Lectures on rhetoric and belles lettres: By Hugh Blair, ... In three volumes. ... [pt.2]

LECTURE XXIX. ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT.

BEFORE treating of the structure and component parts of a regular Oration, I purposed making some observations on the peculiar strain, the distinguishing cha|racters, of each of the three great kinds of Public Speaking. I have already treated of the Eloquence of Popular Assemblies, and of the Eloquence of the Bar. The subject which remains for this Lecture is, the strain and spirit of that Eloquence which is suited to the Pulpit.

LET us begin with considering the ad|vantages, and disadvantages, which belong to this field of Public Speaking. The Pul|pit has plainly several advantages peculiar to itself. The dignity and importance of its subjects must be acknowledged superior to any other. They are such as ought to

interest every one, and can be brought home to every man's heart; and such as admit, at the same time, both the highest embellishment in describing, and the greatest vehemence and warmth in enforcing them. The Preacher has also great advantages in treating his subjects. He speaks not to one or a few Judges, but to a large Assembly. He is secure from all interruption. He is obliged to no replies, or extemporaneous efforts. He chuses his theme at leisure; and comes to the Public with all the assist|ance which the most accurate premeditation can give him.

BUT, together with these advantages, there are also peculiar difficulties that at|tend the Eloquence of the Pulpit. The Preacher, it is true, has no trouble in con|tending with an adversary; but then, De|bate and Contention enliven the genius of men, and procure attention. The Pulpit Orator is, perhaps, in too quiet possession of his field. His subjects of discourse are, in themselves, noble and important; but they are subjects trite and familiar. They have, for ages, employed so many Speak|ers, and so many pens; the public ear is so much accustomed to them, that it re|quires more than an ordinary power of ge|nius to fix attention. Nothing within the reach of art is more difficult, than to bestow, on what is common, the grace of novelty. No sort of composition whatever is such a

trial of skill, as where the merit of it lies wholly in the execution; not in giving any information that is new, not in convincing men of what they did not believe; but in dressing truths which they knew, and of which they were before convinced, in such colours as may most forcibly affect their imagination and heart* 1.1. It is to be consi|dered too, that the subject of the Preacher generally confines him to abstract qualities, to virtues and vices; whereas, that of other popular Speakers leads them to treat of persons; which is a subject that commonly interests the hearers more, and takes faster

hold of the imagination. The Preacher's business is solely to make you detest the crime. The Pleader's, to make you detest the criminal. He describes a living per|son; and with more facility rouses your indignation. From these causes, it comes to pass, that though we have a great num|ber of moderately good Preachers, we have, however, so few that are singularly emi|nent. We are still far from perfection in the art of Preaching; and perhaps there are few things, in which it is more difficult to excel* 1.2. The object, however, is noble, and worthy, upon many accounts, of be|ing pursued with zeal.

IT may perhaps occur to some, that preaching is no proper subject of the Art of Eloquence. This, it may be said, be|longs

only to human studies and inven|tions: but for the truths of religion, with the greater simplicity, and the less mix|ture of art they are set forth, they are likely to prove the more successful. This objection would have weight, if Eloquence were, as the persons who make such an objection commonly take it to be, an osten|tatious and deceitful art, the study of words and of plausibility only, calculated to please, and to tickle the ear. But against this idea of Eloquence I have all along guarded. True Eloquence is the art of placing truth in the most advantageous light for conviction and persuasion. This is what every good man who preaches the Gospel not only may, but ought to have at heart. It is most intimately connected with the success of his ministry; and were it needful, as assuredly it is not, to reason any further on this head, we might refer to the Discourses of the Prophets and Apostles, as models of the most sublime and persuasive Eloquence, adapted both to the imagination and the passions of men.

