that Cicero is right in saying that ‘no man can be eloquent without a multi­tude; [Page 5]to hear him^*’ The Auditor came to hear a discourse:—the Orator attacks him; accuses him; makes him abashed; addresses him, at one time, as his confident, at another, as his mediator, or his judge. See with what address he unveils his most concealed pas­sions; with what penetration he shews him his most intimate thoughts: with what en­ergy he annihilates his best framed excuses!—The culprit repents. Profound attention, consternation, confusion, remorse, all an­nounce that the orator has penetrated, in his retired meditations, into the recesses of the heart. Then, provided no ill timed sally of wit follow to blunt the strokes of Christian eloquence, there may be in the church two thousand Auditors, yet there will be but one thought, but one opinion: and all those individuals united form that ideal man whom the Orator had in view while composing his discourse.

SECTION IV. Advantages of an Orator's studying himself.

BUT, you may ask, where is this ideal man, composed of so many different traits, to be found, unless we describe some chimerical being? Where shall we find a phantom like this, singular but not outré, in which every individual may recognize him­self, although it resembles not any one? Where shall we find him?—In your own heart.—Often retire there. Survey all its re­cesses. There, you may trace both the pleas for those passions which you will have to combat, and the source of those false reason­ings which you must point out. To be elo­quent, we must enter within ourselves. The first productions of a young Orator are gen­erally too far fetched. His mind, always on the stretch, is making continual efforts, with­out his ever venturing to commit himself to the simplicity of nature, until experience teach him, that, to arrive at the sublime, it is, in fact, less necessary to elevate his imagination, than to be deeply impressed with his subject.

IF you have studied the sacred books; if you have observed men; if you have attend­ed to writers on morals who serve you instead of Historians; if you have become familiar [Page 7]with the language of Orators; make trial of your Eloquence upon yourself: become, so to speak, the Auditor of your own discours­es; and thus, by anticipating the effect which they ought to produce, you will ea­sily deliniate true characters; you will per­ceive, that, notwithstanding the shades of dif­ference which distinguish them, all men bear an interior resemblance to one another, and that their vices have an uniformity, because they always proceed either from weakness or interest. In a word, your descriptions will not be indeterminate: and the more tho­roughly you shall have examined what passes within your own breast, with more ability will you unfold the hearts of others.

SECTION V. Of Rhetorical Composition.

THESE general principles are insufficient. Let us, then, pass on to particulars, and apply the rules of art to the composi­tion of a discourse.

"IT is an arduous undertaking," says the Roman Orator, ‘to appear before a nume­rous assembly which listens to our discus­sion of the most important subjects, since [Page 8]there is scarcely any one who will not more nicely and rigidly observe the faults than the beauties of our discourses; for whenever we speak in public, judgment is pronounced upon us.^*’

INDEED, besides the natural talents which Eloquence requires, and the want of which application never supplies, every Orator, who wishes to give satisfaction to his Auditory, must join to the instruction which he has de­rived from his preparatory studies, an inti­mate knowledge of the subject which he pro­poses to discuss. He must meditate on it for a considerable time in order to perceive all its principles, and to discover all its relations.^†. It is by this operation, purely intellectual, [Page 9]that we collect, according to the expression of Cicero, "a forest of ideas and subjects,^*," the accumulation of which excites in the Orator a certain eagerness to write, or rather constrains him to deliver by himself the thoughts that occur to his mind; and after­wards renders his matter more copious, and his composition more energetic and perfect. If, at such moments, he would avoid the la­bour of the memory, he should write as fast as he composes.

WHEN the Orator hath once collected the principal proofs, which are like the materials of the building, he quickly makes himself master of his subject; he already discerns the whole of the discourse through those detach­ed ideas which [...] [...]nd work, as soon as he directs them to one point.

THIS disposition costs the Orator little; ‘for the discourse, says Fenelon, is the proposition unfolded, and the proposition is an abstract of the discourse^†’

IN pointing out this method of study, it is my endeavour to conform to it, while, in writing, the different desultory reflections which I have suggested on the principles of [Page 10]Oratory, begin now, of their own accord, to arrange themselves in to proper order.

Do you feel when composing, notwith­standing these precautions, the languor of an exhausted imagination?—Quit your retire­ment.—Converse upon your subject with an intelligent friend. By communicating to him your first thoughts, you will thereby extend the circle of your ideas; and in such mo­ments of enthusiastic fervour, some fortu­nate strokes will escape you which you had searched for in vain in the retirement of the closet.

SECTION VI. Of the Plan of the Discourse.

HAVE you thoroughly investigated the principles, and dived, if I may so speak, to the bottom of your subject? It is here where art begins. It is time to fix your plan.

THIS is generally the part which costs much labour, and which very much influences the success of the discourse.

[Page 11] We may censure the method^* of divisions as a fatal restraint on Eloquence; let us, nev­ertheless, adopt it without fearing to diminish the energy of rhetorical movements, while it directs them with greater exactness. Genius needs to be guided in its progress, and the curb: which preserves it from wandering re­strains, by salutary checks, and renders it the greatest service. It is thus that genius becomes strengthened and increased, when it proceeds under the guidance of reason and judgment^†

[Page 12] THE hearer who knows not whither we are conducting him, soon wanders. The plan is so necessary in order to fix his attention, that it remains no longer a question whether the Orator ought to point it out to him.

IS this plan (as indispensably requisite to be composed with method as to be heard with effect), ill conceived, obscure, and indeter­minate? [Page 13]there will be in the proofs an inevi­table confusion, the subjects will not be clear­ly distinguished, and the arguments, instead of affording each other a mutual support, will interfere^*.

THE more you study your plan, the great­er enlargement you give to your subject. Statements which, at first, seemed sufficiently copious to embrace the substance of a dis­course in all its extent, scarcely form a sub­division fertile enough when you are ac­quainted with the method of expanding your ideas.

FAR from a Christian Orator be those plans which dazzle by a sophistical singularity, a [Page 14]far-fetched antithesis, or a subtle paradox; plans neither sufficiently distinct to be re­tained, nor sufficiently important to be filled up, and which only hold out vain and use­less speculations; plans built either upon undistinguishing epithets, which open no field for argument, or upon pretences more suited to an episode than to the division of a sermon. Let those uniform and corresponding sub­divisions between the two branches of a dis­course be especially discarded, which form a puerile contrast equally unworthy of an art so noble, and a ministry so august.

AVOID such dazzling faults. Give me a plan simple and rational. Your proofs, clear and distinct, will imprint themselves on my memory; and I shall render to your Elo­quence the best of all homages if I retain a lasting remembrance of what I have heard; for the best sermon is that which the hearer most easily recollects^*

SECTION VII. Of Plans drawn from the Text.

EVERY Orator possessed of original ideas, without ever attempting to astonish, will have new and striking plans, merely by attending to the scope of his own genius.

PLANS are frequently singular and whim­sical, especially when they are drawn from the text. This irksome restraint scarcely ever succeeds in moral discourses.

MASSILON hath sketched out the division of his sermon on confession, where we find so many beauties in detail, upon a passage in [Page 16]the Gospel. He takes for his text that verse of St. John,^* There was a multitude of blind, halt, and withered. MASSILON compares the sinners, who surround the confessionals^† to the sick people who were upon the side of the pool of Jerusalem; and he shews the analo­gy of those corporeal infirmities with the most usual abuse which renders confessions of no utility.

There were blind people; defect of know­ledge in the examination. There were halt; insincerity in the confession. There were im­potent folk, withered; want of sorrow in the repentance.

THIS application is doubtless ingenious; but it is too far fetched. The excellent taste of MASSILON only yields this once to the temptation of drawing a very artificial plan from the analysis of his text.^‡

[Page 17] HE has made a happier use of the famous passage, It is finished, in his sermon on the Passion. But this interpretation is not his own, it having been previously unfolded in various monastic pieces.

IT appears to me that the method of adapt­ing the text to the plan can hardly ever be successfully made use of in instructions pure­ly moral; and that it succeeds much better in mysteries^*, in funeral orations and pane­gyrics, where the text will not suit the dis­course unless it makes known the subject, and, at least indirectly, comprehends the di­vision.

IT is easy to find in the holy Scripture verses consonant to the principal idea which we intend to express; and we are always pleased with the Orator for those successful applications which, in some measure, render sacred the plan he hath chosen^†.

SECTION VIII. Of the Progression of the Plan.

WHETHER it be a moral subject that is discussed, or one's talents be exer­cised upon panegyrics or mysteries, it is al­ways necessary to observe a specified progres­sion in the distribution of the plan, in order to impart an increasing force to the points adduced, to give weight to the argument, and energy to the rhetorical movements. It is as rare as it is difficult to render both parts of a sermon equally excellent, because the same resources seldom present themselves to the imagination of the Orator. The lat­ter, however, ought to excel the former. El­oquence always declines when it ceases to rise. It is therefore to the second branch of the division that the most persuasive argu­ments and pathetic sentiments ought to be reserved.

CICERO, whose plan is very distinct in all his Orations, although seldom announced in the exordium, adopts a method very favour­able to the advancement of his proofs, which obliges him to be surpassing himself con­tinually by fresh efforts in proportion as he proceeds in the difficulties of his subject.

[Page 19] OPEN his Orations. He at once denies the fact which is opposed to him; and after­wards he proves, that, by taking its truth for granted, nothing could thereby be concluded against his client.

I SHALL only quote here two striking ex­amples of this excellent method.

In defending Archais who had been his preceptor, and of whom he always speaks with the most lively gratitude, Cicero thus divides his Oration; ‘I shall prove that Ar­chais is a Roman citizen; and that, if he were not, he would be very deserving to be one.’

THE plan of the Oration in favour of Milo is no less forcible. "Milo," says he, ‘hath not slain Clodius; if he had slain him, he would have done well.’ The mind of man cannot reason with more per­spicuity and energy.

NOR are we to conclude that Cicero pro­ceeds thus accidentally on some particular occasions. In his "Oratorial divisions," in that charming dialogue where this great man submits to an examination upon this art, by answering all the questions which his son puts to him upon Eloquence, Cicero establishes, as a fixed rule, this manner of dividing the discourse. He says. ‘It is thus you ought [Page 20]to reason; you must either deny the fact that meets you, or if you admit it, you must prove that the consequences which your opponent has drawn do not result from it^*.’ I am aware how seldom it is that we can follow this course in our pulpits, where the subjects discussed are not always doubtful, but the more we imitate this me­thod, the nearer we shall arrive at perfec­tion.

SECTION IX. Of the Injury Wit does to Eloquence.

TO all those rules which art furnishes for conducting the plan of a discourse, we proceed to subjoin a general rule from which Orators, and especially Christian Orators, ought never to swerve.

WHEN such begin their career, the zeal for the salvation of souls which animates them, doth not render them always unmindful of the glory which follows great success. A blind desire to shine and to please is often at [Page 21]the expence of that substantial honour which might be obtained, were they to give them­selves up to the pure emotions of piety which so well agree with the sensibility necessary to Eloquence.

IT is unquestionably to be wished that he who devotes himself to the arduous labours which preaching requires, should be wholly ambitious to render himself useful to the cause of religion. To such, reputation can never be a sufficient recompence: But if mo­tives so pure have not sufficient sway in your breast, calculate, at least, the advantages of self-love, and you may perceive how insepa­rably connected these are with the success of your ministry.

IS it on your own account that you preach? Is it for you that religion assembles her vota­ries in a temple? You ought not to indulge so presumptuous a thought. However, I on­ly consider you as an Orator. Tell me then; what is this you call Eloquence? Is it the wretched trade of imitating that criminal, mentioned by a poet in his satires, who ‘balanced his crimes before his judges with antitheses^*?’ Is it the puerile secret of forming jejune quibbles? of rounding peri­ods? [Page 22]of tormenting oneself by tedious stu­dies in order to reduce sacred instruction in­to a vain amusement? is this, then, the idea which you have conceived of that divine art which disdains frivolous ornaments, which sways the most numerous assemblies, and which bestows on a single man the most per­sonal and majestic of all sovereignties? Are you in quest of glory?—You sly from it. Wit alone is never sublime; and it is only by the vehemence of the passions that you can become Eloquent^*.

[Page 23] RECKON up all the illustrious Orators. Will you find among them conceited, subtle, or epigrammatic writers? No; these immor­tal men confined their attempts to affect and [Page 24]persuade; and their having been always sim­ple is that which will always render them great.—How is this? you wish to proceed in their footsteps, and you stoop to the degra­ding pretensions of a Rhetorician? And you appear in the form of a mendicant soliciting commendations before those very men who ought to tremble at your feet! Recover from this ignominy. Be eloquent by real, in [...]ead of being a more declaimer through vanity. And be assured that the most certain method of preaching well for yourself, is to preach usefully to others.

SECTION X. Of the Exordium.

WIT pleases in an epigram or a song, but it never produces great effects in a numerous assembly. True Eloquence proscribes all those thoughts which are too refined or far-fetched to strike the people; for, indeed, what else is it than a brilliant stroke affecting and enlivening a multitude, which, at first view, merely presents to the Orator in extended and motionless heap, and which so far from participating the sen­sations of him who speaks, scarcely grants him a cold and strict attention?

[Page 25] THE beginning of a discourse ought to be simple and modest, in order to conciliate to the preacher the good will of his auditory. The Exordium, nevertheless, deserves to be studied with the greatest care. It is proper to confine oneself in this part to the unfold­ing of a single idea which may include the whole extent of the subject. It is here where indications of the plan should be quickly made known; where the leading aim of the discourse should be pointed out with­out filling up too much room; where lucid principles should discover the deep reflection of the Orator who is capable of obtaining, at once, a commanding influence, over all his hearers^*.

SUCH is the art of BOSSUET, when, that he might strike the mind forcibly, he says, at the beginning of his funeral Oration for [Page 26]Henrietta of England, that he will ‘in one single woe deplore all the calamities, and in one single death, shew the death and the emptiness of all human grandeur.’

WHATEVER doth not lead towards the principal points of a sermon is useless in an Exordium. Let us, therefore, in this part of the discourse, avoid subtle reflections, quota­tions, essays, common places, and even tropes and metaphors.

"WE must not then," says the Roman Orator, ‘depart from the familiar sense of words, lest our discourse appear prepared with too much labour.’ ^* Let us proceed to our design by the shortest course. Every thing here ought to be adapted to the subject, since, according to the expression of Cicero, "The Exordium is only its porch."^† Let us not imitate those prolix rhetoricians, who, instead of entering at once on their subject, turn and turn again on all sides, leaving their hearers uncertain of the matter which they are going to handle.

THE Exordium doth not properly begin till the object and design of the discourse are discovered.

SECTION XI. Of the Explication of the Subject.

NO sooner is the subject stated, than we must hasten to define it. This precau­tion is to be regarded especially in treating on metaphysical subjects, such as Providence, Truth, Conscience, &c. He is sure to wan­der in vague speculations who neglects to be guided, at first, by clear ideas. It is certainly hazardous to rise too much in those prepara­tory parts; and experience every day teaches us to be distrustful of eloquent introductions.

IT is, nevertheless, necessary strongly to fix the attention of a wandering congregation; and I do not see that we violate the rules of art in surprising the hearer by an unexpected stroke which may draw him off from his own thoughts, provided that this sudden emotion do not beguile his expectation, and that the Orator always proceeds in the enlargement of his subject.

"I WANT discourses," says MONTAIGNE, ‘which make an immediate attack upon the strong hold of doubt; I desire good and solid arguments at first sight.’ Montaigne is right. Nothing is more important and difficult than to become masters of our own [Page 28]Auditory, and to enter upon our subject with a movement that may affect them.

SENECA opens the first scene of his tragedy of Troy with a sublime soliloquy; and three verses suffice for his immediately interesting every heart. We behold, at a distance, the city of Troy consumed by the flames; and Hecuba, in chains, alone upon the theatre, pronounces, with a sigh, these eloquent ex­pressions, ‘Ye princes who confide in your power, ye who rule over a numerous court, ye who dread not the inconstant favour of the gods, and ye who indulge yourselves in the soothing repose of prosperity, behold Hecuba, behold Troy!’ ^{* †} Who does not then retire within himself, and seriously re­flect upon the dangers of his fate? It is thus that a great Orator should engage the heart. It is thus he should enrich the beginning of his discourse, provided that the sequel deserve also to be heard after the Auditors have been elevated to such a pitch.

SECTION XII. Of the Production of Ideas.

IT is this continual propagation of great ideas, by which they are mutually enliv­ened; it is this art of incessantly advancing in composition that gives strength to Elo­quence, rapidity to discourse, and the whole interest of dialogue to an uninterrupted suc­cession of ideas, which, were they disjointed, would produce no effect, but languish and die.

THE progression which imparts increasing strength to each period is the natural repre­sentation of those transports of soul which should enliven throughout the compositions of the Orator. Hence it follows, that an eloquent writer can only be formed by a fer­tility and vastness of thought.

DETACHED phrases, superfluous passages, witty comparisons, unprofitable definitions, the affectation of shining or surprising at eve­ry word the extravagance of genius, these do not enrich but rather impoverish a writer as often as they interrupt his progress.^*

[Page 30] LET, then, the Orator avoid, as most dan­gerous rocks, those ensnaring sallies which would diminish the impetuosity of his ardour. Without pity on his productions, and with­out ever regretting the apparent sacrifices which it will cost him, let him, as he proceeds, retrench this heap of flourishes which stifles his Eloquence instead of embellishing it, and which hurries him on forcibly, rather than gracefully, towards his main design.

IF the hearer find himself continually where he was; if he discover the enlargement, the return of the same ideas, or the playing upon words, he is no more transported with the admiration of a vehement Orator; it is a florid declaimer whom he hears without effect. He does not even hear him long. He also, like the Orator, makes idle reflections on every word. He is continually losing sight of the thread of the discourse amidst those di­gressions [Page 31]of the Rhetorician who is aiming to shine while his subject languishes. At length, tired with this redundancy of words, he feels his exhausted attention ready to expire with every breath.

MISTAKEN man of genius! wert thou ac­quainted with the true method of attaining Eloquence, instead of disgusting thy hearer with thy insipid antitheses, his attention would not be at liberty to be diverted. He would partake of your emotions. He would become all that you mean to describe. He would imagine that he himself could discover the plain and striking arguments which you laid before him, and, in some measure, compose your discourse along with you. His satisfac­tion would be at its height, as would be your glory. And you would find that it is the delight of him who hears, which always en­sures the triumph of him who speaks.^*

[Page 32] "A GOOD judge of the art of Oratory," says CICERO, ‘need not hear an Orator in order to judge of his merits. He passes on; he observes the judges conversing to­gether—restless on their seats—frequently enquiring in the middle of a pleading whether it be not time to close the trial and break up the court. This is enough for him. He perceives at once that the cause is not pleaded by a man of Eloquence who can command every mind as a musician can produce harmonious strains by touch­ing the strings of his instrument.’

[Page 33] ‘BUT if he perceive, as he passes on, the same judges attentive—their heads erect—their looks engaged, and apparently struck with admiration of the speaker, as a bird is charmed with the sweet sounds of music: if, above all, he discover them most pas­sionately affected by pity, by hatred, or by any strong emotion of the heart; if, I say, as he passes on, he perceive these effects, though he hear not a word of the Oration, he immediately concludes that a real Ora­tor is in this assembly, and that the work of Eloquence proceeds, or rather is already accomplished.’ ^*

SECTION XIII. Of the Eloquence of the Bar.

THE BAR is an excellent school for im­parting that rhetorical propagation to ideas, which is one of the most difficult se­crets in the art of Oratory.