AN essential requisite, in order to preach well, is, to have a just, and, at the same time, a fixed and habitual view of the end of preaching. For in no art can any man execute well, who has not a just idea of the end and object of that art. The end of all preaching is, to persuade men to become good. Every Sermon therefore should be

a persuasive Oration. Not but that the Preacher is to instruct and to teach, to rea|son and argue. All persuasion, as I show|ed formerly, is to be founded on conviction. The understanding must always be applied to in the first place, in order to make a last|ing impression on the heart: and he who would work on men's passions, or in|influence their practice, without first giving them just principles, and enlightening their minds, is no better than a mere declaimer. He may raise transient emotions, or kindle a passing ardour; but can produce no solid or lasting effect. At the same time, it must be remembered, that all the Preachers in|structions are to be of the practical kind; and that persuasion must ever be his ulti|mate object. It is not to discuss some ab|struse point, that he ascends the Pulpit. It is not to illustrate some metaphysical truth, or to inform men of something which they never heard before; but it is to make them better men; it is to give them, at once, clear views, and persuasive impressions of religious truth. The Eloquence of the Pul|pit then, must be Popular Eloquence. One of the first qualities of preaching is to be po|pular; not in the sense of accommodation to the humours and prejudices of the people (which tends only to make a Preacher con|temptible), but, in the true sense of the word, calculated to make impression on the people; to strike and to seize their hearts. I scruple not therefore to assert, that the abstract and philosophical manner of preach|ing,

however it may have sometimes been admired, is formed upon a very faulty idea, and deviates widely from the just plan of Pulpit Eloquence. Rational, indeed, a Preacher ought always to be; he must give his audience clear ideas on every subject, and entertain them with sense, not with sound; but to be an accurate reasoner will be small praise, if he be not a persuasive Speaker also.

NOW, if this be the proper idea of a Ser|mon, a persuasive Oration, one very mate|rial consequence follows, that the Preacher himself, in order to be successful, must be a good man. In a preceding Lecture, I en|deavoured to show, that on no subject can any man be truly eloquent, who does not utter the

"verae voces ab imo pectore,"

who does not speak the language of his own conviction, and his own feelings. If this holds, as, in my opinion, it does in other kinds of Public Speaking, it certainly holds in the highest degree in preaching. There, it is of the utmost consequence that the Speaker firmly believe both the truth, and the importance of those principles which he inculcates on others; and, not only that he believe them speculatively, but have a lively and serious feeling of them. This will always give an earnestness and strength, a fervour of piety to his exhortations, supe|rior in its effects to all the arts of studied Eloquence; and, without it, the assistance of art will seldom be able to conceal the

mere declaimer. A spirit of true piety would prove the most effectual guard against those errors which Preachers are apt to com|mit. It would make their Discourses solid, cogent, and useful; it would prevent those frivolous and ostentatious harangues, which have no other aim than merely to make a parade of Speech, or amuse an audience; and perhaps the difficulty of attaining that pitch of habitual piety and goodness, which the perfection of Pulpit Eloquence would require, and of uniting it with that tho|rough knowledge of the world, and those other talents which are requisite for excel|ling in the Pulpit, is one of the great causes why so few arrive at very high eminence in this sphere.

THE chief characteristics of the Eloquence suited to the Pulpit, as distinguished from the other kinds of Public Speaking, appear to me to be these two, Gravity and Warmth. The serious nature of the subjects belong|ing to the Pulpit, requires Gravity; their importance to mankind, requires Warmth. It is far from being either easy or common to unite these characters of Eloquence. The Grave, when it is predominant, is apt to run into a dull uniform solemnity. The Warm, when it wants gravity, borders on the theatrical and light. The uni|on of the two must be studied by all Preachers as of the utmost consequence, both in the composition of their dis|courses, and in their manner of delivery.

Gravity and Warmth united, form that character of preaching which the French call Onction; the affecting, penetrating, in|teresting manner, flowing from a strong sen|sibility of heart in the Preacher to the im|portance of those truths which he delivers, and an earnest desire that they may make full impression on the hearts of his Hearers.

NEXT to a just idea of the nature and object of Pulpit Eloquence, the point of gre test importance to a Preacher, is a pro|per choice of the subjects on which he preaches. To give rules for the choice of subjects for Sermons, belongs to the theolo|gical more than to the rhetorical chair; on|ly in general, they should be such as appear to the Preacher to be the most useful, and the best accommodated to the circumstances of his Audience. No man can be called eloquent, who speaks to an Assembly on subjects, or in a strain, which none or few of them comprehend. The unmeaning ap|plause which the ignorant give to what is above their capacity, common sense, and common probity, must teach every man to despise. Usefulness and true Eloquence al|ways go together; and no man can long be reputed a good Preacher who is not acknow|ledged to be an useful one.

THE rules which relate to the conduct of the different parts of a Sermon, the Intro|duction, Division, argumentative and pa|thetic

parts, I reserve to be afterwards de|livered, when treating of the conduct of a Discourse in general; but some rules and observations, which respect a Sermon as a particular species of composition, I shall now give, and I hope they may be of some use.