[Page 34] I HAVE attended the Courts: I have heard some eloquent Advocates, and a great num­ber of those [...]ippan [...] Orators, whom Cicero styles ‘not Orators, but practitioners of a great volubility of speech.’ ^*

I ACKNOWLEDGE, however, that I have of­ten admired Advocates indifferent enough in other respects, who possessed, in the highest degree, the valuable talent of arranging their proofs methodically, and of imparting pro­gressive energy to the reasoning. This kind of merit, as usual at the Bar as it is scarce every where else, is also much less remarked there; whether it be reserved to gentlemen of the profession to be thoroughly sensible of its value in the opening of a cause; or whether it be that arguments becoming more gradually forcible in juridical discussions, an adherence to the natural order is sufficient for the pleader to state them to advantage.^†

[Page 35] THERE are, at this time, the most distin­guished talents at the Bar: but there hath been a complaint for a long while, and just­ly, of a sad declension.^*

THE Chancellor D'A [...]U [...]EAU, who, in discharging the functions of his public em­ployment, hath acquired the greatest renown in this age, is universally esteemed a man of extraordinary abilities; a profound lawyer; a correct and elegant writer. But I am not aware that the public opinion allows him the same superiority as an Orator, although he hath handled many subjects worthy of the highest strains of Eloquence. This illustri­ous magistrate was not as yet possessed of all the strength of his genius when he employed himself on subjects of a rhetorical nature; and it would be doing him injustice to judge of his talents by a small number of discourses which were the earliest productions of his youth.

ADVOCATES, in general, do not take suffi­cient pains with their causes. They are more [Page 36]copious than vehement; and many of them sacrifice glory to vanity, by lengthening out their pleadings, that they may engross more attention from a public audience.

BUT it is not enough to shew oneself; it is necessary to be held in admiration when one wishes to become celebrated.

NOR ought it to be concealed, that literary men, who are accustomed to write with more care, have a marked superiority over Advo­cates, whenever they assume their profession.

Neither LE MAITRE, nor PATRU^* occupy the first place at the French Bar. This hon­our is reserved for PELISSON,^† who hath de­served immortal fame by composing his me­moirs for the superintendant Fouquet: but [Page 37]above all for ARNAUD, who hath, himself, surpassed all Advocates in "The apology for the English Catholics," accused of a conspira­cy against King Charles II. in 1678. Read that eloquent discussion. What tears will not Arnaud draw from you upon the death of the virtuous Viscount Stafford! An Ora­tor, without attempting to be one, he does not discover any design to affect you; but, by the simple recital of facts, merely by log­ical arguments, by the depositions of the wit­nesses upon which the Catholics were con­demned, he irrefragably proves their inno­cence, he moves your compassion for the fate of the unfortunate persons, whose misfortunes he recounts, and he stamps with perpetual infamy the memory of the famous Oates, who invented that absurd calumny.^* Never was moral demonstration carried farther. Nor ought we to forget that in this work Arnaud justifies the Jesuits whom he hated, and de­fends their cause with a zeal as noble as af­fecting.

[Page 38] IT were doubtless to be wished, that this celebrated Arnaud had always selected sub­jects equally proper for the display of his tal­ents. He was only in his twenty-eighth year when Des Cartes consulted him on his "Phy­sical Meditations," and was astonished at the depth of his genius. He was born with the spirit of a warrior. The works he composed were chiefly polemical. But he deserves to be ranked amongst the most eloquent men of [...] was a most profound grammarian, and that he equalled Ma [...]bra [...] in metaphysics. Boileau esteemed him as [...] or [...]e in poetry; he remained constantly at­tached to him notwithstanding his long mis­fortunes; and afterwards rendered homage [...] the merit of this illustrious exile, in his epi­taph for Bourdaloue, whom he styles, "after Arnaud, the most illustrious man in France."^*

SECTION XIV. Of Cicero.

IT would be a vain attempt to excuse the distance so perceptible between the Ad­vocates of the French Bar, and the Orators of the Roman Senate, by suggesting the differ­ent interests which were entrusted to them. Cicero, I know, has sometimes had the glory of being styled "the Defender of the Repub­lic:" But did he not often undertake causes of less importance? and are not most of his Orations devoted to the affairs of his fellow-citizens? This great man wanted not an ex­traordinary Auditory in order to display all the riches of his genius. He was more elo­quent when he pleaded before the Roman people, than when he spoke in the presence of Caesar.

HIS Oration for Ligarius is written in a charming style; but it is not considered as the most eloquent of his works. Cicero re­quests the life of Ligarius of an usurper, as if he were imploring the clemency of a lawful sovereign. The commendations which he lavishes on Caesar in the ingenious conclusion of his speech, seem to justify the reproaches which he received from the stoic Brutus, after [Page 40]the death of the Dictator, in that famous let­ter where Brutus accuses him of flattering Oc­tavius, and which is justly ranked amongst the chief productions of antiquity.

IT is in his Orations against Verres; against Cataline; in his second Philippic; in the conclusions of all his speeches; it is in his treatises of "the Orator," and "of illustrious Orators," that we find the Eloquence of Cicero. All his writings ought to be the manual of Christian Orators.

THE rapidity with which he composed his immortal discourses, notwithstanding the mul­tiplicity and importance of the concerns which oppressed him, did not prevent him from be­stowing on his style a perfection so uncom­mon, that it is as easy to understand his Ora­tions, as it is difficult, and perhaps even im­possible to translate them well. His example evidently proves that our Advocates should not justify their inattention to Elocution by the inevitable avocations of their profession.

IT was during a very short interval, and amidst the agitation of a civil war, that Cicero published his famous Orations against Marc Antony, which he called his Philippics.

WE are at a loss to conceive how he could retain sufficient freedom of mind, after the death of Caesar, and in the sixty-fourth and last year of his life, to compose those fourteen [Page 41]discourses with which he finished his rhetor­ical career.

BRUTUS, whose taste was as severe as were his morals, openly disapproved, in the writ­ings of the Roman Orator, of this inexhausti­ble exuberance, this copiousness, always ele­gant and harmonious, which sometimes, per­haps, enervated his vigour; and the told Cicero himself that his Eloquence wanted reins. Posterity hath thought with Brutus.^*

[Page 42] IT is not, surely, to be ascribed to any principle of taste, but to the fear of displeas­ing Augustus, who had shamefully sacrificed his benefactor Cicero, that Virgil and Horace were cowardly enough never to make mention in their poetry of this Orator, as celebrated in the present day as is Rome itself. Virgil, especially, ought not to have forgotten him when celebrating the privileges of the Roman people. But the assassin of Cicero was upon the throne; and the courtly poet did not scruple to make a sacrifice to Augustus of one of the most glorious monuments of his coun­try, in yielding the palm of Eloquence to the Orators of Greece, in preference to the Con­sul [Page 43]of Rome. Ora [...]u [...] (alii) nielius causas, &c. ^*

SECTION XV. Of Demosthenes.

NOTWITHSTANDING the decision of Vir­gil, learned men have not passed judg­ment unanimously between Cicero and De­mosthenes. These two Orators hold nearly an equal rank.^†

[Page 44] [...] hath an unquestionable advantage over his rival in literature and philosophy, but he hath not wrested from him the sceptre of Eloquence. He himself regarded Demost­henes [Page 45]as his master. He praised him with all the enthusiasm of the liveliest imagination. He translated his works; and, if his transla­tions had reached us, it is probable, that [Page 46]Cicero would have placed himself forever below Demosthenes.

IT is the irrefragable force of the reasoning; it is the irresistible rapidity of the rhetorical movements, which characterize the Eloquence of the Athenian Orator. When he writes, it is to give strength, energy, and vehemence to his thoughts. He speaks, not as an elegant writer who wishes to be admired, but as a passionate man tormented by truth; as a citi­zen [Page 47]menaced with the greatest misfortunes, and who can no longer contain the transports of his indignation against the enemies of his country.

HE is the champion of Reason. He de­fends her with all the strength of his genius: and the rostrum where he speaks becomes the place of combat. He at once conquers his auditors, his adversaries, his judges. He does not seem to endeavour to move you: hear him, however, and he shall cause you to weep upon reflection. He overwhelms his fellow citizens with reproaches; but, then, these are only the interpreters of their own remorse.

DOTH he refute an argument? He does not discuss it. He proposes a single question for the whole answer, and the objection no longer appears.

DOTH he wish to stir up the Athenians against Philip? It is no more an Orator who speaks: it is a General; it is a King; it is a Prophet; it is the Tutelar Angel of his country. And when he threatens his fellow citizens with slavery, we think that we hear from a distance the noise approaching of the rattling chains which the tyrant is bringing them.

THE Philippics of Demosthenes, and his famous Oration "pro corona," in favour of [Page 48]Ctesiphon, are justly admired; but I appre­hend that the learned, and Christian Orators read but little of his other works; his dis­course on the peace, his first and second Olynthiac, his Oration of Chersonesus, and many other masterly productions truly wor­thy of his genius. In these too much for­gotten writings, and which seem to be of no service to the reputation of Demosthenes, we might be able to find sufficient claims to jus­tify his fame, were all his other productions of Oratory unknown.

IT is enough to repeat here one single pas­sage.—

THE enemies of Demosthenes, (certain wri­ters without talents, Aeschines excepted, who presumed to consider themselves as his rivals because they set themselves up for Orators in Athens,) accused him of seeking, in his dis­courses, rather his own reputation, than the public good. This great man, abused for a long while without complaining, deigned at length to confute their clamours in the pre­sence of all the Athenian people. He thus addresses them in his Oration of Chersonesus:

‘I AM so far from regarding all those con­temptible Orators as citizens deserving of their country, that, should any one say to me this moment, And thou, Demosthenes, what services hast thou rendered to the[Page 49]Republic? I would neither, O Athenians, speak of the expenses I have incurred on behalf of my fellow-citizens in the dis­charge of my employments, nor of the cap­tives whom I have redeemed, nor of the gifts which I have presented to the city, nor of all the monuments which will one day testify my zeal for my country; but this is the answer I should make: My con­duct hath always been the reverse of the maxims of these Orators. I could, doubt­less, have followed their example, and like them, have flattered you. But I have al­ways sacrificed my personal advantage, my ambition, and even the desire of pleasing you. I have addressed you so as to rank myself below other citizens, and to exalt you above the other people of Greece. O Athenians! permit me now to bear this witness of myself. No; I never indulged the expectation of attaining the first place among you, were I even to make you the lowest of mankind.’

IT is to those enemies, and to the sad ne­cessity of crushing them with all the weight of his genius and virtue, that Demosthenes is indebted for this sublime passage, one of the finest strokes of his Eloquence.

IT would be very easy to multiply similar quotations, when speaking of this Orator. [Page 50]But it, is not my design to prevent public speakers from reading him. I invite them, on the contrary, to learn him by heart; and to transfuse his energy, his vigour, and his colouring, into their own Eloquence.^*

SECTION XVI. Of Bossuet.

AT the very name of Demosthenes, my admiration reflects on the most eloquent man of my nation, who bears the greatest refemblance to him of all his competitors. [Page 52]Such, whom we may consider as one of those Orators, whom Cicero styles "vehement, and, in some measure, tragical."^* Such, who, transported with an empassioned Eloquence, rises superior to rules and models, and ad­vances the art to all the elevation of his pe­culiar genius.... An Orat [...], who ascends to the height of heaven, whence he descends with his expanded mind to sit upon the side of a tomb, and to pull down the pride of Princes and Kings before God, who, after distinguishing them for a moment upon earth, confounds them forever in the common dust. [Page 53]A Writer, who frames for himself a language as new as his ideas; who imparts to his ex­pressions such a character of energy, that the reader supposes he hears him; and gives to his style such a majesty of elocution, that the idiom he makes use of seems to transform and improve itself under his pen.... An Apostle, who instructs the world, whilst celebrating the most illustrious of his contemporaries, making them become, even from their graves, the Preachers of all ages; who, in bewail [...]ng the death of one single man, clearly shews the vanity of mankind. An Orator, in fine, whose discourses, animated by a most glowing and original genius, are classic works in Elo­quence, which ought to be perpetually studi­ed; just as in the arts, one goes to Rome to form his taste by the master-pieces of Ra­phael and Michael Angelo.

BEHOLD the French Demosthenes! Behold [...]o [...]uet!

WE may apply to his rhetorical writings the panegyric which Quintilian ascribed to the Jupiter of Phidias, when he said, that this statue had encreased the religion of the people.

[...]OSSUET hath been, in Europe, the real [...]ormer of the Eloquence of the Pulpit. Lin­gendes, who might have laid claim to a share [Page 54]of this honour, wrote his sermons in Latin, and consequently, was not of more use than Cicero to the preachers of the age of Louis XIV.

BOSSUET fixed the boundaries of the art in the funeral Oration: and it is a singularity worthy of being remarked, that, at the age of fifty-eight, he finished his rhetorical labours by his master-piece, the panegyric of the great Condé.

I SHALL say nothing here of his sermons. I have borne sufficient testimony elsewhere^* [Page 55]to the lively admiration which they have ex­cited in me; and I take pleasure in renewing the declaration, because I love always to re­vive the homage which is due to genius.

BEFORE him, Maillard, Menot, Corenus, Valladier, and a multitude of other French Preachers, whose names, at this day, are ob­scure or ridiculous, had disgraced the Elo­quence of the Pulpit by a wretched style, a barbarous erudition, a preposterous mytholo­ [...]y, low buffoonery, and, even sometimes, by obscene details.

BOSSUET appeared. Accustomed to find himself engaged in controversy, he was, per­haps, indebted to the critical observations of the Protestants, who narrowly watched him, for that elovated strain, that strength of rea­soning, that union of Logic and Eloquence, which distinguished all his discourses.

[Page 56] Do you w [...]sh to know the revolution which he affected in the pulpit? Open the writings of Bourdaloue, of whom he was the forerun­ner and model. Yes; Bossuet never appears to me greater than when I read Bourdaloue, who, twenty years afterwards, entered this new road, where he had the skill to shew himself an original by imitating him, and in which he surpassed him in labour, without being capable of equalling him in genius.

Do you wish to select in more remote times another object of comparison? Place Bossuet among the most illustrious Orators of the fixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Com­pare the discourse which he delivered on the day of the opening of the famous Assembly of the Clergy in 1682,^* with the sermon which the Bishop of Bitonto preached the third Sunday in Advent, 1546, at the open­ing of the Council of Trent. You would imagine that between the Bishop of Bitonto, and the Bishop of Meaux, there had elapsed an interval of many ages. There is not, how­ever, the difference of a century and a half. But these two periods, so near to each other, [Page 57]are divided by all the distance which removes the grossest barbarism from the most refined taste.

WE have in the edition of the Council of Trent, published at Louvaine in 1567, all the sermons which were delivered in the different sessions, before that Assembly. There are some funeral Orations, and more than thirty other discourses, which were preached by the Bishops, by the Doctors of the Faculty of Paris, or by the Monks. That of the Bishop of Bitonto is the only one which hath retained some celebrity; and as it is evidently the best of all, it is by this piece that we are enabled to judge of the Eloquence of the sixteenth century.

THIS sermon contains some beauties of Oratory; but it is written without method, or taste, and sometimes presents an indecent mixture of sacred scripture and heathen my­thology.

THE Bishop of Bitonto says, ‘That nature hath given us two hands, two eyes, and two feet, in order that man may be a coun­cil in epitome whilst making use of all his members together; for one hand washes the other, and one foot sustains the other.’ ^{* †}

[Page 58] We might repeat twenty examples of this sort from the same discourse. But there is need of one quotation only, in order to ap­preciate the merit of an Orator, when we make it from Bossuet.

THE ever memorable sermon of the Bishop of Meaux upon "the unity of the church" is not thus written.

SECTION XVII. Of Interrogation.

TIME, that destroyer of ill-founded repu­tation, adds, every day, fresh lustre to the glory of Bossuet. I observe, with plea­sure, that this great Orator, whose merit hath been for some time attacked among us, is more warmly and universally admired since there has been a renunciation of the depraved taste of the Eloquence of words. The vehe­mence [Page 59]which distinguishes him, as it does Demosthenes, appears to me frequently de­rived from accumulated interrogations which are equally familiar to each of them.

INDEED, of all the figures of Oratory, Interrogation is the most overwhelming and rapid. If it be employed in unfolding the principles on which the discourse is establish­ed, it spreads over it an inevitable obscurity, and a species of declamation, which disgusts persons of good taste. It is after a clear ex­planation of the obligations of the Christian Religion, that particular details of its moral injunctions, enlivened by this impetuous movement, forcibly strike the hearers, add remorse to conviction, and, if I may so speak, arm law against conscience. It is by earnest and repeated interrogations, that the Orator proves and attacks, accuses and answers, doubts and affirms, affects and instructs. Is there, in Eloquence, a surer way to agitate the human heart, than by such questions fol­lowing one another in rapid succession, to which there is no need of waiting for an an­swer, because that is unavoidable and uni­form? Can we better manage the pride of the guilty, than by sparing him the disgrace of a direct reproach, at the very time we are in­forming him of his foibles or his vices? Or say—how can we impart more force to truth, [Page 60]more weight to reason, than by confining ourselves to the simple privilege of interro­gating the wicked? By what means can such an one elude the Orator, who shuts up all the avenues by which he endeavours to escape from himself? An Orator, who makes choice of him as judge, as sole judge, as the private judge, of the recesses of his own heart only, which he cannot mistake? What answer will he return, if the general questions, which be himself converts into so many personal accu­sations, rush upon him, and gather strength? If, to these evidences overwhelming to the sinner, there follows a sublime and striking representation, which terrifies his imagina­tion, and causes his thoughts to be greatly confused? Thus resembling a solemn sen­tence, which the judge proceeds to pronounce upon the guilty, after having first confound­ed him.

SUCH is that sublime and famous Apostro­phe, which MASSILLON addresses to the Su­preme Being, in his sermon, "on the small number of the elect:" "O God! where are thine elect?" These words, so plain, spread consternation. Each hearer places himself in that list of reprobates which had preceded this passage. He dares no more reply to the Orator, who had, again and again, demanded of him, if he were of the number of the right­eous, [Page 61]whose names alone shall be written in the book of life; but, entering with conster­nation into his own heart, which speaks suf­ficiently plain by its compunctions, he then imagines that he hears the irrevocable decree of his reprobation.

THE eloquent RACINE almost always pro­ceeds by interrogations, in impassioned scenes; and this figure, which gives such an ardent rapidity to his style, animates and warms all his arguments, none of which are ever cold, slat, or abstracted.

THE success of this oratorical figure is in­fallible in Eloquence, when it is properly em­ployed. It is the natural language of a soul deeply affected. If you wish to see an ex­ample of it, a famous one now occurs to me.

EVERY one knows that sine introduction of CICERO, who, unable to express the lively indignation of his patriotic zeal, rushes abrupt­ly upon Cataline, and instantly overwhelms him by the vehemence of his interrogations. ‘How long, O Cataline, wilt thou abuse our patience? How long shall we continue to be the objects of thy fury? Whither will thy headstrong audacity impel thee? Per­ceivest thou not the constant watch in the city, the apprehensions of the people, the enraged countenances of the Senators, who have discovered thy pernicious designs? [Page 62]Thinkest thou that I know not what passed the last night in the house of Lecca? Hast thou not made a distribution of employ­ments, and parcelled out all Italy with thy accomplices?’ ^{* †}

HERE is Eloquence! here is nature! It it by his making use of such language, that the Orator dives to the very bottom of the human heart.^‡

SECTION XVIII. Of the Eloquence of M. Bridaine.

IF there be extant among us any traces of this ancient and energetic Eloquence, which is nothing else than the original voice of nature, it is among the missionaries, and in [Page 64]the country, where we must seek for exam­ples. There, some apostolic men, endowed with a vigorous and bold imagination, know no other success than conversions, no other applauses than tears.^* Often devoid of taste, they descend, I confess, to burlesque details; but they forcibly strike the senses; their threatenings impress terror; the people listen to them with profit: many among them have sublime strokes; and an Orator doth not hear them without advantage, when he is skilful in observing the important effects of his art.

M. BRIDAINE, the man, who, in the pre­sent age, is the most justly celebrated in this way, was born with a popular Eloquence, abounding with metaphorical and striking [Page 65]expressions; and no one ever possessed, in a higher degree, the rare talent of arresting the attention of an assembled multitude.

HE had so fine a voice, as to render cradi­ble all the wonders which history relates of the declamation of the ancients, for he was as easily heard by ten thousand people in the open fields, as if he had spoken under the most resounding arch. In all he said, there were observable unexpected strokes of Orato­ry, the boldest metaphors, thoughts sudden, new, and striking, all the marks of a rich im­agination, some passages, sometimes even whole discourses, composed with care, and written with an equal combination of taste and animation.

I REMEMBER to have heard him deliver the introduction of the first discourse which he preached in the Church of St. Sulpice, in 1751. The first company in the capital went, out of curiosity, to hear him.

BRIDAINE perceived among the congrega­tion many Bishops, and persons of the first rank, as well as a vast number of ecclesiastics. This sight, far from intimidating, suggested to him the following exordium, so far at least as my memory remains, of a passage, with which I have been always sensibly affected, and, which, perhaps, will not appear unwor­thy of Bossuet, or Demosthenes.

[Page 66] ‘AT the sight of an Auditory so new to me, methinks, my brethren, I ought only to open my mouth to solicit your favour in behalf of a poor missionary, destitute of all those talents which you require of those who speak to you about your salvation. Nevertheless, I experience to-day, a feeling very different. And, if I am cast down, suspect me not of being depressed by the wretchech uncasiness occasioned by vanity, as if I were accustomed to preach myself. God forbid that a minister of Heaven should ever suppose he needed an excuse with you! for, whoever ye may be, ye are all of you sinners like myself. It is before your God and mine, that I feel myself impelled at this moment to strike my breast. UNTIL now, I have proclaimed the right­eousness of the Most High in Churches covered with thatch. I have preached the rigours of penance to the unfortunate who wanted bread. I have declared to the good inhabitants of the country the most awful truths of my religion. Unhappy man! what have I done? I have made sad the poor, the best friends of my God! I have conveyed terror and grief into those simple and honest souls, whom I ought to have pitied and consoled! It is here only where I behold the great, the rich, the op­pressors [Page 67]of suffering humanity, or sinners daring and hardened. Ah! it is here only where the sacred word should be made to resound with all the force of its thunder; and where I should place with me in this pulpit, on the one side, Death which threat­ens you, and on the other, my great God, who is about to judge you. I hold to-day your sentence in my hand. Tremble then in my presence, ye proud and disdainful men who hear me! The necessity of salva­tion, the certainty of death, the uncertainty of that hour, so terrifying to you, final im­penitence, the just judgment, the number of the elect, hell, and above all, Eternity! Eter­nity! These are the subjects upon which I am come to discourse, and which I ought, doubt­less, to have reserved for you alone. Ah! what need have I of your commendation, which, perhaps, might damn me, without saving you? God is about to rouse you, while his unworthy minister speaks to you! for I have had a long experience of his mercies. Penetrated with a detestation of your past iniquities, and shedding tears of sorrow and repentance, you will, then, throw your­selves into my arms; and, by this remorse, you will prove that I am sufficiently elo­quent.’

WHO doth not, by this time, perceive, how much this Eloquence excels the frigid [Page 68]and miserable pretensions of modern wit? In apologizing, so to speak, for having preached upon hell in the villages, Bridaine boldly assumed all the authority over his auditory, which belonged to his office, and prepared their hearts for the awful truths, which he intended to announce. This Exordium alone gave him a right to say every thing. Many persons still remember his sermon on Eterni­ty, and the terror which he diffused through­out the congregation, whilst blending, as was usual with him, quaint comparisons with sub­lime transports, he exclaimed, ‘What foun­dation, my brethren, have you for suppos­ing your dying day at such a distance? Is it your youth? 'Yes', you answer; 'I am, as yet, but twenty, but thirty'. Sirs, it is not you who are twenty or thirty years old, it is death which has already advanced twenty or thirty years towards you. Ob­serve: Eternity approaches. Do you know what this Eternity is? It is a pendulum whose vibration says continually, Always —Ever—Ever—Always—Always! In the mean while, a reprobate cries out, 'What o'clock is it? And the same voice answers, Eternity.’

THE thundering voice of Bridaine, added, on those occasions, a new energy to his Elo­quence; and the Auditory, familiarized to [Page 69]his language and ideas, appeared at such times in dismay before him. The profound silence which reigned in the congregation, especially when he preached until the ap­proach of night, was interrupted from time to time, and in a manner very perceptible, by the long and mournful sighs, which proceed­ed, all at once, from every corner of the Church where he was speaking.

ORATORS! ye who are wholly engrossed about your own reputation, fall at the feet of this apostolic man, and learn from a mission­ary, wherein true Eloquence consists. The people! the people! they are the, principal, and, perhaps, the best judges of your talents.^*

SECTION XIX. Of the Choice of Subjects.

THE success of this sort of popular Elo­quence is infallible, when there is unit­ed a voice sufficiently strong to maintain its [Page 70]vehemence, and a taste sufficiently delicate to avoid its eccentricities.

HENCE we draw this conclusion, that it is a great error to discard, from the gospel minis­try, those awful subjects, which enkindle the imagination of the Preacher, while they tend to arouse every conscience. Besides that re­ligion is founded upon those awful truths, which its ministers ought not to conceal, and which men are afraid to hear, in proportion to their tendency to produce a conversion. I know no subjects which give a more ample scope to the art of Oratory.

THE Christian Orator, who is above enrich­ing his compositions with them, renounces his greatest advantages.

BUT, while we present these objects of ter­ror, we cannot be too strongly convinced that it would be better to leave sinners in supine­ness than to drive them to despair; that this is not so much to reach the end as to exceed all bounds; that the gospel is a law of love, and not a code of wrath; that men are nat­urally so weak that their faults ought to excite more compassion than anger; that a Preacher is not the minister of the vengeance of Heaven, but the dispenser of its mercies; that instead of repelling sinners, it is proper to affect, to win, to reclaim them through fear to love; and to attemper the rigour of the law with the [Page 71]attraction of the rewards of the gospel. Yes; it would be doubtless too severe, only to an­nounce threatenings to men, who need con­tinually to be encouraged and consoled.

MAKE choice of affecting subjects, which lay hold of, and interest, the man and the Christian. Be serupulous about choosing those confined subjects, which circumscribe the Orator within too narrow bounds, which are connected with no moral precept, or which make a part of all discourses on morality. Avoid frivolous subjects, whose surface ap­pears showy, but which when we attempt to search into them, only present us with par­ticulars too insignificant and slender for Elo­quence; such as treat of matters of decorum rather than of duty; such as suggest materi­als for a letter rather than grounds for a ser­mon. Avoid quaint subjects, which are im­proper for the multitude, merely serving the Orator himself for a pompous declamation, in which the human heart can take no interest; philosophical and abstract subjects, equally remote from religion and Eloquence, and more adapted to the Portico or the Lyceum, than to the Gospel pulpit; those subjects, in a word, which, though they may have the ap­pearance of being novel and animating, are really far-fetched and affected, and, in which, a discovery is made, not so much of genius, as of the want of it.

[Page 72] MANY good subjects still remain for Chris­tian Orators to invent or revive. But then is no need to search for them, when they do not Happen to present themselves naturally to the mind, as by an involuntary inspiration.

BEGIN with studying the prevailing best of your genius; and, after having tried your strength on different subjects of argument, imagination, or sentiment, constantly follow that sort, which is most peculiarly your own, and which nature itself hath destined for you.

BE not afraid of going in beaten tracks. A fertile Orator always discovers new trea­sures in old mines. Wherefore should we hesitate to enter afresh upon those subjects which have been already successfully hand­led? It is because our great masters have laid hold of all their most striking beauties, and that in draining those fields, formerly so fruit­ful, they have changed them into barren de­serts?

LET us here be candid. If we were unac­quainted with those lucid plans, those original ideas, which we so justly admire in their writ­ings, should we have conceived them of our­selves? The superiority of the models ought to enkindle our emulation, instead of damp­ing our courage.

IF Bossuet, Bourdaloue, Masiillon, were to return upon earth, think we, that their genius [Page 73]would be so fettered by their former masterly performances, as to be incapable of fresh productions? or that these immortal Orators would not, even at this day, have been equal to themselves? Exert your talents and zeal! The subjects, which seem to be exhausted, will immediately receive new life: and the Orator, who can even now acquire original­ity, after these primitive men, shall participate their renown through all ages.

SECTION XX. Of Panegyrics.

WHEREFORE should we suppose that we could succeed better in Eloquence by making choice of subjects less known, when we so seldom observe distinguished suc­cess in the species of Panegyric, although the masters of the art have not hitherto travelled this road with that eclat which they have ac­quired in delivering doctrinal and moral dis­courses? The new subjects in this branch of Eloquence, which remain for Christian Ora­tors to handle, do not infallibly suggest to their minds the most eloquent Orations. This remark proves that not new subjects, but new [Page 74]ideas, are wanting, in order to excel in the art of Oratory.

NOTHING, however, is more adapted to in­flame the imagination, than the praise be­stowed by the sacred ministry on those Chris­tian heroes, whose examples do credit to our religion, while they condemn our behaviour.

IF it be an excellent and pleasing sight to behold persons assembled in a Church, in or­der to their being instructed in all the duties of religion, it is also, without doubt, a very noble institution to have altars erected to vir­tue, and public eulogiums decreed to the most reverend saints, whom religion holds up to the imitation of her children. But men, whose lives, although in other respects unblemished, have been, notwithstanding, not much known, do not furnish sufficient materials for Elo­quence.

To acquire and maintain the honour of such solemn homage, it is necessary to possess celebrity proceeding from superior genius, or brilliant actions; to have obtained a distin­guished influence over the age, or, at least, over the country, in which one has lived; to have formed an epoch in the history of re­ligion; to be exalted above the common vir­tues; to have outlived oneself by illustrious monuments; and to appear before posterity with a reputation commanding respect: for, [Page 75]in spite of all the pomp of declaimers, a saint unknown will only obtain eulogiums unno­ticed like himself.

THE most common fault, attending this species of discourse, is, a failure in giving a just description of the character of the man who is praised.

PANEGYRISTS more or less dwell upon the surface, instead of penetrating to the bottom, of the subject.

MOST Panegyrics, distinguished from one another merely by the title, are equally ap­plicable to all saints in similar circumstances, and consequently do not characterize any one.

IT is on this account that we have not, as yet, any collection of the kind, which could be quoted for a model.

THE Panegyrics of Flechier, so long ex­tolled as master-pieces in the rhetoric of col­leges, are, in the present day, extremely fallen from their ancient glory.

THOSE of Massillon are universally consid­ered as the least valuable of his productions. We are continually losing sight of the saint, whom the Orator is praising to pursue long digressions of morality, generally foreign to the subject, and of which, not one passage is remembered.

[Page 76] THE inattention of Preachers has occasion­ed the disgust of the public. This species of composition is now pretty generally abandon­ed. Excepting a very small number of pri­vileged subjects, which should never be given up, Panegyrics are very rarely pronounced in the pulpits of Paris.

IT is when composing these sacred eulogies that we ought especially to keep in view this distinguished maxim of Boileau, "Nothing is beautiful but truth."

IT is allowable to embellish facts by com­parisons, or by contrasts, provided that we confine ourselves to those innocent artifices of Eloquence; but it is ridiculous to pretend a false admiration, which every one sees through, and in which no one participates.

INDETERMINATE commendations, common places, accumulated epithets, deceitful adula­tions, disgustful exaggerations, discover igno­rance or knavery, and at once destroy the con­fidence of the auditory.

LET the Orator, then, always reflect that he is placed in the Pulpit of truth; that he is surrounded with a number of intelligent hearers; that that which ceases to be probable is revolting; that the public opinion is never imposed on with impunity; and that extrav­agant compliments debase him who bestows [Page 77]them without ever exalting him who receives them. Lysippus said justly, that he had honoured Alexander more by representing him with a pike in his hand, than Apelles, who always painted him hurling the thun­derbolt like Jupiter.

WHEN the subject of a panegyric is fertile in events, the moral ought to arise out of the historical narrative, without smothering, it un­der a heap of reflections which occur to every auditor. A method too didactic would be injurious to the discourse, by impeding its rapidity.

THOROUGHLY comprehend the character and actions of the man whom you celebrate. Surround him with his contemporaries. De­scribe the manners of the age in which he lived. Collect, combine, all the particulars which [...]end to the same point, that, with them, you may frame your materials. Arrange, so to speak, the virtues, the talents, the events, the misfortunes, which history presents to your view, and you will then impart to your narrations all the strength of argument, and all the glow of Eloquence.

WE cannot but reprobate the method of those inanimate Panegyrists, who confound rhetorical distribution with chronological or­der.

[Page 78] THAT severe sentence alights on such, which the Critic Boileau passed on poets, who are destitute of poetical rapture, and who write without enthusiasm: He styles them ‘sorry historians, that will follow the order of time without daring for one moment to lose sight of a subject.’ ^*

BUT it is no less certain, that, in the plan of a Panegyric, we must attend to the plain relation of facts, so that the discourse, com­posed in other respects according to the rules of art, may appear the simple developement of the subject.

IT is with some astonishment, that, after having read in Massillon all the circumstances of the death of a martyr of saint, we find the Orator afterwards promising the second part of the same Panegyric.

THIS confusion of the plan destroys the effect of the subject; and the hearer, contin­ually bewildered, through the want of his­torical order, departs without obtaining the knowledge of him, whose praises he came to hear so emphatically delivered. What, but a Panegyric, is this, which does not describe [Page 79]the man to whom it is consecrated, and whose history I am still obliged to consult, if I wish to form clear ideas of his life?^*

SECTION XXI. Of S. Vincent de Paul.

OF all the subjects of Panegyric, which the modern history of religion affords us, the best, in my opinion, is the eulogy of S. VINCENT DE PAUL; a man of great virtue, though possessed of but little renown; the best citizen whom France hath had; the Apostle of humanity, who, after having been a shep­herd in his childhood, hath left in his country establishments of more utility to the unfortu­nate, than the finest monuments of his sove­reign, Louis XIV.

HE was, successively, a slave at Tunis, Pre­ceptor of the Cardinal de Retz, Minister of a village, Chaplain-General of the galleys, Prin­cipal of a college, Chief of the missions, and Joint-Commissioner of Ecclesiastical Benefi­ces.^* He instituted, in France, the Semina­ries [Page 81]of the Lazarists, and of the Daughters of Charity, who devote themselves to the conso­lation of the unfortunate, and who scarcely ever change their condition, although their vows only bind them for a year. He endowed hospitals for foundlings, for orphans, for the insane, for galley-slaves, and for old men. His generous compassion reached all kinds of wretchedness, with which the human species is oppressed, and monuments of his benefi­cence are to be found throughout all the provinces of the kingdom. When reading his life, we remark, that nothing does more honour to religion, than the history of institu­tions formed in favour of humanity, when humanity is beholden for them to the minis­ters of the altars. Whilst kings, armed against each other, ravage the earth already laid waste by other scourges. Vincent de Paul, the son of a husbandman of Gascony, repaired the public calamities, and distributed more than twenty millions of livres in Champagne, in Picardy, in Lorraine, in Artois, where the inhabitants of whole villages were dying through want, and were afterwards left in the fields without burial, until he undertook to defray the expenses of interment. He dis­charged, for some time, an office of zeal and charity towards the gallies. He saw, one day, a wretched galley-slave, who had been con­demned to three years confinement for smug­gling, [Page 82]and who appeared inconsolable on ac­count of his wife and children having been left in the greatest distress. Vincent de Paul sensibly affected with his situation, offered to put himself in his stead, and, what doubtless will scarcely be credited, the exchange was accepted. This virtuous man was chained among the crew of galley-slaves, and his sent continued to be swollen during the remainder of his life, from the weight of those honour­able irons which he had borne.

IT is evident how much an action like this is capable of suggesting to the mind of an Orator; and that he would be unworthy or his profession, if he related it without excit­ing tears.

WHEN this great man came to Paris, found­lings were sold in the street of St. Landry for twenty sous a piece; and the charge of these innocent creatures was committed, out of charity, as was reported, to diseased women, from whom they sucked corrupted milk.

THESE infants whom Government aban­doned to public compassion, almost all perish­ed; and such as happened to escape so many dangers were introduced clandestinely into opulent families, in order to dispossess the legitimate heirs. This, for more than a cen­tury, was a never-failing source of litigation, the particulars of which are to be found in [Page 83]the compilation of our old lawyers. Vincent de Paul at once provided funds for the main­tainance of twelve of these children. His charity was soon extended to the relief of all those who were left exposed at the doors of the churches. But that unusual zeal, which always gives life to a new institution, having cooled, the resources entirely failed, and fresh outrages were renewed on humanity.

VINCENT DE PAUL was not discouraged. He convoked an extraordinary assembly. He caused a number of those wretched infants to be placed in the church; and forthwith mounting the pulpit, he pronounced, with his eyes bathed in [...]ears, that discourse▪ which doth as much honour to his piety as his Elo­quence, and which I faithfully transcribe from the history of his life, drawn up by M. Abelly, Bishop of Rhodes.

‘COMPASSION and charity have assuredly induced you, Ladies, to adopt these little creatures for your children. You have been their mothers by kindness, since their moth­ers by nature have forsaken them. See, now, whether ye also are willing to abandon them. Cease, for the present, to be their mothers, that ye may become their judges. Their life and their death are in your hands. I am going to put it to the vote, and to take the suffrages. It is time to pronounce their [Page 84]sentence, and to know if ye are unwilling to have compassion any longer upon them. They will live, if ye continue to take a charitable care of them, and they will all die if ye abandon them.’

SIGHS were the only answer to this pathetic exhortation: and the same day, in the same church, at that very time, the Foundling Hospital at Paris was founded and endowed with a revenue of forty thousand livres.^*

THIS is the man, who scarcely possesses any fame in Europe! This is the man, who, ac­cording to the judgment of his enemies, had zeal only without talents! His life was inter­woven with good works, the benefit of which we still enjoy.

THE misfortune of S. Vincent de Paul (if it be one to be little praised, and even little known,) was not to be celebrated, when he died in 1661, by that eloquent Bossuet who immortalized all his heroes, and who, at the [Page 85]very time, was composing funeral orations for subjects far less deserving of his genius. But the honour of a public Panegyric is due to his virtues; and the Orator, who shall represent him in a point of view worthy of the admiration and gratitude of his fellow-citi­zens, will have deserved well of his country.^*

SECTION XXII. Of Describing Characters.

IT is common in Panegyrics, or in funeral Orations, for Orators to sketch the por­traiture of contemporaries who have been the rivals or antagonists of the man whose virtues are praised. Such passages are commonly [...]cised with so much the more severity, as they always indicate design; and the Auditor is uninterested in [...]earing them, unless a distinguished precision immediately impress them on his memory; unless each stroke of the pencil form an excellent trait; unless the man, of whose character we are forming a judgment, is already celebrated; and, in a word, unless the Orator compress many ideas into a very narrow compass.

WHEN Massillon preached to the Nuns of Chilot, in the presence of the Queen of Eng­land, he drew the picture of the Prince of Orange, to please the consort of King James; but his genius rendered him no service on this occasion. Massillon only introduces one thought, in order to describe William III. which he expresses with sufficient precision, and afterwards dilates with his usual elegance, but without thoroughly investigating the cha­racter of the Stadtholder, or availing himself of the result of the history.

[Page 87] HIS amplification was more adapted to console the Queen of England, than to de­scribe the Prince of Orange. It may serve for an illustration of the fact, that Massillon enlarged too much on the same idea, and ex­tremely misapplied his fluency of expression.