THE first which I shall mention is, to at|tend to the Unity of a Sermon. Unity in|deed is of great consequence in every com|position; but in other Discourses, where the choice and direction of the subject are not left to the Speaker, it may be less in his power to preserve it. In a Sermon, it must be always the Preacher's own fault if he transgress it. What I mean by unity is, that there should be some one main point to which the whole strain of the Sermon shall refer. It must not be a bundle of different subjects strung together, but one object must predominate throughout. This rule is founded on what we all experience, that the mind can attend fully only to one capital object at a time. By dividing, you always weaken the impression. Now this Unity, without which no Sermon can either have much beauty, or much force, does not re|quire that there should be no divisions or separate heads in the Discourse, or that one single thought only should be, again and again, turned up to the hearers in different lights. It is not to be understood in so nar|row a sense: it admits of some variety; it

admits of underparts and appendages, pro|vided always that so much Union and Con|nection be preserved, as to make the whole concur in some one impression upon the mind. I may employ, for instance, several different arguments to enforce the love of God; I may also enquire, perhaps, into the causes of the decay of this virtue; still one great object is presented to the mind; but if, because my text says,

"He that loveth God, must love his brother also,"

I should, therefore, mingle in one Discourse argu|ments for the love of God and for the love of our neighbour, I would offend unpardon|ably against Unity, and leave a very loose and confused impression on the Hearers minds.

IN the second place, Sermons are always the more striking, and commonly the more useful, the more precise and particular the subject of them be. This follows, in a great measure, from what I was just now illustra|ting. Though a general subject is capable of being conducted with a considerable de|gree of Unity, yet that Unity can never be so complete as in a particular one. The impression made must always be more un|determinate; and the instruction conveyed, will commonly too, be less direct and con|vincing. General subjects, indeed, such as the excellency or the pleasures of religion, are often chosen by young Preachers, as the most showy, and the easiest to be handled;

and, doubtless, general views of religion are not to be neglected, as on several occa|sions they have great propriety. But these are not the subjects most favourable for pro|ducing the high effects of preaching. They fall in almost unavoidably with the beaten tract of common-place thought. Attention is much more commanded by seizing some particular view of a great subject, some sin|gle interesting topic, and directing to that point the whole force of Argument and Eloquence. To recommend some one grace or virtue, or to inveigh against a particular vice, furnishes a subject not deficient in unity or precision; but if we confine our|selves to that virtue or vice as assuming a particular aspect, and consider it as it ap|pears in certain characters, or affects certain situations in life, the subject becomes still more interesting. The execution is, I ad|mit, more difficult, but the merit and the effect are higher.

IN the third place, never study to say all that can be said upon a subject; no error is greater than this. Select the most useful, the most striking and persuasive topics which the text suggests, and rest the Discourse upon these. If the doctrines which Ministers of the Gospel preach were altogether new to their hearers, it might be requisite for them to be exceeding full on every particular, lest there should be any hazard of their not affording complete information. But it is

much less for the sake of information than of persuasion, that Discourses are delivered from the Pulpit; and nothing is more op|posite to persuasion, than an unnecessary and tedious fulness. There are always some things which the Preacher may sup|pose to be known, and some things which he may only shortly touch. If he seek to omit nothing which his subject suggests, it will unavoidably happen that he will en|cumber it, and weaken its force.

IN studying a Sermon, he ought to place himself in the situation of a serious hearer. Let him suppose the subject addressed to himself: let him consider what views of it would strike him most; what arguments would be most likely to persuade him; what parts of it would dwell most upon his mind. Let these be employed as his principal ma|terials; and in these, it is most likely his genius will exert itself with the greatest vi|gour. The spinning and wire-drawing mode, which is not uncommon among Preachers, enervates the noblest truths. It may indeed be a consequence of observing the rule which I am now giving, that fewer Sermons will be preached upon one text than is sometimes done; but this will, in my opinion, be attended with no disadvantage. I know no benefit that arises from intro|ducing a whole system of religious truth under every text. The simplest and most natural method by far, is to chuse that view

of a subject to which the text principally leads, and to dwell no longer on the text, than is sufficient for discussing the subject in that view, which can commonly be done, with sufficient profoundness and distinct|ness, in one or a few Discourses: for it is a very false notion to imagine, that they al|ways preach the most profoundly, or go the deepest into a subject, who dwell on it the longest. On the contrary, that tedious cir|cuit, which some are ready to take in all their illustrations, is very frequently owing, either to their want of discernment for per|ceiving what is most important in the sub|ject; or to their want of ability for placing it in the most proper point of view.