WOULD you wish to know how Bossuet has described the Protector CROMWELL? Contrast with the excessive copiousness of the Bishop of Clermont, the energetic impetuosity of the Bishop of Meaux. Nothing will more strong­ly mark the difference of their genius.

‘A MAN, in whom was combined an in­credible depth of mind, the refined hy­pocrite, and the skilful politician; a man, capable of any undertaking, and of pro­found dissimulation; equally active and indefatigable in peace and war; who left nothing to Fortune, that he could take from her, either by resolution or foresight; withal so vigilant, and prepared on every side, that he never neglected the opportunities, with which she presented him. In a word, he [...] one of those restless and daring [...], who seem as if they were born to effect the revolution of the world.’ ^*

IT is thus that a few lines suffice to devel­ope an extraordinary character, with the [Page 88]penetration of a Moralist, the vehemence of an Orator, and the correctness of an Historian.

MASSILLON slightly glances upon subjects, and has a profusion of words. Bossuet acts precisely the reverse. It is not possible to deliver an opinion more adapted to establish the decision of posterity.

SECTION XXIII. Of Compliments.

SINCE the discussion of the different rules, to which the art of Eloquence subjects Christian Orators, hath led me on to various episodical details, I must not proceed to more it portant matters, without dwelling a little longer on another branch of ministerial wor [...], which has much affinity to Panegyrics, and especially to the description of characters.

I MEAN to speak of COMPLIMENTS, with which we are sometimes led to begin, or finish, our pulpit discourses.

ESTABLISHED usage no longer permits the ministers of the gospel to preach the sacred word before the rulers of the world, without burning at their feet some grains of incense. Kings are, therefore, much to be pitied, who [Page 89]are pursued with flattery in those very Church­es, where they come to learn their duty, and to be humbled for their faults: but it is, also, to be regretted, that Christian Orators, who ought then to speak as the conscience of the guilty, should degrade themselves to a level with a crowd of flatterers. What must doubt­less comfort them, is, the assurance that com­mendations enjoined upon the man who offers them, cannot dazzle the great, to whom they are addressed.

LET no one, however, exceed the bounds of just praise; for religion doth not permit it any farther than is consistent with truth.

LET us ever recognize an Apostle as an enemy to falsehood, even in those Compli­ments wherein one might so often suppose himself freed from the obligation of sincerity. Let us not bring a ministry, divinely com­missioned, into contempt, by e [...]ggerated eulogiums, which can never impose, either upon the Great who despise them, upon the Orator who pronounces them, upon the Auditor who hears them, or upon God, who forms a just judgment concerning them.

ADULATION always displeases. ‘To praise Princes for virtues which they have not,’ says the Duke de Rochefoucauld, ‘is to insult [Page 90]them with impunity.’ ^* It is, at least, to forget the respect which is due to them.

EUSEBIUS, in "the life of Constantine,"^† relates, that this Emperor imposed silence upon a preacher, who was base enough to imitate, in his sermon, the fiction of Virgil respecting the Apotheosis of Augustus, by telling Constantine, that, after his death, he should be associated with the Son of God in the government of the universe.

I ADMIRE in Bossuet, that noble and manly freedom, which he always possessed, through sear of flattery. We discern, in his Compli­ments, a certain apostolic severity, and a marked dislike of adulation.

HAD an indifferent person been nominated to praise Madam de la Valliere, for entering into a religious order, in the presence of Queen Maria Theresa, he would not have declined such an opportunity of extolling the virtues of the consort of Louis XIV.

"IT is proper", said Bossuet to her, ‘it is fit, Madam, that as you form by your rank so considerable a part of worldly grandeur, you should sometimes join in ceremonies, wherein we learn to undervalue it.’ The Orator then recals his subject, and thinks no more of the Princess.

[Page 91] FENELON never weakened, in his preach­ing, the force of the sacred maxims, which he hath recorded in Telemachus against flatterers.

ONE single Compliment of this kind is alone extant. It is to be found towards the conclusion of the discourse, which he deliv­ered at the Consecration of the Elector of Cologne. That passage is alike worthy of Fenelon, by its distinguished moderation, as well as by the rhetorical expression, which he makes use of, to justify the reservedness of his eulogium.

‘YOU have just heard, my brethren, all that I have said to this Prince. What have I not dared to say to him? And what ought I not to be bold to say to him, since his only fear is not to know the truth? The greatest praise would do him infinitely less honour, than the episcopal liberty with which he wishes me to address him.’

IT is difficult to adopt a direct address in Compliments, without appearing either to exaggerate, or to have an uniformity of style, and also without embarrassing the person too much, whom we mean to praise.

IT is preferable to include them in a para­phrase of the holy scriptures, or in prayer to God, or in an apostrophe addressed to the auditory.

[Page 92] BUT, whatever be the mode of expression that we select, the Compliment delivered must be connected with the subject under discus­sion; common places, which characterize no one, must be avoided; instruction must be blended with praise, or, rather, be made to proceed out of the praise itself; we must con­fine ourselves to a small number of lively and striking ideas; and endeavour to conclude with a passage happily expressed, and easily remembered.

BOURDALOUE never excelled in this arti­cle. All his compliments are trivial. In the sermon he preached at Versailles, two days after the marriage of the Duke of Bourbon, son of the great Dauphin, with Adelaide of Savoy, he repeated, towards his conclusion, a passage of scripture, the application of which forcibly struck the auditory. Some esteemed it a very happy allusion, while others were of opinion, that it degenerated into a play of words.

AFTER a very instructive eulogium, Bour­daloue speaks, in these terms, of the young Princess:

‘THERE is that, which, in my estimation, renders her more respectable than her rank, and which induces me to say as Eliezer, the servant of Abraham, when, beholding for the first time the spouse of the son of his [Page 93]master, cried out in a transport of admira­tion and praise,’ ‘this truly is she whom God hath chosen, to be the wife of the son of my Lord.’

SECTION XXIV. Of a direct Address; and Rhetorical Dialogue.

IF drawing of characters and compliments be excepted, in which the Orator may sometimes descend, without degradation, to the sparkling efforts of wit, a manly energy, of which solidity constitutes the beauty, should enliven all the members of his discourses.

WHENEVER he addresses an assembly, he should affect them, for the language of the passions is that alone which strike the multi­tude.

I HAVE often remarked, that, in the read­ing societies which are formed in the country, eloquent works are chosen in preference to those of instruction. Truth satisfies the mind of a solitary reader; but no sooner doth he unite with others than he wishes to be affect­ed; and writings, otherwise excellent, cease to please, when they undergo the formidable experiment of being read aloud.

[Page 94] ATTEMPT not, then, to write a book, when you are composing a sermon. Guard against ever adopting the languid trammels of a wri­ter, who speaks from his pen, or his paper, while I should be attending to his discourse as the inspiration of the moment.

ARE you desirous that your Eloquence may be animated? Substitute for the languor of a continued discourse, the liveliness of an immediate address. Converse continually with your hearers. Instead of wandering in abstract contemplations, as if you were meditating in solitude, speak to that numerous assembly, which gathers around to hear you.

YOU will find a very good example of this direct address, in ‘the familiar instruction of Massillon, upon the ceremony of Abso­lution:’ an admirable exhortation, which, bears no resemblance to any of his other dis­courses, and, in which, each expression is a dart thrown by the Orator, transfixing the hearts of his Auditory!

To speak to the hearers is not sufficient. It is also requisite to make them speak them­selves, and to add to the variegated charms of an immediate address, the never failing and increasing effect of Dialogue.

THE ancients discussed, in Dialogues, the most philosophic subjects. These men, who [Page 95]knew so well how to imitate nature, did not compose inanimate books, when they meant to unfold the ideas which they had collected in their meditations. They approached to the manner of the drama. They placed, upon the stage, some friends, w [...]ose conversations they reported. They thus discussed various opposite opinions, with an equal mixture of wisdom and urbanity. They made choice of each reader for a judge; and hence it is, that they have diffused over the writings of anti­quity, all that delight, which is experienced while attending to the conversation of a select number of intelligent guests, who mutually impart each other's thoughts, in the agreeable freedom of an entertainment.

IF, by this mode of Dialogue, Plato and Cicero have succeeded in enlivening meta­physical subjects, how much greater impulse and life would it not impart to Eloquence?

IN Oratory, Dialogue supplies the place of alternate speakers, breaks the monotony, gives strength to the argument, and inspires confidence, provided the Orator does not weaken those difficulties which he ought to propose to himself; for, if the hearer can render the objections more forcible than the Orator, he will no longer attend to his an­swers.

[Page 96] BESIDES, nothing is better calculated for reviving the attention, than those suspensions, properly managed, which cause the hearers to fluctuate in a kind of uncertainty, proceeding at first from an emotion of surprise, when the Orator starts objections to himself, which he afterwards converts into curiosity, when he refutes them.

I AM often delighted with those cogent questions in the Discourses of MASSILLON, which engage the attention of the hearers, at the very moment when they might be apt to withdraw it.

AN example of this sort occurs in his ser­mon "on the mixture of the righteous and the wicked."

‘THE righteous deprive iniquity of every excuse. Do you say that you have done no more than to follow established prece­dents? But have the righteous, who are among you, conformed to them? Do you plead the unavoidable consequences of illustrious descent? You know some, who, with a name still more distinguished than your own, impart sanctity to splendor. Do you plead the vivacity of your years?—the weakness of your sex? Every day will shew you some, who, in the bloom of youth, and with all the talents suited to this world, [Page 97]have their minds supremely bent on Heav­en. Is it the distraction of business? You may see those engaged in the same cares with yourself, who, notwithstanding, make salvation their principal concern. Is plea­sure your delight? Pleasure is the first desire of all men, and of the righteous, in some of whom it is even stronger, and whose natural dispositions are less favourable to virtue, than in you. Do you plead your afflictions? There are some good men dis­tressed. Or prosperity? There are those to be met with, who, amidst their abund­ance, devote themselves to God. Or the state of your health? You discover some, who, in sickly bodies, possess souls filled with divine fortitude. Turn yourself which way you will; as many righteous, as many the witnesses which testify against you.’ ^*

SECTION XXV. Of an ardent Style.

IN proportion to the frequency of Dialogue in a discourse, the less will Apostrophes be necessary; and the less lavish we are of this figure, the greater will be its effect.

[Page 99] IT is in Apostrophes that the Orator should display all his vehemence, if he would avoid the danger and confusion, attending himself, alone, being warmed with his subject. Feel­ing succeeds better than reasoning in those moments of effervescence, in which the soul ought to burst forth with sufficient impetu­osity to hurry the Auditory along one while by the strength of the proofs, another while by the energy of rhetorical strokes.

WHEN Apostrophes are multiplied, they discover a declaimer, who cannot write, who is confused rather than moved and who sub­stitutes affected convulsions for the transports of Eloquence.

[Page 100] IT is necessary, without doubt, that the Orator should enliven his compositions with that ardour of soul which indicates and awak­ens sensibility.

IF his writings be destitute of those glow­ing ideas, which proceed from the heart, his most emphatic language will only be insipid jargon.

"THE dull writer is a wretched author." This maxim of Boileau is incontestable.

BUT, if, by the term ardour, be understood, the fermentations of a roving brain, paradox united to a depraved taste, unceasing apos­trophes, useless exclamations, obscure hyper­boles; in a word, a style inflated with ex­travagant metaphors; ah! guard against such digressions, O young Orator, who hast re­ceived from nature the inestimable gift of genius. Be assured that genuine enthusiasm is no other than reason warmed by the voice of the passions, and that Eloquence is not a delirium.^*

[Page 101] Do you ask, what is frigid? It is whatever is exaggerated; whatever is destitute of judg­ment; whatever pretends to wit; whatever is written without interesting; and, especial­ly, [Page 102]nothing is more frigid than a counterfeit ardour.

THE genuine talent for Eloquence is dis­tinguished among very different styles. The Orator possessed of it is always simple with­out ever appearing vulgar. He shuns what­ever is tumid or loose, or affected, or obscure; and he knows, at times, how to touch the soul. and to charm the ear. Master of his expres­sions, as he is of his thoughts, he rises, he is melted, he is inflamed, when his subjects re­quire excellence, sensibility, or fervour. To avoid in his discourses the tome of declama­tion, he meditates a long time before he writes; for it is the effect of meditation to retrench the superfluity of words. The sacrifices, which he offers to taste, do not enervate his energy; they yield fresh pleasure to the auditor, who is capable of admiring a natural and true ex­pression [Page 103]of genius in a judicious and correct phraseology.^*

THIS excellence, so rate, and so deserving of universal approbation, loses, however, all its estimation in the eyes of those, whom a counterfeit energy dazzles, and who deviate from the language of nature.

WE know that Seneca found the eloquence of Cicero too simple, and, that his disciple Nero gilded the statues of Lysippus.^†

SECTION XXVI. Of Epithets.

STYLE loses its fulness and energy, when words are environed with cumbrous epi­thets.

It hath been remarked, that, in the philo­sophical analysis of languages, the substantive [Page 104]is nothing, as it were, because abstract, and the adjective every thing, because it is sensible. But it is not so in Eloquence, where, fre­quently, the Epithet not being required by the accompanying word, oppresses the period, without strengthening the thought.^*

EVERY useless Epithet ought to be pro­scribed. The Orator's elocution becomes loose and dragging, when each expression doth not conduce to throw light upon the meaning, or, at least, to charm with the harmony.^†

[Page 105] SUCH is the case with some discourses, which seem to be destitute of ideas, although in other respects profoundly studied, inasmuch as one half of the words might safely have been retrenched.

SECTION XXVII. Of the Necessity of an Orator's refining his Style.

CHRISTIAN Orators, do you, yourselves, erase such disgusting pleonasms. Pass a critical judgment upon your productions, and, together with such insignificant expres­sions, banish all those negligencies of style, which degrade the sublimity of the ideas.

IT is not required that the whole of a ser­mon should be equally striking; but it is requisite that it be all equally well written, and that Eloquence make amends, by the beauty of the expression, for the quality of the thoughts when they are ordinary; just as sculpture adds, by the richness of the drapery, to the elegance of the figures.

WE must allow pauses for admiration. This is chiefly necessary for the sake of energy. If, therefore, it be remarked that there are many very eloquent passages in a sermon [Page 106]composed with care, and containing forcible arguments, the praise will be sufficient; since there is none as yet extant, which is in all respects perfect.

Is the merit of a pure and elegant style your ambition? Multiply the copies of your discourses, and cease not to transcribe your performance until you are able to afford satisfaction to yourself.

AN Orator ought to adopt the motto of Caesar, who ‘thought that he had done nothing, while there remained any thing for him to do.’ The more he writes, the better he writes; and it is only by surmount­ing the tediousness of reiterated transcriptions, that he can display in his style all the elegance of his taste.

HENCE it is, that very few men of learning employ all their powers to advantage. The greater part, being accustomed to rest too soon contented, die without ever having known the extent of their own talents.

FRESH ideas, the beauties of enlargement, the exquisite sentiment of a finished passage, which Horace so well defined and relished when he called it, qui me mihi reddat amicum; in a word, the elegant and variegated turns of expression, which compose the beauty of style, do not occur to a writer in the first cast [Page 107]of a work, and are generally the effect of a slow correction.

WHILE there remains room to alter. there is opportunity for improvement. It is the characteristic of excellence in all the arts, so sensibly to strike the spectator who admires it, that he can conceive of nothing transcending that which he beholds.

HOWEVER little we may have accustomed ourselves to write, we easily distinguish those passages, which have not been sufficiently studied, and which proceeded from the pen of the writer, before they had been thoroughly digested in his own mind. This hasty or negligent composition soon discovers itself, not, as is commonly supposed, by the pleasing freedom of a diction somewhat too unrestrain­ed and irregular, but by the confusion of ex­pression, all the constituent parts of which are stiff and forced.

THE more the writer hurries himself, the more dragging, of course, is his style. And, when it is said that a writing "smells of the lamp," it is an evident proof that it is not sufficiently laboured.

WHEN the steel hath been well polished, the edge of the file is no more perceived.

SECTION XXVIII. Of a proper Selection of Words.

LET no one accuse me here of exhorting Orators to render their compositions insipid, with a view of improving their style.

I AM sensible, that, whatever we wish to finish with too much care, we enervate; and, that the impetuosity of Eloquence spurns at those minute researches, which would extin­guish its fervour; but, I am aware also, that we can write from present impulse, and cor­rect afterwards, at leisure, without cooling the original ardour; and, that a pnoper me­dium is requisite to be kept between the ex­treme of neglecting application, which adds to the defects of taste, and the excess of la­bour, which deadens the transports of genius.

BOILEAU hath said before me, and better than I have, ‘Put your work twenty times upon the frame; polish and re-polish it continually; sometimes add, and often erase.’ ^*

[Page 109] A PAINS-TAKING Orator, who is desirous of giving the finishing stroke to his produc­tions, is always repaid for his trouble. If correction do not suggest to him the materials of a discourse, it, at least, points out expres­sions unworthy of the pulpit, which sometimes escape in the ardour of composition; and[Page 110]this, doubtless, is a valuable advantage in a style wherein we apprehend, justly enough, that one bad word doth oftentimes more injury, than a weak argument.

CORRECTION suggests to the Orator appro­priate expressions, which render his ideas more striking, and his sentiments more impassioned▪ "In the same manner," says Cicero, ‘as clothes, at first invented through necessity, have afterwards become ornamental to the human body, so words, created by necessity, impart also beauty to discourse.’

THE value of well placed expressions is so striking in the art of Oratory, that the elo­quence of a passage sometimes depends upon a single word. Take an example which is deserving of admiration. I select it from an excellent discourse, which the Cardinal de Rohan, Grand Almoner of France, pronoun­ced upon presenting the body of Louis XIV. at the Abbey of St. Dennis. ‘The Prince, whose loss we mourn, leaves, it is true, names celebrated upon earth; and posterity the most remote, will, like us, admire Louis the Great, the Just, the Conqueror, the Pa­cific, the Friend of Learning, and the Pro­tector of Kings.’

HAD the Cardinal de Rohan said, that this Monarch left upon earth a celebrated name, his expression would hav [...] been very com­mon; [Page 111]but the same phrase put in the plural, while speaking only of one man, and the enumeration of the several titles of glory of Louis XIV. which at once justifies this bold ascription, appear to me a sublime stroke.

MASSILLON knew also, this secret of the art. In his writings, a word, which seemed to de­clare a paradox, often expressed a new thought, and a very weighty and just idea. Such is that admirable Apostrophe, which we read in his sermon, ‘on the mixture of the righteous and the wicked.’ ‘Ye great ones of the earth! the innocent pleasure of sincerity, without which there is nothing agreeable in the commerce of mankind, is denied you, and ye have no more friends, because it is too beneficial to be one.’

SECTION XXIX. Of Metaphors.

"I AM fond," says Montaigne, "of words corresponding with the thought." But, to represent an idea in all its energy, the vulgar expression is frequently insufficient, and then the Metaphor becomes the proper word in rhetorical language.

[Page 112] It is essential to the two objects of which a Metaphor is composed, that their relation to each other be obvious, and that they may be marked by no striking dissimilitude.

ELOQUENCE could not exist without this language of imagination. "Speech," says Cicero, ‘ought equally to strike the mind and senses of all men.’ ^* Now, the senses are not moved but by the liveliness of images. Nature herself, which is the original model of art, suggests the most expressive images to savages, to infants, and to the meanest ranks of people, when they are governed by a strong passion.

DUMARSAIS hath judiciously observed, that ‘more tropes were made use of in the mar­kets, than in the academies.’ It is true, those popular Metaphors are often very inac­curate, and a writer ought to express them with exactness, when he means to admit them into elevated language.

THAT absurd medley of Balthasar Gratian has been quoted with propriety, as a very striking example of the abuse which may be made of figurative eloquence: ‘Thoughts flow from the extensive coasts of memory, embark on the sea of the imagination, arrive [Page 113]at the port of genius, to be registered at the custom-house of the understanding.’ ^*

THERE must, doubtless, be imagination in the manner of expression; but, above all, there must be truth and judgment.

[Page 114] THE image is false, when there is a contra­diction of terms: as in that phrase, ‘I shall ascend to the foundation of the Cartesian system.’ It is incoherent, when it describes, on one side, a physical substance, and on the other, a moral subject: such is that parenthe­sis, ‘I say then (and I always continue fixed upon my principles.)’ It is puerile and far-fetched, whenever it forms an affected and unusual periphrasis: as when sun-dials have been called "the registers of the sun." But it becomes descriptive and just, when it is expressed with simplicity and energy. It is thus that Bossuet describes the demands of luxury, when he says, that ‘every art is ex­hausted (literally sweats) to satisfy them.’ ^*

WHEN Bossuet makes use of a Metaphor which seems bold, he sometimes apologises; and presently he rises upon that description, which he does not find sufficiently great nor daring.

[Page 115] "Shall I speak to you," says he in the fu­neral Oration for Maria Theresa, ‘shall I speak to you concerning the death of her children? Let us figure to ourselves that young Prince, whom the graces themselves appear to have formed with their hands. Forgive me this expression: methinks I still behold this flower falling. At that time the sorrowful messenger of an event so fatal, I was also the witness, when behold­ing the King and Queen, of the most pierc­ing grief on the one hand, and, on the other, of the most mournful lamentations; and under different forms I saw an un­bounded affliction.’

AN idea which would be common, were it not for the boldness of the imagination which sometimes gives sensation to inanimate beings, becomes interesting under the pencil of an Orator or a Poet.

ELOQUENCE, I know, hath less extensive privileges than Poetry. The latter is ex­empted, according to the judicious observation of Boileau, from all the set forms of excuse to which Prose is subjected: e. g. ‘Pardon this expression;—so to speak;—if I may venture to say so,’ &c. We often find, however, in excellent Orators, Metaphors which we should be scrupulous about hazard­ing in verse. Those figures are so transfused [Page 116]through the style, that they are scarcely ob­served in the perusal.

RACINE was, doubtless, struck with that expression in the sermon ‘on the mixture of the righteous and the wicked,’ where MASSILLON says, ‘the righteous man can with boldness condemn in others, that which he disallows in himself; his instruc­tions do not put his conduct to the blush;’ as he had expressed his admiration of that other Metaphor, which is in the same discourse; ‘the Courtiers of Zedekiah charged the tears and dismal predictions of Jeremiah, occasioned by the ruin of Jerusalem, with a secret desire of pleasing the king of Babylon, who was be­sieging sieging that unfortunate city.’

SECTION XXX. Of technical Expressions.

LET us never confound, with this elegant language of the imagination, those tech­nical words, which could only appertain to the vocabulary of sciences.

PITY on an Orator, when it is necessary to be learned in order to understand him!

[Page 117] IT is not to excite astonishment by the display of his learning, that he speaks to an assembled multitude; it is to move, it is to affect them; and he mistakes his object, if he prefer those abstract and intellectual expres­sions, which the vulgar do not comprehend, to those tender and ardent ones, which pro­duce a general impression.

A CHRISTIAN Orator is under still stronger obligation to address his hearers with that simplicity of style, without which he will never be truly eloquent. All men are bound to practise the duties of religion; it is, there­fore, requisite that all may be able to under­stand the minister who announces them. But, let us once more repeat it, the discharge of zeal in this, as in every other part of a ser­mon, is inseparable from the rules of art.

Is it your desire to be eloquent? Be sim­ple. I go farther—Be familiar in your discourses.^*

[Page 118] You will not find one scientific word in the great masters of the age of Louis XIV. After their example, then, reject all those unusual expressions, which would disguise your thoughts, instead of elucidating them; and do not raise any mists between the truth and your auditory.

[Page 119] QUINTILIAN illustrates this rule of taste by a very ingenious comparison, when he says, ‘that an Orator should consider the words of a language like pieces of money, with which he ought not to incommode himself, when they are not current coin.’ ^*

SECTION XXXI. Of Dignity of Style.

THIS popular Elocution doth not, how­ever, prohibit a Christian Orator from ever making use of elevated expressions.

NOTHING stands more opposed to the dig­nity of the Ministry than mean words, inde­cent allusions, or obscene representations.

CICERO descends to disgusting descriptions in his charges against Verres, and in relating the intemperance of Marc Antony.

MASSILLON, whose language is generally very guarded, has not paid sufficient respect to the decorum of the pulpit, in his eulogium of St. Agnes.

BOILEAU says, ‘the Style the least ele­vated hath still its elevation;’ much more [Page 120]rhetorical Style, the most dignified, and, con­sequently, the most difficult of all.

ELOQUENCE, in common with Poetry, has the happy privilege of embellishing its images with the noblest expressions, which, without this contrivance, could not belong to the Style of Oratory.

BOSSUET excels in that admirable talent of uniting the most familiar narrations to the dignity of his discourses; and he proves by his own example, that an able writer will always possess the art of adapting to the Style of Eloquence, whatever could be related in the freedom of conversation.

No excuse can, therefore, be any longer admitted in favour of those Orators, whose Style is mean, and grovelling, in relations much less common, than some of those which Bossuet has given us in his funeral Orations. Such split upon this rock, who dwell upon the disorders of every condition of life, in­stead of attacking the vices which are com­mon to all.

WHENEVER a preacher neglects to moral­ize in general terms, he ceases to speak to his auditors a language, which interests them all; and thus, one part of the congregation is pleased at finding itself spared, while the other is loaded with the severest reproaches. [Page 121]Whatever paints the various passions, which agitate the human heart, is excellent; but, whatever describes the history of the excesses peculiar to the different conditions, which divide society, is low.

SECTION XXXII. Of Transitions.

THE less you multiply those extraneous particulars which have no affinity be­tween themselves, the greater unity * your⁷¹ [Page 122]discourse will have; the more will its parts be linked together, and the ideas follow in succession.

THE art of forming Transitions is as dif­ficult to be subjected to rules, as to be re­duced to practice.

[Page 123] BOSSUET'S "History of the Variations." is "justly quoted as a master-piece of this sort, wherein this great man unites all the branches of his subject, by the sole band of his logic; and thus connects, without confusion, the most abstract and dissimilar propositions.

TRANSITIONS, which are only built on the mechanism of the style, and merely consist in a fictitious connexion between the last word of the paragraph which finishes, and the first word of the sentence which begins, cannot, with propriety, be admitted as natur­al, but are rather forced combinations. True rhetorical Transitions are such as follow the course of the reasoning, or sentiment, with ease, almost without art, and unperceived by [Page 124]the hearer; such, as unite the materials of the discourse, instead of merely suspending some phrases upon each other; such, as bind the whole together, without obliging the Preacher to compose a new exordium to each subdi­vision, which his plan exhibits to him; such, as form an orderly and methodical arrange­ment, by the simple unfolding of the ideas, in some measure, imperceptible to the Orator himself: such, as call for, and correspond with, each other by an inevitable analogy, and not by an unexpected association; such, in fine, as meditation produces by suggesting valu­able thoughts, not such as the pen furnishes in its search after combined resemblances.

CLEAR and distinct ideas reciprocally accord with easy and felicitous transitions. ‘Stones well hewn,’ says Cicero, ‘unite of them­selves, and without the aid of cement.’

SECTION XXXIII. Of a copious Style.

IF a desultory style, if short expressions, in a word, if poor ideas can never strictly unite, let us discard them, without hesitation, from a rhetorical discourse. A broken and [Page 125]sententious style will never make powerful impressions upon the multitude. Eloquence requires a kind of diction, expanded, lofty, sublime, in order to develope the emotions of the soul, and to impart to thought all its en­ergy. He who renews his thoughts line by line, is always frigid, slow, monotonous, and superficial. Sublimity is simply the effort of genius transcending ordinary ideas. Let your thoughts dive deep. Stop not to pick up the sparkling grains of sand upon that ground which covers a mine of gold. Shoot beyond vulgar conceptions; and you will find the true sublime, between that which is common, and that which is exaggerated. Unconstrain­ed in your steps, confine not yourself within the narrow limits of those curtailed phrases, which drop every moment with the expiring idea; but display in their vast extent, those copious and commanding modes of expres­sion, which impart to Eloquence its energy, its elevation, its vehemence, and its grandeur. "The thundering strokes of Demosthenes," said Cicero, ‘would have been much less impressive, had they not been hurled with all the power and impetuosity of copious­nes.’ ^*

[Page 126] THE same Cicero fixed the extent of the Orator's period to four verses of six feet, which can be pronounced with one single breathing.^*

BUT, have we proper periods in our lan­guage, who can scarcely ever make use of transposition; who are constrained to give a signification, if not perfect, at least very dis­tinct, to each word of the sentence, which the reader peruses; who are subjected to uniform and feeble constructions, in which the nomi­native is contiguous to the verb preceding the case governed; and who are perpetually em­barrassed by the repetition or ambiguity of pronouns? The theory of our participles, too, is so obscure, our conjunctions are so insufficient, our cases, admitting we have any, so insignificant, that it becomes requisite, in writing, perpetually to recal the nominative, or the pronoun which represents it, and to sacrifice sublimity to perspicuity.^†

THE ancients compared the period to a sling, which throws out the stone, after many circuits.^‡ Our period is none other than an [Page 127]inanimate diction, like the servile translation of a precise interpreter, who expresses literally and unskilfully, ideas conceived in a foreign idiom.^*

SECTION XXXIV. Of Harmony of Style.

NEVERTHELESS, without this measure­ment of periods, Style is flat and un­harmonious. A Christian Orator should en­deavour [Page 129]to please his auditors by a melody which may make them more attentive to his instructions, and thereby render the allure­ments of art subservient to the success of his [Page 130]ministry. Our great masters have frequently displayed, in the pulpit, the fine talents of painting by [...]unds, and of forming resem­blances of in imitative harmony, which poetry would find it difficult to equal.

BOSSUET meant to intimate in the funeral Oration for Tellier, that that magistrate had breathed his last, while repeating this verse of the psalm, ‘I will sing of the mercies of the Lord forever;’ and see how the Orator recals, if I may so say, before all his auditory, this circumstance of the death of the Chan­cellor: "Enraptured that he could pour forth his grateful acknowledgements even with his dying breath, he began the hymn of praise for divine mercies. I will sing, says he, of the mercies of the Lord forever. He expires while repeating these words, and continues singing with Angels the sacred song."

[Page 131] IT is genius alone, which can form such excellent pictures, and the art of producing them is above rules; but, it is no less true, that rules of art are often useful to the Orator, in laying open to him the chief secrets of harmony.

NEVER conclude your sentences with monosyllables, unless they are sufficiently sonorous to strike the ear, and to assist the cadence of a period.^*

GUARD against multiplying words, whose uniform terminations introduce consonances, or rather rhymes, which prose ought to re­ject. You will find in the organization of every language a sort of mechanical harmony, in the use of which we should not too freely indulge.^†

SECTION XXXV. Of Variety of Style.

IF variety be requisite, even in the termi­nation of words, it is still more indispens­able in the construction of the ideas. Uni­formity in the manner of expression always implies languor of thought.^*

ARE you at a loss how to vary your peri­ods? Lay down your pen. Resume medi­tation; and every trait will soon have its ap­propriate character and likeness.

THE repetition of the same modes of ex­pression, at the commencement of a new di­vision of the subject, succeeds in pulpit style; but, if we wish to preserve the hearers from the weariness which accompanies uniformity, it is peculiarly proper, in the minute opening of such parts, to diversify the expressions and metaphors, and to give a new colouring to each phrase.

[Page 133] THE sermons of the Abbé POULLE, which we have heard with so much pleasure, deserve to be quoted, in the first instance, as admirable models of the art of Oratory. What princi­pally distinguishes the Style of this celebrated writer, is that inexhaustible fertility of a bril­liant imagination, which continually changes his descriptions, his movements, his lan­guage; and which, though discovering every moment the genius of an Orator under a va­riety of forms, always retains the simplicity that is inseparably connected with real ability.

SECTION XXXVI. Of Perspicuity.

LET us guard, however, against sacrificing Perspicuity to Variety; and never be­come obscure and unintelligible, in the pur­suit of synonyma, or periphrases, with a view to avoid the repetition of the same expression or turn of thought. The intention of speak­ing is to be understood.

THE Greeks, whose language painted to the mind, and often to the eyes, the significa­tion, and even the functions of each word, [Page 134]called the voice, light. ^* Dionysius of Hali­carnassus compared Demosthenes to a fire, kindled in the midst of the public places of Athens, enlightening and inflaming a people, equally blind and insensible to their true in­terests.

SUCH, indeed, should be the perspicuity of Eloquence, as indiscriminately to strike every mind. The Orator should continually ask himself, when he revises his productions, ‘What was it I meant to express?—have I expressed it?’ The more simple the ex­pression, the greater its perspicuity: this sim­plicity always imparts to it double energy.^†

[Page 135] IT is judgment, which points out the pro­priety of the word; and it is the propriety of expression which renders it perspicuous. But, to give perspicuity to the ideas, it is requisite to be thoroughly informed. The writer, who is necessitated to learn while he composes, is generally obscure. He, on the contrary, who hath, during a length of time, brought his knowledge to maturity, becomes [Page 136]sufficiently master of his subject, to banish from his style, ambiguity, double entendre, and declamation.

OBSCURITY proceeds from ignorance, when the expression is void of sense; from design, when it is far-fetched; from negligence, when the thought is confused; and from depravity of taste, when the word is more abstract than the idea. The style of sacred Eloquence ought to be clear, and, in some sort, trans­parent. The rapidity of utterance, which never allows time for examination, requires in a sermon all the perspicuity of the most familiar language.^*

SECTION XXXVII. Of striking Passages.

PERSPICUITY is never prejudicial either to depth or energy. The more striking a passage is, the clearer should be the expres­sion. One loves to find, in a sermon, some [Page 138]of those grand and new ideas, which delight, as if they were the fruit of our own invention; for "truth", says Fontenelle, ‘enters so nat­urally into the mind, that, when it is at first apprehended, it seems as if nothing more were necessary than to call it to remem­brance.’ ^* Such is the sentiment we expe­rience, when reading this sublime passage of [...] ‘God, in the sacred scriptures, de­rides idols, which bear the title of Gods. Where are your gods,’ saith he to the peo­ple, ‘those gods in whom ye have put your trust? Let them rise up, and help you, and be your protection.’ ^† Observe, ‘my brethren, that this great God, this true God, and He, who alone deserves by his beneficence the majesty of this title, would have us understand, that it is an insuffer­able dignity to bear the name of God, with­out supporting so great a name by extensive beneficence. This noble idea of power is far different from that which the Mighty of the earth form in their minds. They im­agine, that their grandeur shines forth more by laying waste, than by conferring bene­fits; by wars, by carnage, by the proud enterprises of those destroyers of provinces, whom we call conquerors.’ ^‡

[Page 139] SUCH, also, is the admiration excited by that beautiful passage, in the funeral Oration for LOUIS XV. by M. de Beavais, bishop of Sennes, who, in this kind of Christian Elo­quence, possesses a reputation as brilliant as it is merited.

‘THE people, doubtless, have no right to murmur; but they have also, undoubtedly, the right to keep silence; and their silence is the lesson of kings.’

SECTION XXXVIII. Of common Places.

SUCH strokes enliven a sermon, and leave, in the mind of the auditor, an indelible impression. The more they are multiplied in a discourse, the higher we soar above those diffuse writers, whose productions, being destitute of genius, are a mere collection of common places.

BY common places, I mean, here, loose details equally applicable to all subjects: for every subject has its common places, which will become apposite and peculiar, in the mouth of an energetic and original Orator.

[Page 140] ENTER a church in the middle of a sermon: if, in a minute, you do not discern the drift of the discourse; if you be obliged to wait to the end of a division, in order to penetrate the design of the preacher, pronounce con­fidently, that he wanders in a labyrinth of common places; that he hath not composed through inspiration; and that he labours hard to make up, by the redundancy of words, for the sterility of ideas.

WHAT, then, will you discover in his in­exhaustible loquacity? disgusting repetitions, or extravagant conceptions; plagiarisms or imitations; an incurable facility of uttering expressions, which always leave the mind empty; pitiful proofs of a beggarly medi­ocrity, from which nothing can be expected; and discourses, of which all the contents were known before they were heard.

HENCE arise those frequent enumerations, which are only a redundancy of words, some­times as dazzling in the delivery, as they are insipid in the perusal. Such puerile figures have been, for a long time, applauded by a great many hearers, who regarded, as the noblest effort of human genius, the mechanical talent of collecting, into one period, accumulated substantives, crouded epithets, rapid contradictions, unexpected antitheses, trivial or unnatural metaphors, repetitions [Page 141]re-echoed, abundance of synonymous words, symmetry of combinations, and unceasing contrasts.

BUT, it hath been at length understood, that this tiresome prating was not true elo­quence, and it is now become disgustful.

GUARD against tedious enumerations, which occasion you such painful efforts of memory, and are so soon forgotten.

WHEN an Orator studies his sermon, he is the best judge of it; and experience daily teaches him, that the passages, which he finds the greatest difficulty to commit to memory, scarcely ever deserve to be learnt.

SECTION XXXIX. Of Oratorical Preparation.

CONNECTED arguments imprint them­selves more easily on the memory, than those collections of words, which are destitute of ideas; and, especially, when the progress of Eloquence is advanced by a combination of proofs.

THE difficult and necessary art of oratorial preparation is sure to be decisive of the suc­cess of a sermon.

[Page 142] A SUDDEN stroke is merely a hasty sally; if it be well prepared, it becomes a sublime movement.

MAY I be permitted to render my idea more familiar by a comparison?—You walk by yourself, in the fields, on a summer's day. You give scope successively to a variety of thoughts, with which the view of the coun­try, and the silence of nature, inspire you. When your mind is thus wholly engaged with these pleasing reveries, all of a sudden you hear thunder which crashes at a distance. This noise at first alarms you. In the mean time, the sky is serene, the air is calm, all is tranquil about you; and this first impression of terror is soon erased from your memory. But, when the horizon lowers, and is covered with dark clouds; when the sun disappears; when the hurricane rolls whirlwinds of dust; when the lightning flashes; when the atmos­phere is inflamed; and when the thunder af­terwards roars over your head; you will be alarmed; and your mind, prepared by gra­dual emotions, will then have a more lively sensation of the violence of the shock arising from such continued perturbation. It is the same with Eloquence. Through a multitude of adventitious ideas, the mind must be gra­dually prepared to participate in all the tran­ports of passion or terror, of joy or grief, of [Page 143]love or indignation, with which you yourself are agitated. The impression too soon wears off, if the heart be not sufficiently mollified to enable it to penetrate without meeting with opposition.

DOTH Bossuet intend to give you a high idea of the courage, with which the queen of England struggled against all her misfortunes? His relations, were they introduced even without art, would astonish you; but, when ushered in by this sublime image, they trans­port you: ‘Like a column, whose solid mass appears the firmest support of a ruinous temple, when that lofty edifice which it sustains rests upon it without overthrowing it; thus the queen discovers herself to be the firm support of the state, when, after having for a long time borne its weight, she is not even bowed down under its fall.’ Your mind, struck with this spectacle which the Orator had the art of representing before you, beholds the queen of England constantly raised above her adversities; and your imag­ination is continually describing to itself this column, which remains standing in the midst of the ruins with which it is surrounded.

SECTION XL. Of Oratorial Precautions.