IN the fourth place, study above all things to render your instructions interesting to the Hearers. This is the great trial and mark of true genius for the Eloquence of the Pulpit: for nothing is so fatal to success in preaching, as a dry manner. A dry Ser|mon can never be a good one. In order to preach in an interesting manner, much will depend upon the delivery of a Discourse; for the manner in which a man speaks, is of the utmost consequence for affecting his Audience; but much will also depend on the composition of the Discourse. Correct language, and elegant description, are but the secondary instruments of preaching in an interesting manner. The great secret lies, in bringing home all that is spoken to

the hearts of the Hearers, so as to make every man think that the Preacher is addres|sing him in particular. For this end, let him avoid all intricate reasonings; avoid expressing himself in general speculative propositions, or laying down practical truths in an abstract metaphysical manner. As much as possible, the Discourse ought to be carried on in the strain of direct ad|dress to the Audience; not in the strain of one writing an essay, but of one speaking to a multitude, and studying to mix what is called Application, or what has an im|mediate reference to practice, with the doctrinal and didactic parts of the Ser|mon.

IT will be of much advantage to keep always in view the different ages, charac|ters, and conditions of men, and to accom|modate directions and exhortations to these different classes of hearers. Whenever you bring forth what a man feels to touch his own character, or to suit his own circum|stances, you are sure of interesting him. No study is more necessary for this purpose, than the study of human life, and the human heart. To be able to unfold the heart, and to discover a man to himself, in a light in which he never saw his own character before, produces a wonderful ef|fect. As long as the Preacher hovers in a cloud of general observations, and descends not to trace the particular lines and fea|tures

of manners, the Audience are apt to think themselves unconcerned in the description. It is the striking accuracy of moral characters that gives the chief power and effect to a preacher's discourse. Hence, examples founded on historical facts, and drawn from real life, of which kind the Scriptures afford many, always, when they are well chosen, command high attention. No favourable opportunity of introducing these should be omitted. They correct, in some degree, that disadvantage to which I before observed preaching is subject, of being confined to treat of qualities in the abstract, not of persons, and place the weight and reality of religious truths in the most convincing light. Perhaps the most beautiful, and among the most useful sermons of any, though, indeed the most difficult in composition, are such as are wholly characteristical, or founded on the illustration of some peculiar character, or remarkable piece of history, in the sacred writings; by pursuing which, one can trace, and lay open, some of the most se|cret windings of man's heart. Other to|pics of preaching have been much beaten; but this is a field, which, wide in itself, has hitherto been little explored by the composers of sermons, and possesses all the advantages of being curious, new, and highly useful. Bishop Butler's sermon on the character of Balaam, will give an idea

of that sort of preaching which I have in my eye.

IN the fifth and last place, Let me add a caution against taking the model of preach|ing from particular fashions that chance to have the vogue. These are torrents that swell to day, and have spent themselves by to-morrow. Sometimes it is the taste of poetical preaching, sometimes of philoso|phical, that has the fashion on its side; at one time it must be all pathetic, at another time all argumentative, according as some celebrated Preacher has set the example. Each of these-modes, in the extreme, is very faulty; and he who conforms himself to it, will both cramp genius, and corrupt it. It is the universal taste of mankind which is subject to no such changing modes, that alone is entitled to possess any autho|rity; and this will never give its sanction to any strain of preaching, but what is founded on human nature, connected with usefulness, adapted to the proper idea of a Sermon, as a serious persuasive Oration, delivered to a multitude, in order to make them better men. Let a Preacher form himself upon this standard, and keep it close in his eye, and he will be in a much surer road to reputation, and success at last, than by a servile compliance with any popular taste, or transient humour of his Hearers. Truth and good sense are firm, and will establish themselves; mode

and humour are feeble and fluctuating. Let him never follow, implicitly, any one example; or become a servile imitator of any Preacher, however much admired. From various examples, he may pick up much for his improvement; some he may prefer to the rest: but the servility of imi|tation extinguishes all genius, or rather is a proof of the entire want of genius.