BESIDES those preparations, which tend to set off excellent ideas to advantage, there are also precautions, which Orators ought not to neglect. Precautions of modesty, with a view to conciliate the good-will, or confidence, of their auditory: Precautions of complaisance, in order to apologize for ideas, which would appear too bold if they bluntly thwarted the prejudices intended to be op­posed: Precautions of prudence: Appear as if you dared not accuse your hearers of cer­tain exces [...]es, of which they are but too cul­pable, and which the remorse of their con­sciences affect still more than the reproaches of your zeal. ‘When you make known unpalatable truths,’ says Cicero, ‘it is proper that you seem to do it with reluct­ance:’ ^* Precautions of decency: Throw a veil over particulars, to which you ought to refer, without too minutely investigating them. Bossuet does not chuse to say in direct terms, in his funeral oration for the queen of England, that Charles I. died upon a scaffold; but, to recal that event, he makes an inge­nious [Page 145]application; he contents himself with causing the queen to adopt those words of the prophet Jeremiah, who, alone, he says, is capable of equalling his lamentations to his calamities. ‘O Lord, behold my affliction, for the enemy hath magnified himself. The adversary hath spread out his hand upon all my pleasant things: my children are desolate, because the enemy prevailed. The kingdom is polluted, and the princes thereof. For these things I weep; mine eye, mine eye runneth down with water, because the comforter that should relieve my soul is far from me:’ ^* Precautions of judgment: Write agreeably to, and some­times in a style different from, your peculiar talent. Is it the pathetic which characterizes you? Guard against languor and monotony. Doth energy please you? Avoid obscurity and bombast. Observe the extreme, towards which your mind inclines, and endeavour to shun it: Precautions in the cadences of sentences; and particularly, in beginning paragraphs. The auditor forms his opinion of you when­ever the conclusion of your periods leaves him a moment's pause; and his attention re­laxes if you neglect to terminate your com­positions with luminous ideas, or striking images: in a word, precautions of courage, [Page 146]occasioned by subjects which present difficul­ties, where you are attended to with an equal mixture of eagerness and severity.

THROW yourself, at once, into the midst of the danger, that you may the better display the resources of your genius, and make your attack while put upon your defence. This risk, to which the Orator exposes himself, imparts to Eloquence a glow of enthusiasm, which raises him superior to his usual exer­tions. It then happens to him,— may I be forgiven this comparison? as to the soldier who said, while passing under the citadel of Namur, the day following the assault, ‘Yes­terday I stormed this rock in the midst of fire, and to-day I should not be able to mount it.’ "I firmly believe it", replied one of his comrades, ‘nor can I—there is no more any firing against us.’

SECTION XLI. Of Hypothesis

IT is evident, that on such hazardous occa­sions, the great business of an Orator con­sists in omitting no precautions, and in adding energy to art.

[Page 147] IT is an excellent method to make choice of a proper and ingenious circumlocution to convey the meaning of what cannot be so well expressed. The Hypothesis is a figure well adapted to yield this resource to Eloquence. Cicero often uses it in his Orations, and espe­cially in those against Verres, where he is every moment forming suppositions more striking than the facts, with a view to render the exactions of Verres odious to the people of Rome.

BOSSUET, whom I am pepetually quoting, because I know not a better model, hath made an admirable use of Hypothesis, in his fune­ral Oration for Tellier. ‘Sleep on, ye rich men of the earth, and remain in your native dust. Ah! if some ages—what do I say? if, some years after your death, ye may be­come men forgotten in the midst of the world, ye should hasten to enter into your tombs, that ye may not behold your names tarnished, your memories extinguished, and your foresight deceived in your friends and dependants, and still more, in your heirs and children. Is this, then, the fruit of the toil with which ye have been consumed under the sun?’

SECTION XLII. Of Egotism of Style.

LET us reckon also amongst oratorical precautions, a studied attention never to speak about oneself in the pulpit.

FLECHIER,^* who, in the composition of his funeral Oration for Turenne, stands in the foremost rank of Orators, although he do not delineate the excellent character of his hero in private life, and his discourse be, in other respects, far inferior to the chief per­formances of Bossuet, affords us, in a letter which is prefixed to his funeral Orations, a singular example of egotism and vanity. He draws his own portrait in this letter; and one would imagine that he is sending to his friend the materials for a panegyric; or rath­er, it is a complete eulogium, in which he forms sparkling antitheses from the recital and contrast of his various merits. See how Fle­chier [Page 149]describes himself in this passage: he tells us, that ‘he hath a sort of genius capa­ble of executing whatever he undertakes; his style is nature approaching to art, and art resembling nature. Nothing can be added to what he writes, without super­fluity, nor retrenched without removing something necessary. He can scatter some grains of odoriferous incense to refresh, and yet not overpower; but he accepts of none which are not equally pure with those which he bestows. There is discernible in his eyes a certain something corresponding with his genius. After all, it would be better if he could inure himself to study, and if his memory, somewhat treacherous, without however being unfaithful, were equally serviceable to him as his genius. But there is no perfection in the world, and every one hath his weak side.’ It were to be wished, for the honour of Flechier, that posterity had confirmed this judgment, which he passed upon himself.

IT is, without doubt, an unnecessary ap­prehension, that a Christian Orator could ever suffer himself to advance, in the pulpit, an egotism so preposterous. It is always dan­gerous speak about oneself before a large assembly. We are even careful to avoid this absurdity in small companies; and it appears [Page 150]to me, that it was owing to good taste, as much as to Christian humility, that the word I was banished from the writings of Port-Royal.

THE Abbé de Fleury says, that the Histo­rian should himself be kept out of view in his narration, ‘so that the reader may not have leisure to reflect, whether the facts re­corded be written well or ill; whether they be written at all; whether he have a book in his hands; whether there be an author in the world. It is thus that Homer wrote.’ ^*

[Page 151] Now, if an Historian be not suffered to at­tempt to shew himself in his relations, doubt­less a Preacher ought to be more attentive to keep himself out of the view of his auditory.^*

[Page 152] THERE are occasions, however, when an O [...]ator becomes himself the subject of an argument, which interests the public, and when he may speak of himself, without being per­sonal. Where can I find a better example to illustrate this precept, than in the following passage of Fontenelle, in his treatise ‘of [...] Happiness;’ (a work written with distin­guished and vast precision:) ‘It is necessary, first of all, to investigate the pretensions of that which boasts of contributing to our happiness. Wherefore is this dignity I am pursuing so necessary for me?—It is so that I may have the pre-eminence before others. But wherefore should this be necessary?— [Page 153]That I may receive their respect and hom­age. But of what service to me is this homage and respect?—They will very much caress me. But in what estimation can I hold those caresses, which are paid to my dignity, and not to myself?’

IN thus making application to himself of a general maxim, the Christian Orator reasons in the name of his auditory. All other egot­ism is forbidden him.

BOSSUET affects me when he speaks of his white hairs. Bourdaloue penetrates me with a sacred veneration when he apologizes for his sermon "on Impurity," in his ‘homily of Magdalen.’ But it is the privilege of these great masters to fall into such sort of digres­sions; and yet they never allow themselves in them unnecessarily, nor without attaining a vigour of genius, which renders all excusable.

SECTION XLIII. Of Bourdaloue.

WHAT I am chiefly pleased with, and admire in Bourdaloue, is, his keeping himself out of sight; that, with a style too often sacrificed to declamation, he never strains Christian duties, never converts simple [Page 154]advices into positive precepts, but his morality is such as can always be reduced to practice. It is the inexhaustible fertility of his plans which are never alike, and the happy talent of arranging his arguments with that order of which Quintilian speaks, when he compares the merit of an Orator, who composes a dis­course, to the skill of a general, who com­mands an army;^* it is that accurate and forcible logic, which excludes sophisms, con­tradictions, paradoxes; it is the art with which he establishes our duty upon our in­terest, and that valuable secret, which I sel­dom see, but in his sermons, of converting the recital of conversations into proofs of his subject; it is that redundancy of genius, which, in his discourses leaves nothing far­ther to be supposed, although he composed at least two, often three, sometimes even four sermons on the same subject, without our even knowing, after having read them, to which to give the preference; it is the sim­plicity of a style, nervous and affecting, nat­ural and noble; the profoundest knowledge of religion; the admirable use which he makes of the Scriptures, and of the Fathers; these are the talents, which never permit me to think of this great man, without saying to myself, ‘See then, to what an elevation genius may be raised, when it is invigorated by [Page 155]study!’ What can be more beautiful and inimitable in Christian Eloquence, than the first parts of the sermons of Bourdaloue "on the Conception," "the Passion," and "the Resurrection!^*

SECTION XLIV. Of Massillon.

HIS rival MASSILLON seldom hath sublime strokes; but if he be inferior in his peculiar fame as an Orator, he is, doubtless, [Page 156]of the first rank as a writer. No one has carried the excellence of style to a higher degree of perfection. He attended to this branch of Eloquence to the latest period of his life.

THERE were found in his port-folio, after his death, twelve transcripts of his sermons, which he revised with unwearied pains after his advancement to the episcopacy, and which of course, have never been delivered from the pulpit, such as we now read them.

MASSILLON retained in his old age all the purity of his taste, although he had lost the vivacity of his imagination. He then em­ployed himself much more upon the style than upon the main points of his discourses; but he was always unwilling to revise his course of Lent Sermons, ^* which he had writ­ten at first with much care; and I do not mean to attack the glory of the immortal Massillon, I intend, on the contrary, to ren­der him fresh homage, in boldly advancing, that [...]his, which has for a long time been quoted as his chief work, appears to me one of his feeblest rhetorical productions.

MASSILLON'S plans are all alike; and, be­sides this sameness which is so perceptible, when we read his sermons in succession, he generally confines himself to combat excuses, [Page 157]and perhaps does not sufficiently search be­forehand into the bottom of his subjects.

HE was born with very great talents for Eloquence; but, he was not sufficiently stu­dious in his youth. He depended too much upon his quickness of parts; and we may say respecting him, what the Roman Orator said of Piso, ‘As much as he withheld from application, so much he diminished his glory.’ ^* Yes, it is my admiration of him; it is my reading him over and over, every day, with delight, that emboldens me to apply to him the charge, which Cardinal de Retz brought against the great Condé, when he blames him for ‘not having merited all that he might.’ ^†

How superior would Massillon really have been to himself, were all his sermons as elo­quent and perfect as his "Ecclesiastical Con­ferences;" his discourses "on the Forgive­ness of Enemies;" "on the death of a Sinner;" "on Confession;" "on the Di­vinity of Jesus Christ;" "on the Mixture of the Righteous and the Wicked;" his homily "of the Prodigal Son," &c! In these we have Massillon's most masterly perform­ances; it is here we discover all his genius; [Page 158]while we regret that he hath not bestowed more time upon the composition of his other works.^*

THIS excellent writer, misled by his co­piousness, frequently fails in not sufficiently enriching his beautiful style with ideas; and he would unquestionably lose much of his celebrity, were he to be judged according to this maxim of Fenelon; ‘a good discourse is that from which nothing can be retrenched without cutting into the quick.^†’

MASSILLON'S arguments are sometimes des­titute of regularity, of energy, perhaps even of the solidity which he was so capable of giving them.

COULD it be believed, that, in his sermon "on the Certainty of a future State," which is, in other respects, full of beauty and energy, Massillon seriously refutes, and more than once, the frivolous objection, that another state of existence is incredible, because no one ever returned from it? The French Ora­tor, so styled by way of pre-eminence, Bossu­et, hath also deigned to take notice of this [Page 159]plea of sinners, who would call for miracu­lous apparitions, not to convince them of the soul's immortality, but to determine their conversion. One expression at the close of the funeral Oration for Queen Henrietta (the most pathetic of all his discourses) suffices him to confute, by a sublime stroke, this ab­surd demand. It were to be wished, that Massillon had often copied this boldness of the pencil! ‘Do we expect God to raise the dead in order to instruct us? It is by no means necessary that the dead return, nor that any one rise out of the grave; that which to day descends into the tomb might be sufficient to convert us.’

SECTION XLV. Of Saurin.

WE sometimes discover such passages after the manner of Bossuet, in the sermons of the Pastor SAURIN, whom we ought to insert at the head of Preachers of the second class.^*

[Page 160] THE first part of his discourses generally consists of a commentary upon his text. In my opinion, all his critical discussions upon history, grammar, or chronology, are ex­tremely different from E [...]oquence.

BESIDES, the shew of erudition, with which Saurin imposes on so many of his readers, ought not to be held of any account, even if all this scientific dress were not mistimed, in­asmuch as it is no very difficult task to copy commentators, or to translate [...]issertations.

ON this account, therefore, when you read Saurin, do not stop short at any of the first parts of his discourses. This manner of writ­ing, which, at the beginning of this century, was called "the Refugeé style," has been charged against him on substantial grounds. He uses a translation of the Bible, which was made immediately after the separation of the Protestant churches; and this old language, contrasted with his modern Eloquence, im­parts to his style a savage and barbarous air. I might quote examples, if his sermons were not so diffuse.

SAURIN, however, writes with ardour and vehemence. He doth not make an ostenta­tions show of wit; he doth not lose sight of his auditory; he forcibly urges his argu­ments; he knows when to insist upon them; he is moved, and he inflames. He hath the [Page 161]merit of [...]eing a natural Orator: and, he would have acquired the taste in which he is deficient, i [...] he had joined, to the study of examples, the residence of Paris.

No Christian Orator, after Bossuet, (to whom there can be none compared when speaking of Pulpit-Eloquence) hath laboured more carefully or successfully the perorations of his discourses. In them, Saurin always recalled the idea of death. This object ren­ders them as solemn as they are affecting. They commonly consist of repetitions; and this return of the same set of expressions is very proper, when making the application of a sermon to the different classes of hearers. It is by this figure, that he recapitulates his proofs; and then he points to the open grave, as if the listening congregation, ready to de­scend into it, were not thenceforward to hear any other instruction, or rather, as if he him­self were preaching for the last time.

THE sermons of Saurin, ‘on the wisdom of Solomon,’ and ‘on the discourse of St. Paul to Felix and Drusilla,’ appear to me the master-pieces of this Orator.

IT is commonly supposed, that he never allowed himself to make use of declamations against the church of Rome; but I appre­hend that fanaticism cannot break out more passionately, than in his sermons on ‘the [Page 162]dedication of the church of Woorburg;’ on "the afflictions of the church;" on "the [...] incomprehensibility of God;" on ‘the fast; observed before the campaign of 1706.’

SAURIN is transformed. He rises to the level of Demosthenes, when he speaks of the emigration of the Protestants; above all, when he thunders against Louis XIV. He is never more eloquent, nor more sublime, than when wasting his fury against this mon­arch, whose name perpetually recurs in his discourses, and, principally, in the sermons, which I am about to quote.

THIS apostrophe is well known; ‘and thou formidable Prince, whom I once hon­oured as my king, and whom I still regard as the scourge of the Lord,’ &c. Saurin finishes this passage by saying, that he for­gives Louis XIV; but he does not attempt to impress this insulting moderation on the minds of the people of Holland. It is, per­haps, in the pulpit of Saurin, where have been fabricated the arms of Hochstet, of Malpla­quet, and Ramillies; and where that impla­cable resentment hath been produced, which presided at the conferences of Gertruidemberg.

NEVER did an Orator conceive any thing more daring than the dialogue of Saurin be­tween God and his auditory, in his sermon "on the fast of 1706." "My people," saith [Page 163]the most High ‘my people, what have I done unto thee?" "Ah, Lord! how ma­ny things hast thou done unto us!—the ways of Zion covered with mourning," &c. Answer, and hear witness here against the Eternal.’

THE long enumeration of the afflictions of the Protestants, which precedes these last words, gives them an energy, which causes one to tremble, at the very moment when Saurin pauses, in order to vindicate the ways of Providence.^*

IN his sermon "on the contempt of life," he falls into a digression, which, at first, ap­pears whimsical, but which presently intro­duces a sublime passage. ‘An author has published a book with a very singular title; this title is Rome subterranean; a title full [Page 164]of instruction and truth, teaching that Rome which strikes the senses, that there is another Rome of dead people, another Rome under ground, a natural image of that, which liv­ing Rome must one day be. My brethren, I present unto you this day a similar object; I present unto you your Republic, not such as you see it, composed of sovereigns, of generals, of the heads of families; this is merely the surface of your Repblic. But I would describe before you the interior, the Republic subterranean—for there is another Republic under your feet, Descend there —survey those sepulchres which are in the heart of the earth. Let us lift up the stone. Whom do we see there?—My God! what in­habitants! what citizens! what a republic!’

THE same Orator who wrote this passage so full of vivacity and enthusiasm, sometimes suffered his genius to cool, and then he adopted the forms of expression, which are used in solving geometrical problems.

WE even find in one of his discourses a pretty long arithmetical calculation; it is, I believe, the only example of this sort, which the Eloquence of the pulpit affords.^*

[Page 165] THE following is to be found in his sermon on "the numbering of our days."

YES, I shall be able, without doubt, to comprehend this scale of mortality, while ascertaining the combination of Saurin at leisure; in a book, wherein I can trace them at sight: but how shall I lay hold of these arithmetical deductions in a pulpit, where the rapidity of the delivery admits of no abstract mental operations?

THIS singular calculation ought not, there­fore, to find room in a sermon, solely intend­ed to be preached in a church.

BESIDES, the strength which this reasoning appears to have at first sight is not sufficiently forcible to intimidate hardened sinners. Sau­rin [Page 167]acknowledges, that fifty years after the day wherein he speaks, there will still remain upon the earth seventy of his hearers: now, however little we may know of the human heart, we apprehend, that there was not, per­haps, one individual of these eighteen hun­dred persons, who did not flatter himself with being of this small number, and, consequent­ly, who did not regard death as still at too great a distance to hasten his conversion.

SECTION XLVI. Of English Eloquence.

INFERIOR as Saurin is to our great mas­ters, he is in the same proportion superior to English preachers.

Mr. HUME expressly acknowledges,^* that England hath made less improvement in this kind of Eloquence, than in the other branches of literature. In fact, although this nation hath produced some eloquent writers, at the head of whom we ought to reckon the immor­tal RICHARDSON;^† she hath not, as yet one[Page 168]single Orator who can do honour to his coun­try in Europe.s^*

IN this celebrated Island, we sometimes discover amongst its inhabitants rhetorical [Page 169]strokes; but they know not the art, properly so called, of Eloquence; and it would even seem, that they do not consider it of much value.

[Page 170] A STUDIED discourse would not be listened to in parliament, where weighty discussions only are expected, without the artifice of a premeditated style. You will discover much [Page 171]more of the remains of Roman Eloquence in the Diets of Poland, than in the debates of Westminster.

SUBLIME ideas are uttered by every man, whose mind is warmed; but it is a progres­sive [Page 172]method, it is a well supported elocution, it is a sound judgment, it is an excellent and varied diction; in fine, it is the perfection of language, united to the sublimity of thought, which distinguishes Eloquence.

[Page 173] THE Boor of the Danube as hath been already remarked by many critics, ought not to be reckoned amongst Orators, although his conversation may be cited as a pattern of energy and vehemence.

THERE is nothing of this sort, which may be denominated the Eloquence of a stroke, more worthy of admiration, than the answer of the fugitive Marius, when a Lictor came to command him, by the authority of the Roman Praetor, to depart from Africa. This great man, [...]ired with indignation to find himself ungratefully treated in adversity, by a magistrate who abused his authority, said to the slave who made known to him this cruel order, ‘Go, tell thy master, that thou hast seen Caius Marius banished from his country, and sitting upon the ruins of Car­thage;’ "as if," says the Abbé Verto [...] ‘by the comparison of his personal disgraces with the fall of the powerful Carthaginian empire, Marius had intended to teach the Roman Praetor the instability of the high­est condition.^*’

[Page 174] THE English can boast of some strokes of this kind, although far inferior to the answer of Marius.

WHEN the parliament of Great-Britain in­tended to pass a bill, which denied to persons accused on a criminal account the privilege of defending themselves by the help of coun­sel, Lord BOLINGBROKE, who was against this intended law, attempted to oppose it; but, intimidated by the assembly before which he was speaking, he could not articulate a sylla­ble, and the words he attempted to utter were at every breath dying away on his lips; when, making an extraordinary effort, he cried out, ‘You wish, Gentlemen, that the accused should appear before you in order to de­fend themselves. If your presence hath imposed silence upon me, judge of the im­pression which it would produce upon the unfortunate, who should behold in you judges ready to send them to the scaffold.’ This single reflection, unquestionably more eloquent than all the arguments which Lord Bolingbroke could have alleged, caused the rejection of this new design.

Mr. CHARLES FOX, who is, in the present day, considered as the most eloquent man of Great-Britain, pronounced, in parliament, the eulogium of the late General Montgomery: one of the court-party interrupted him in [Page 175]these words, ‘How dare you praise a rebel before the representatives of the nation?" I will not refrain,’ Mr. Fox immediately replied, ‘from repelling the outrage done to the memory of a great man. You all know the meaning of the word rebel in the mouth of my adversaries. If you have any doubts of the true sense of this expression, I would entreat you to recollect, that it is to these pretended rebellions we owe our present constitution, and the privilege of being assembled at Westminster to deliberate up­on the interests of our country.^*’

[Page 176] THESE are specimens, which would be no discredit to the writings of Demosthenes. But a sublime idea does not constitute a discourse; a beautiful, detached passage does not compose the art of Eloquence.

EVEN until the present period, the value of English Orators is restrained within narrow bounds. Famous Islanders! ‘It is not genius, it is the genius of Oratory, that you want,’ may we say to you, as Cicero did formerly to some of his contemporaries.^*

THE human mind owes an unceasing debt of gratitude for your sublime discoveries on light, on gravitation, on electricity, on the aberration of the stars; but, let not your pride be wounded, if we contest the pre­eminence with your Orators. Eloquence, the usual companion of liberty, is a stranger in your country. Do not affect a false and barbarous contempt of gifts which nature [Page 177]hath denied you. Turn your attention to the models of antiquity, and to the examples of Greece and Rome. Add to the glory of the good actions, which are so common in your country, the merit perhaps, no less hon­ourable, of knowing how to celebrate them.

I MEAN to set bounds to myself in this dis­cussion. I shall not speak of the discourses of BOYLE,^* which are entirely argumentative dissertations. I shall not detain myself with the sermons of CLARKE;^† they are written [Page 178]with such metaphysical abstraction, that it is difficult to comprehend in the retirement of the closet the discourses of this well known rector of St. James's.

SECTION XLVII. Of Tillotson.

THE Eloquence of TILLOTSON, Arch­bishop of Canterbury, is highly esteem­ed. I have read his sermons with the strictest impartiality, and these are my sentiments of the works of this Prelate, who is universally, regarded as the first Orator of England.

[Page 179] TILLOTSON is an excellent writer. His principal merit consists in the style. He must, therefore, be much injured by a translation, in which the vernacular expression is lost, and especially by such a translator as Barbeyrac, who was always deficient in sublimity, in embellishment, in energy, and in elegance. But, while we acknowledge all the faults of this French version, the subject-matter of the Archbishop of Canterbury's sermons still re­mains far inferior to the discourses of Massil­lon and Bourdaloue.^*

TILLOTSON is more of a theologian than a moralist. He scarcely ever discussed any oth­er than controversial subjects. He employs the same dull modes of syllogism or disserta­tion; and merely habituates himself to an insipid uniformity of method.

I DISCOVER in his discourses no rhetorical movements, no great ideas, no sublime strokes: he generally divides every paragraph, and has thirty or forty subdivisions in each of his ser­mons. His particulars are insipid, futile, and often devoid of excellence. In short, [Page 180]Tillotson is so much a stranger to the art of Eloquence, that he scarcely ever makes an exordium or a peroration. Is this, then, the Orator whom they are bold enough to put in competition with our French preachers?^*

BUT, not to confine ourselves to indefinite criticism, let us hasten to substantiate the grounds of our opinion.

IN his sermon on ‘Prejudices against Re­ligion,’ Tillotson starts an objection, drawn from the opposition which man finds between his duty and his inclinations.^† This objec­tion he copies from the tragedy of Mustapha, by Fulke, lord Brooke, from which, he recites in the pulpit a series of verses. Is a quota­tion of this sort worthy of the majesty of a church?^‡ "The passions," he adds, ‘are a [Page 181]kind of glue, fastening us to things low and terrestrial.^{* †} Scarcely can one pass in the streets, I speak of it from experience, with­out having his ears assailed with such horrible oaths and imprecations, as would be suffi­cient to ruin a nation, were it guilty of no other crime: and they are not merely ser­vants, who break out into such blasphemous [Page 182]conversation; it proceeds also from the mouth of their masters.’ ^{‡ §}

ELSEWHERE, in order to prove that the mysteries of religion ought to be believed, although we can never comprehend them with mathematical evidence, Tillotson ex­presses himself in this manner; ‘we eat, we drink, every day, although, in my opinion, no one can demonstrate that his baker, his brewer, or his cook, have not put poison into the bread, the beer, or the meat.^‖’

IN this manner did Tillotson perform the ministry of the word in the age of Dryden, Addison, Waller, Milton; and before that same Charles II. who had heard in his child­hood the most illustrious French Orators.^¶

[Page 183] O LOUIS XIV! What wouldst thou have thought, if the ministers of the altar had ad­dressed such language to thee in the midst of thy court! What would have been thy sur­prise, [Page 184]if thine ear, accustomed to the dignified accents of Bossuet, to the elevated and ener­getic tone of Bourdaloue, to the insinuating melody of Maisillon, had been assailed with this gross and barbarous elocution? With what indignation wouldst not thou have blushed for thy country? But thou hadst the skill of imparting to all the arts the dignity of thy character; under thy happy auspices, all the various kinds advanced towards per­fection. Thou broughtest forth to view Ora­tors worthy of speaking in the name of the Eternal and never shall the eloquence of thine age be surpassed!

TILLOTSON writes with as little moderation as dignity.

[Page 185] IN every page of his discourses we perceive the fanaticism of a Protestant, who is solicit­ous to please the populace.

TOWARDS the conclusion of his sermon "on the love of our neighbour," he makes a sort of recapitulation, with a view to apply the moral of his subject to the church of Rome. Who would not suppose, that a subject, so affecting, would inspire him with tender, and even generous, sentiments? Observe, how­ever, the consequence he draws, after having largely proved the necessity of loving all men: ‘Whenever we speak of charity, and of the obligation of loving one another, we cannot avoid thinking of the Church of Rome; but she must recur to our minds, particularly at this time, when she hath made so fresh a discovery, and in a manner so well authenticated, of the regard she hath for us, by the merciful plot contrived against us (the pretended plot of 1678;) such a plot, as may make the ears of all who hear it related to tingle, render Pope­ry an eternal disgrace, and cause it to be regarded with horror and execration even to the end of the world.’ ^{* †} What style! [Page 186]what sentiments! what candour! what lo­gic!^‡

LET none, however, suppose, that, by adopting a method too familiar for critics, I am searching after some careless passages in the Archbishop of Canterbury's sermons, in order to pass sentence upon him, only for his faults. I have read the whole collection of his discourses. I have extracted thence many quotations of the same kind; and it would cost me no more than the trouble of trans­cribing them, were I not afraid of fatiguing the reader, and if the examples which I have adduced were not sufficient to determine his judgment.

SECTION XLVIII. Of Barrow, Young, Maddox, &c. State of Pulpit-Eloquence among the English.

I SHOULD have too many advantages if I were to investigate the merit of the ser­mons of BARROW,^* another Orator whom the English esteem and praise, although, by their own acknowledgment, he be far inferior to Tillotson.

[Page 188] I AM not acquainted with the sermons of YOUNG, in which we should, doubtless, dis­cover that plaintive poetry, that depth of sen­timent, and even those eccentric ideas, which the pensive Pastor of Welwyn collected to­gether in his nocturnal meditations. But Young does not appear to me to have had an imagination sufficiently pliable and versatile for the Eloquence of the pulpit.

THE preachers of Charles II. who hap­pened to hear Bourdaloue at Paris, have but faintly imitated him; and even now, when his sermons are spread through the whole of Europe, the revolution, which they ought to produce in Christian Eloquence, hath not, as yet, taken place amongst the English.^* [Page 189]

[Page 190] THE Bishop of Worcester^* in 1752, preach­ed a sermon on ‘Inoculation for the Small Pox,’ which hath been frequently printed at London, and since translated into French.

[Page 191] IT is asserted, that this discourse influenced the public benevolence to endow an Hospital for Inoculation.

IF, indeed, the Bishop of Worcester hath participated this kind of glory with Vincent de Paul, it must be acknowledged, that Elo­quence could not obtain a more excellent triumph. This sermon is an interesting dis­sertation, and new as to its object; but the prelate, who delivered it, will never be placed in the rank of Orators.

DESTITUTE of imagination, and of sensi­bility, he wanders into abstract calculations respecting population; into low details about the secondary fever; and, after having ex­hausted all those combinations, certainly more suited to a medicinal school than a Christian assembly, he quotes the testimonies and au­thority of Messrs. Ranby, Hawkins, and Mid­dleton, surgeons of London, of whom he speaks with as much veneration as if they were Fathers of the church.

THE more we read foreign Orators, the more we perceive the pre-eminence of the French preachers.

THE Spaniards and Germans are yet in the rudiments of Christian Eloquence. Father SEIGNERY has been for some time extolled as the Bourdaloue of Italy. He hath been [Page 192]translated. His most zealous partisans have given him up. How, indeed, can we admire ridiculous passages and popular fables, which we should scarcely tolerate in instructions to country villagers?

SECTION XLIX. Of M. Thomas, and the Revolution which he effected in the Style of rhetorical Composition.

NOTWITHSTANDING the superiority of the models, which the age of Louis XIV. hath furnished, as well as the distinguished talents of many writers, who devoted them­selves to the ministry of the gospel, Eloquence seemed to be buried in the tomb with Massil­lon.

MOST of the preachers, who succeeded him, were desirous of opening to themselves a new road, where they had, at first, brilliant suc­cess, for which they have since severely suf­fered. They invented an affected and effem­inate jargon, and, by dint of labour, they rendered themselves unintelligible. Ah! wherefore did they wish to banish simplicity? Was it because they were ignorant that one of the secrets of rhetorical composition con­sists [Page 193]in making use of those lively, natural, and varied modes of expression, which are adopted in conversation, in addition to such a selection of words as may be always excel­lent, without ever being far-fetched?^*

A WANT of genius, however, is not what we can charge upon these corrupters of Christian Eloquence, unless we should be of opinion, that, owing to their deficiency in this respect, they discovered too strong an affectation of it. They wrote without animation or fire; they confounded the gift of persuasion with the art of dazzling; and, after having per­verted the taste of the public, they have succeeded in exciting an admiration of their faults.

[Page 194] ELOQUENCE, become a stranger to the works of learned men, was still cultivated by a small number of real Orators, whom popular opinion placed far below all those fashionable declaimers. But, in the history of the arts there are remarkable epochs, when a superior writer recals the public attention towards those methods which have been abandoned, and draws along with him a number, who follow him in the course in which he himself has excelled.

SUCH is the glory, which M. THOMAS hath had among us. He contributed to the for­tunate revolution, which has renewed the taste in Oratory for panegyrics: in these, he hath displayed as much Eloquence, as Fontenelle had discovered of penetration.^* He inspired the most lively enthusiasm for great men. He improved the mind by the excellence of his sentiments. He directed his discourses to an useful object. He, in a particular man­ner, promoted the utility of his writings by collecting them together, and enriching them with his "Essay on Panegyrics." The works of the eulogist of Marcus Aurelius ought to be ever dear to us by so interesting and un­usual a conjunction of erudition, genius and virtue.

SECTION L. Of the Use of the Holy Scriptures.

THE style, which M. Thomas cultivated, possesses much of that manner, so well adapted for the pulpit, by the elevation of the ideas, and the moral strain, which is gen­erally to be found in them. Do we wish to see the example of this writer become service­able to preachers? Let us recollect, that, in the corruption of Eloquence, the language of Religion was forgotten; and that, in order to impart to our ministry its former lustre, we must, at once, become Orators, and Christian Orators.

IT is by incessantly reading the Holy Scriptures, that we learn to speak that spiri­tual language, which diffuses through a ser­mon, representations alternately affecting, majestic, or terrible.

LET us never consider it as a painful re­straint, that we are happily bound to incor­porate the sacred writings into our composi­tions. The Bible is for the style of preach­ers, that which mythology is for the Elocu­tion of poets. In the sacred volumes, there are to be found thoughts so sublime, expres­sions so energetic, descriptions so eloquent, [Page 196]allegories so well chosen, sentences so pro­found, ejaculations so pathetic, sentiments so tender, that we should adopt them from taste, if we were so unhappy as not to search after them from a principle of zeal and piety.^*

[Page 197] A CHRISTIAN Orator may, and even ought to, seize upon all the riches, which he discovers in these divine books. It is there where plagiarism is permitted him, and the more treasures he draws from thence, the better are his auditors pleased with his thefts.

QUOTATIONS from inspired authors be­come authorities, which render the ministry of a Christian Orator more venerable; and witnesses, which he derives from heaven or hell, in order to instruct the earth.

WOE! Woe to him, if he be ashamed of the gospel, at the very time when he is [Page 198]preaching it, and if, from an indecent and criminal complaisance, he dare not name Jesus Christ in that pulpit, where he comes to occupy his place!

AN abundance of new and unknown beau­ties still remain in the Holy Scriptures to excite the preacher's emulation.

WHATEVER be the thought which he wishes to express, he will always find the primary idea, at least, in the books of Revelation, if he have sufficient zeal to read them daily, and sufficient discernment properly to under­stand them. When searching for a passage which he wants, he thereby discovers other passages, which he reserves for the subjects to which they are adapted. But he ought only to make use of striking quotations; because it is not necessary to speak the language of inspiration, in order to say common things.

THE preacher may derive from the Bible historical comparisons, the only ones which are suitable for the style of the pulpit, where they always succeed; and those analogies present themselves involuntarily to an Ora­tor, who has grown familiar with the sacred books.

MASSILLON excels in this respect. You will find, in all his discourses, sometimes very short comparisons, which throw light upon [Page 199]his idea, and, at other times, comparisons of greater length, which form admirable frames, in which he incloses the picture of morals.

SUCH is that rhetorical turn, which he em­ploys in his sermon "on the Word of God," when he attacks that common abuse of at­tending upon religious instruction, only with a view of depreciating the talents of the Preacher. Massillon makes a particular ap­plication to his hearers of the reproach, which Joseph addressed, in disguise, to his brethren: ‘It is not to seek for bread, that ye are come into Egypt; ye are come here as spies; to observe the weak places of this country ye are spies; to see the nakedness of the land are ye come. ^*’

THE same Orator also avails himself of this figure, in his sermon upon "Backsliding," when he paints the situation of the sinner, who, after having been recovered, finally relapses into his criminal habits: Massillon compares him to the image of Dagon, which, having been thrown down before the ark, was forthwith replaced upon the altar by the priests of the Philistines; ‘but the idol hav­ing fallen a second time, useless efforts were made to restore this mutilated statue, which remained stretched out upon the earth, and forever immoveable; only the [Page 200]stump of Dagon was left to him.’ ^* The ap­plication of the fate of Dagon to the destiny of sinners, furnishes Massillon with admirable elucidations, which he would never have thought of without this allusion.^†

THE Abbé BOISMONT, whose success has been so brilliant in the career of Christian Eloquence, and principally in the species of funeral Oration, has made a very ingenious use of a passage of sacred writ, in his Eulo­gium of Louis XV.

HE begins with recalling all the misfortunes of France, from the beginning of this centu­ry, until the wise and prosperous Ministry of Cardinal de Fleury; and, in describing the changes which took place at this period in Administration, all the branches of which had been disgraced by abuses of long standing, he rises to the tone of Bossuet: ‘Louis said to Cardinal de Fleury, as formerly the Lord God to the Prophet Ezekiel, Breathe upon these slain that they may live. ^‡ The spirit of life suddenly enters into the dry and withered bones. A gentle but power­ful [Page 201]motion is communicated to all the members of this vast wasted body; all the parts reunite, and adapt themselves to each other: and the bones came together, bone to its bone.’

IN this funeral Oration, there are many admirable traits, equally sublime, and pic­tures of the finest Eloquence, worthy of the Orator, who had deservedly obtained univer­sal applause, in his celebration of the Queen and the Dauphin.

SECTION LI. Of the Fathers of the Church.

CHRISTIAN Orators! Ye are the Minis­ters of the word of GOD; ye ought, therefore, to draw the substance of your dis­courses from the sacred books, and to speak the language of the invisible Preacher, whom ye represent. If it be true that your lips are the depositories of science, how will ye be instructive, if ye be not yourselves instructed? Ye will at best preach a morality merely hu­man; ye will never, when discoursing on divine truths, impart to your style the energy of apt expression, if, to the study of the sacred [Page 202]volumes, ye do not join the reading of tra­dition.

FENELON, in his ‘Dialogues concerning Eloquence,’ hath characterized, with equal precision and taste, the Fathers of the Greek and Latin Church; and the opinion of the Archbishop of Cambray ought to be law.^*

WE reckon among the Fathers, many very learned writers in profane antiquity, such as CLEMENT of Alexandria, ORIGEN, EUSEBIUS of Coesarca, JEROM, and AUGUSTINE.

I AM aware, that, in their writings, the pu­rity of style doth not always correspond with the extent of erudition, especially if we com­pare them with Cicero and Demosthenes. But, according to the judicious observation of the Abbé de Fleury^† when it is intended [Page 203]to appreciate the merits of the Fathers of the Church, we must not forget the time when, nor the country where, they lived; nor to contrast them with their most celebrated con­temporaries, AMBROSE, with SYMMACHUS; BASIL, with LIBANIUS; and then we perceive how much superior they have been to their age.

IT is not, however, requisite that a Preach­er should read all tradition. For this, his life would scarcely suffice. But, by making a selection of two or three Fathers of the church, the most consonant to his genius; by confin­ing himself, moreover, to their rhetorical writings, he will find in them ideas suffi­ciently striking to embellish and give weight to his sermons.

ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM is principally de­serving of having the choice of a Christian Orator fixed upon him. His diction is pure and splendid; his eloquence is tender and persuasive; and he abounds so much in sub­lime descriptions, or ingenious ideas, that we find passages to quote in every page of his writings.

POPE CLEMENT XI. who, during his Pon­tificate, preached yearly at Rome on Easter and Christmas days, and the feast of St. Peter, had the art of making an admirable use of Chrysostom's writings. His homilies are an [Page 204]excellent assemblage of the most striking thoughts and pathetic sentiments of the Fath­ers of the Church.^*

BOSSUET, who, himself, may be reckoned among the Fathers, and whom, in the pre­sent day, we quote in our sermons as we do them, sufficiently testifies, by his example, how advantageous it is for a Christian Orator to study the Fathers. He draws from their writings the most profound maxims, the most convincing arguments, sometimes even sub­lime [Page 205]comparisons, which enrich the Elo­quence of his discourses.

WHO would not be ambitious to have bor­rowed, as he did, this admirable description from S. AUGUSTINE, which represents the troubles of human life? ‘Worldings do not think that they use exercise, unless they disquiet themselves; nor that they move, unless they make a noise. That man, who is complaining of too much labour, were he delivered from that trouble, could not endure his repose. At one time, the day's work appears to him too short; at another time, his leisure would be to him a burden: he loves his servitude, and is pleased with his weight; and this constant impulse, which involves him in a thousand embar­rassments, prevents him from gratifying himself with the image of unrestrained lib­erty. As a tree, says St. Austin, which the wind seems to caress when sporting with its leaves and branches, although this wind only bends it with the agitation, and tosses it, sometimes on one side, sometimes on the other, with vast caprice; you would say, however, that the tree diverted itself with the freedom of its motions; in like man­ner," saith this great Bishop, "while the men of the world have no true liberty, be­ing almost always obliged to submit to vari­ous [Page 206]occupations, which impel them like a wind, they, nevertheless, imagine that they are playing with a certain air of liberty and peace, whilst giving indulgence to their vague and fluctuating desires.^*’

SECTION LII. Of Quotations from Profane Authors.

IT is sometimes allowable to quote, in the pulpit, the profane writers of antiquity, provided that such citations be not long, nor frequent, nor accompanied with historical relations foreign to religion.

OUR old preachers flattered themselves that they were very eloquent, when they had col­lected into one barbarous compilation, which they called a Christian discourse, some shreds of poetry, eloquence, or history.

THE author of "Pulpit-maxims," inge­niously compares those sermons blended with the principles of religion, and the maxims of Paganism, "to the Temple at Jerusalem built with the marble and cedars of king Hiram."

[Page 207] BUT it is no less certain, that Christian Eloquence doth not exclude heathen testi­monies, when the Orator is pointing out the duties of morality or the particulars of good conduct.

S. BASIL has composed a treatise, in order to prove the utility of reading heathen authors. Bossuet, whose learning equalled his elo­quence, drew, from time to time, out of those authors, sublime thoughts, which he quoted in the pulpit; and Bourdaloue, in his ser­mon on "the love of riches," hath paraphras­ed this maxim of Horace,

LET us not, however, make an improper use of these examples. We shall never be blamed for not having founded our proofs upon a profane authority; and we shall do an equal injury to piety and taste, if we relate ideas taken from heathens, when we can find them equally well, and perhaps better, ex­pressed in scripture, or in tradition.

SECTION LIII. Of the Studies of a Preacher.

I WILL not, then, read the Moralists, the Poets, and the Orators, of antiquity with a view of multiplying such heathen quota­tions, but rather, in order to know the human heart, and to form my taste upon the models of Eloquence. This study is more useful than the reading of sermons.

Is it your aim to excel in Christian Elo­quence? At first consult collections of ser­mons. But, when once you become conver­sant with them, shut those books; they would blunt your imagination, and thereby contract your ideas, although they may be filled with sublime passages.

AIM at original composition.^* Search for food to nourish your mind, without degrad­ing yourself to a level with plagiarists.

[Page 209] No spare time will remain for reading the sermons of others, when we ourselves apply in earnest to composition.

PREFER, then, to all those discourses, which have been consecrated by public admiration, works no less valuable to Eloquence, and much more profitable to the preacher. Such are FENELON'S Letters, in which this profound moralist points out every singular character, by the knowledge which he hath of the hu­man heart; the Works of the Abbé de FLEURY, who interests by his candour, astonishes by the universality of his knowledge, always engages when speaking of religion, because it is evident that the loves it, and displays, with­out ostentation, a boldness of reasoning, which is, in him, the necessary consequence of sin­cerity;^* some excellent books of PORT ROY­AL, [Page 210] ^* in which we recognize the voice of re­ligion, and the poetry of the sacred books; the Sinner's Guide, by GRENADE, in which he alarms the apprehensions of the wicked, and holds them, so to speak, suspended between the terrors of remorse, and of divine justice; the Imitation of JESUS CHRIST,^† a master-piece of simplicity and plainness, and ‘the best book, says Fontenelle, which can pro­ceed from the hand of man, seeing the gospel doth not come from thence;’ ^‡ in a word, the writings of FRANCIS DE SALIS, which breathe the most affecting piety, and where we should find still more pathos, were there somewhat less of wit.^§

SECTION LIV. Of Pathos.

IT is by this persuasive pathos; ^* it is by the language of the heart, that we discover a writer who makes it his practice to read those various works of piety; for it is this happy tal­ent of affecting, which, doubtless, constitutes the principal object of Christian Eloquence.

ALL men have not sufficient ability to lay hold of an ingenious idea; but all have souls capable of being affected with a weighty sentiment; and never are the hearers more universally attentive than when the Preacher becomes pathetic.^†

[Page 212] GUARD, however, against that affected sen­sibility, which betrays itself by the accents of the voice, without penetrating to the very bottom of the soul; and which is ready to die away in the ear of the auditor, when it derives no internal animation from the composition.

‘I REQUIRE not, say Cicero, a feigned compassion, not incentives to sorrow, but that which is real, flowing from the sighs of a wounded heart.’ ^*

AFTER a terrifying passage which has dis­tressed me, I wish the Orator to approach me again with affection; to revive my almost extinguished hopes; and, after having threat­ened me with an avenging God, to shew me a God, who pardoneth.

SECTION LV. Of the Pathos of Fenelon.

THAT is a charming and flowing Elo­quence, which, far from exciting violent agitations, gently insinuates itself into the soul, and there awakes the tenderest affec­tions; which is a succession of natural and moving sentiments, copiously diffusing them­selves, so that, when experienced, the Orator who inspires them is forgotten, and we sup­pose that we are conversing with ourselves. Each word increases the emotion, and pro­duces a certain sympathy, which affects and expands every heart.

SUCH is the Eloquence of Fenelon. The first part of his discourse ‘On the Consecra­tion of the Elector of Cologne,’ is written with the energy and sublimity of Bossuet; the second denotes a sensibility, which is pe­culiar to Fenelon. I shall only mention one example.

‘O PASTORS! far from you let the con­tracted heart be banished. Enlarge, en­large your bowels of affection. Ye know nothing, if ye are only acquainted with the voice of authority, reproof, of correction, [Page 214]and with pointing out the letter of the law. Be fathers; this is not sufficient: be moth­ers; travail in birth again till Jesus Christ be formed in the heart.’ ^*

SECTION LVI. Of other Pathetic Orators: Bourdaloue, Flavian, Las Casas, Cheminais, Ken, Grosvenor, Sterne, &c.

TO require of a Preacher discourses writ­ten entirely in the pathetic style would be to adopt very mistaken ideas of Christian [Page 215]Eloquence. It is dangerous to enlarge too much in affecting passages. ‘Commisera­tion, says Cicero, ought to be of short duration, for nothing dries up sooner than tears.’ ^* The effect is weakened when the auditor is suffered to remain too long in the same state, and when no relief to sensibility is admitted, nor any suspension to Eloquence.

LABOUR may render the style correct, for­cible, harmonious; but industry never pro­duces a true pathos; for the more it costs the Orator to be animated and pathetic, the more is his discourse cold and languishing. Besides, are all subjects susceptible of tender senti­ments? Our great masters, on some occa­sions, durst not venture to pursue this method, even when discussing subjects, which seem to border most upon sensibility.

[Page 216] BOURDALOUE has composed four different sermons upon the death of Jesus Christ, and yet he hath not made one single Good Friday sermon, of which the distinguishing character­istic should be to affect. His genius always led him to consider the history of the suffer­ings of the Son of God in another point of view; he, therefore, intimated to his hearers, that their shedding of tears was not the design he proposed. ‘Others have moved you to pity a hundred times,’ said he in his ex­ordium; ‘but, for my part, I am desirous of instructing you.’ Bourdaloue was, nevertheless, affecting: but he had the skill of placing, at proper intervals, those passages, which would no longer have had the effect of impressing the auditory, had he heaped them together.

THE most celebrated models of pathetic Eloquence are the address of FLAVIAN the Bishop^* to the Emperor Theodosius, in fa­vour of the inhabitants of Thessalonica; the supplication of the virtuous Prelate BAR­THOLOMEW [Page 217] [...] LAS CASAS^* to Philip II. [Ferdinand] against the murderers of the Mexicans; and the exhortation of CHEMINAIS in behalf of the prisoners.

[Page 218] THIS discourse of Cheminais is written with as much pathos as simplicity; but the ideas and strokes of Oratory are never raised so high as to reach the sublime. In it the style is adapted to the subject, without form­ing its principal merit.^*

CHEMINAIS'S manner of writing, so full of sweetness and tenderness, denotes the happiest talent. His sermons breathe a certain at­tractive and affectionate languor, which must ever give us occasion to regret, that this writer, otherwise enfeebled by habitual infirmities, had not lived long enough to finish his oratorial career.^†

SECTION LVII. Of the Peroration.

IF pathos be requisite in a Christian dis­course, it is undoubtedly in the Peroration. There, the Orator ought to set in motion all [Page 220]the springs of sensibility, and to strike the greatest strokes of Eloquence.

ALL moral subjects tend to pathetic con­clusions. The attention of the auditory, [Page 221]which always revives towards the close of the sermon, invites the Christian minister to finish instruction by moving and energetic repre­sentations, [Page 222]which may powerfully affect the conscience, and leave an indelible impression upon every mind.

SOME rhetoricians have laid it down as an established maxim in the art of Oratory, to recapitulate, in this part of the discourse, the principal arguments, and to offer an analy [...]i [...] of them.

I MAKE bold to object to this method, which neither Demosthenes nor Cicero ever followed.

IF this recapitulation of the proofs ought to terminate a discourse, ought it not espe­cially to be adopted at the Bar?

IT would be to no purpose to object to me here the example of Cicero, in his beau­tiful Oration against Verres. The Orator successively invokes, in his Peroration, all the gods and goddesses, whose temples this robber [Page 223]had pillaged, and, by this means, [...]e draws a more striking picture of his profanations. But what then i [...] are those sub [...]i [...]e apostro­phes an analysis of his pleading?

CICERO had proved, at the beginning, that Ver [...]es had no military genius, and that he was equally incapable of commanding a fle [...]t, or an army; he had afterwards gone over the excesses of his debaucheries his ava [...]ice, and his cruelties towards the Roman citizens, whom he caused to be crucified upon the coasts of Sicily their faces being turned from the Roman shore.

NOW Cicero omits all these outrages at the conclusion of his discourse, and only reproach­es the accused with his sacrileges.

IT is not, therefore, true, that the Roman Orator presents to his judges a summary [...] his speech in this Peroration.

OUR most illustrious Orators, when [...]cluding a sermon, never recapitulate th [...] and arguments of the subject.

MASSILLON, I confess, hastily runs over some of his ideas in the Peroration of his discourse, "on the certainty of a future state;" but he does not grow languid, when he touches upon the contradictions with which he charges the wicked; and he quickly extricates himself by some moving passages.

[Page 224] BESIDES, one single example should not suffice for establishing a general rule. What! ought we then to follow Massillon and Bour­daloue, when even they would be shackled by a proceeding so didactic and uniform? Who doth not perceive, that such sort of co­rollaries would leave both the preacher and the congregation unaffected?

THE Orator's conclusion must not be con­fined to simple speculative consequences. He has done nothing as yet when he has proved the truth of his principles. This is the point from which he should proceed, in order to subdue the passions, that the sinner may re­tain no excuse, and that conviction may bring him to repentance.

Now, that you may produce such effects, [...]ke leave of your proofs and your divisions, [...] be assured, that whatever is repeated, [...]ebles.

[...]IMENT upon some verses of a psalm [...] to your subject, and in the compunc­tion, or in the weaknesses of David point out the remorse and secret troubles of all. Ex­hort, instruct, confute, by varied repetitions, and such as may interest the feelings of the different classes, of which society is composed. Display all the strength of your genius to prove that happiness doth not consist in pica [...]ure, but in virtue.

[Page 225] WHAT, in short, shall I say to you? For­get method: forget art itself. Lift up your heart to God by an affectionate prayer. Be­come the intercessor on behalf of your audi­tory; and that the multitude, who resisted your threatenings, may be monstrained to yield to the effusions of your Christian charity.

SECTION LVIII. Of Memory.

YOU may, in vain, have received from nature, this happy gift of persuading and moving; in vain may you have brought your talent to perfection by the study of rules; you may attain to Eloquence in writing; still you would never speak like an eloquent man, if you were impeded in the delivery of your discourse by the treachery of your memory.

CICERO calls this faculty ‘the treasure of the soul;’ ^* and he always reckons it among the qualities essential to an Orator.

WHAT is not clearly understood is badly repeated; for, to a stiff pronunciation, which is already become too perceptible in Christian [Page 226]pulpits, there is added a want of freedom, which wearies the congregation.^*

WHEN once hearers experience this disgust, they are afraid of meeting with a similar em­barrassment, and never listen afterwards with­out uneasiness. Hence it follows, that a de­fect of memory, which is by no means inju­rious to the merit of the Orator, does infi­nite injury to the success of the discourse.

NEVER, therefore, consider the time lost, which you may devote to this mechanical study. It is not this time which you lose, but it is the labour of composition, which becomes fruitless, if you do not carefully make your­self master of a sermon on which you have bestowed much pains.^†

[Page 227] BOURDALOUE and Massillon, both of them born with treacherous memories, were obliged to have recourse to their manuscripts during almost the whole period of their exercising the sacred ministry; but they perceived at that time, with a degree of mortification, how much they diminished the pleasure, which people received in hearing them. The Bishop of Clermont, from thence, conceived such a dislike for the pulpit, that he was unwilling to mount it during the twenty-five last years of his life; and it is a fact, that, when urged one day to declare to which of his sermons he gave the preference, he very shrewdly re­plied, "to that which I know the best."^*

[Page 228] THE custom of repeating from memory hath brought forward in the road of sacred Eloquence, that multitude of preachers, who, through indolence, or defect of talents, deliv­er the sermons of others.

As for such, their ministerial labours are wholly confined to the painful and unpleasant task of imprinting in their memory discourses, which they have not had the trouble or the pleasure of composing. Memory equalizes all Christian Orators before the eyes of the people, and serves as a supplement to genius.

BUT this slight inconvenience may pro­mote religious instruction, without prevent­ing the improvement of the art of preaching; and it may be inferred, that he, who preaches the sermons of others, does so from an ina­bility to produce better himself.

SHOULD it ever be the case, that the min­isters of the gospel would wish to rest satisfied with reading religious instructions from the pulpit, their h [...]arers would become fewer, and their discourses less successful; for mem­ory refembles a sudden inspiration, whereas reading is only a cold communication.^*

SECTION LIX. Of the Action of an Orator.

AFTER a sermon has been composed, and even committed to memory, much still remains for the Orator to execute; for [Page 230]the success of the composition depends upon the manner of delivery.

THIS concluding particular ought to be the subject of a separate work.

[Page 231] THE ancients regarded delivery as a very considerable branch of the art of Oratory, and have carried this talent to a degree of perfection, of which we have no idea.

[Page 232] FOR such as are merely desirous to avoid the most common faults in declamation, the following are the principal precautions which ought to be adopted.

[Page 233] THEY should indulge a favourable hope of the success of their performance at the very moment of delivery, that they may speak without reluctance or uneasiness. They should be deeply penetrated with their sub­ject, and recal what passed in their mind while engaged in composition. They should diffuse throughout every part of the discourse the ardour with which they are animated. They should speak authoritatively, in order to arrest the attention of the hearers. They should avoid the declamation of an actor, and be cautious of introducing theatrical pantomime in the pulpit, which will never succeed. They should begin with pitching their voice at a proper medium, so that the [Page 234]tone may be capable of rising without pro­ducing discord, and of being lowered without becoming inaudible. They may be well assured, that the effect is lo [...]t, when they at­tempt to strain their voice to the highest pitch; that hawling repels attention instead of assisting it, and that the lower they sink their voice in pathetic passages, the better they are he [...]. They should not allow them­selves to make use of a multiplicity of ges­tures; and they should especially guard against laying an undue stress on a particular word in the general movement of a period. They should avoid all corporeal agitation, and never strike the p [...]lpit either with the feet or hands. They should vary the inflec­tions of their voice with each rhetorical figure, and their intonations with every para­graph. Let them [...]mitate the [...]pl [...] and im­pressive accents of nature, in deliver [...] as well as in composition. In a word, with the rapidity of utterance, they should blend pauses, which are always striking when but seldom used and properly timed.

SUCH are the innocent artifices, which a Christian Orator may render subservient to the success of his ministry.^*

[Page 235] BOURDALOUE'S action was very impressive, although he continually had his eyes shut when he was preaching.

MASSILLON spoke also with much autho­rity, but scarcely made use of any action.

THE Abbé POULLE and the Abbé RENAUD, and Orator of older standing, have united, to their other talents, action of a higher qual­ity; and there is no preacher of this century who has been able to equal them in this re­spect.

IT is an excellent method to revise a ser­mon as soon as it has been preached. The pulpit discovers its beauties and its faults; and, provided the Orator is skilful to remark the impression that the discourse makes upon the auditory, it is easy for him to observe the weak or prolix passages, which require to be improved.

LET him, then, pass judgment upon him­self when quitting the pulpit, less by the report of others, than by his own observa­tions.

SECTION LX. Of Motives to excite the Emulation of Christian Orators.

I AM aware that these multiplied correc­tions occasion very painful labour to Christian preachers. Nevertheless, that which is really disheartening and seriously alarming to us in our ministry, is neither the study, which composition requires, nor the restric­tion, which memory imposes on us; but the discouragements increasing as we grow old in our profession▪ the lassitude, which per­petually attends the repetition of sermons, no longer delivered but with reluctance; the certainty of discovering faults continually in our discourses, and of finding ourselves, thus, not only very much on this side perfection, but even below the level of our own abilities; and, above all, the indifference of our age for religion. Hence it is, that persons attend to religious instruction, as they would to a pro­fane spectacle; that they are desirous of re­ducing our zeal to the sacrifice of the most important truths, and the most forcible Elo­quence, to I know not what frivolous subject, or rhetorical flowers; and that, in fine, it seems as if it were expected of us to degrade [Page 237]ourselves, both as Apostles and Orators, in order to please the multitude.

THESE draughts are, no doubt, bitter. It is, however, necessary to swallow them, should we only succeed in reclaiming one wicked man to virtue, of preserving one wretched man from despair; in a word, of preventing one single crime from the earth.

AH! what more can be necessary in order to quicken our ardour? Is there a virtuous and feeling mind, that can despise such a de­lightful reward?

WE shall have fulfilled the end of our vocation, when we render ourselves useful to men; in their felicity we shall receive an in­demnification for all our sacrifices: the pleas­ing remembrance of our youthful labours will serve to delight the solitude, and to console the inactivity, of our advanced years; and, when Death sahll lay his heavy hand upon our eye-lids, we shall each be able to say to that great GOD, whose laws we have publish­ed ‘O my Father! thou hast given me thy children to instruct. I restore them to thee better. Remember all the blessings, which thou hast poured upon thy people, through the instrumentality of thy ministering ser­vant. Let the tears, which I have dried up, the tears, which I have excited when [Page 238]pleading in thy name, plead with thee on my behalf. I have been the instrument of thy clemency: make me hereafter the ob­ject of thy tender mercies.’

EVERY other inducement, doubtless, dwin­dles to a point before these great objects.

IF it were allowable, when entering upon this course of life, to hold human encourage­ments in any degree of estimation, I should say, without dread of contradiction, that, with a view of reviving the relish for Evan­gelical [...]oquence, the same means are made use of among us, which excited so successful an emulation in the excellent days of the age of Louis XIV.

NEVER, in the record of ecclesiastical pre­ferments, have Christian Orators found a more distinguished attention paid to their labours, nor a more marked good will to reward their talents.

AFTER having, in this manner, unfolded the ideas, which have arisen in my own mind, on the subject of Eloquence, I am not afraid of being charged with having sacrisiced the rules of taste to the purposes of my own vanity.

THE theories of individuals are, for the most part, only indirect apologies for the compositions of their authors; and, despair [Page 239]of equalling the ancient models, often gives rise to extravagant systems.

BUT if my rhetorical writings be inferior to my theory, I can, at least, willingly bear this testimony, from the bottom of my heart, that, in deriving the Principles of Eloquence from nature, or from the chief performances of our greatest masters, I have been actuated by no other motive than a warm attachment to truth, and the most earnest solicitude to contribute to the advancement of science.