WITH respect to Style, that which the Pulpit requires, must certainly, in the first place, be very perspicuous. As discourses spoken there, are calculated for the in|struction of all sorts of hearers, plainness and simplicity should reign in them. All unusual, swoln, or high sounding words, should be avoided; especially all words that are merely poetical, or merely philosophical. Young Preachers are apt to be caught with the glare of these; and in young Compo|sers the error may be excusable; but they may be assured that it is an error, and pro|ceeds from their not having yet acquired a correct Taste. Dignity of expression, in|deed, the Pulpit requires in a high degree; nothing that is mean or groveling, no low or vulgar phrases, ought on any account to be admitted. But this dignity is perfectly consistent with simplicity. The words em|ployed may be all plain words, easily un|derstood, and in common use; and yet the Style may be abundantly dignified, and, at the same time, very lively and animated.

For a lively animated Style is extremely suited to the Pulpit. The earnestness which a Preacher ought to feel, and the grandeur and importance of his subjects, justify, and often require warm and glowing expres|sions. He not only may employ metaphors and comparisons, but, on proper occasions, may apostrophise the saint or the sinner; may personify inanimate objects, break out into bold exclamations, and, in general, has the command of the most passionate figures of Speech. But on this subject, of the proper use and management of figures, I have insisted so fully in former Lectures, that I have no occasion now to give parti|cular directions; unless it be only to recal to mind that most capital rule, never to employ strong figures, or a pathetic Style, except in cases where the subject leads to them, and where the Speaker is impelled to the use of them by native unaffected warmth.

THE language of Sacred Scripture, pro|perly employed, is a great ornament to Sermons. It may be employed, either in the way of quotation, or allusion. Direct quotations, brought from Scripture, in or|der to support what the Preacher incul|cates, both give authority to his doctrine, and render his discourse more solemn and venerable. Allusions to remarkable passa|ges, or expressions of Scripture, when in|troduced with propriety, have generally a

pleasing effect. They afford the Preacher a fund of metaphorical expression which no other composition enjoys, and by means of which he can vary and enliven his Style. But he must take care that any such allu|sions be natural and easy; for if they seem forced, they approach to the nature of con|ceits* 1.3.

IN a Sermon, no points or conceits should appear, no affected smartness and quaintness of expression. These derogate much from the dignity of the Pulpit; and give to a Preacher that air of foppishness, which he ought, above all things, to shun. It is rather a strong expressive Style, than

a sparkling one, that is to be studied. But we must beware of imagining, that we ren|der Style strong and expressive, by a con|stant and multiplied use of epithets. This is a great error. Epithets have often great beauty and force. But if we introduce them into every Sentence, and string many of them together to one object, in place of strengthening, we clog and enfeeble Style; in place of illustrating the image, we ren|der it confused and indistinct. He that tells me,

"of this perishing, mutable and tran|sitory world;"

by all these three epithets, does not give me so strong an idea of what he would convey, as if he had used one of them with propriety. I conclude this head with an advice, never to have what may be called a favourite expression; for it shews affectation, and becomes disgusting. Let not any expression, which is remarkable for its lustre or beauty, occur twice in the same discourse. The repetition of it be|trays a fondness to shine, and, at the same time, carries the appearance of barren in|vention.

AS to the question, whether it be most proper to write Sermons fully, and commit them accurately to memory, or to study only the matter and thoughts, and trust the expression, in part at least, to the de|livery? I am of opinion, that no universal rule can here be given. The choice of ei|ther of these methods must be left to Preach|ers,

according to their different genius. The expressions which come warm and glowing from the mind, during the fervour of pronunciation, will often have a supe|rior grace and energy, to those which are studied in the retirement of the closet. But then, this fluency and power of expression cannot, at all times, be depended upon, even by those of the readiest genius; and by many can at no time be commanded, when overawed by the presence of an Au|dience. It is proper therefore to begin, at least, the practice of preaching, with writ|ing as accurately as possible. This is ab|solutely necessary in the beginning, in or|der to acquire the power and habit of cor|rect speaking, nay also of correct thinking, upon religious subjects. I am inclined to go further, and to say, that it is proper not only to begin thus, but also to continue, as long as the habits of industry last, in the practice both of writing, and committing to memory. Relaxation in this particular is so common, and so ready to grow up|on most Speakers in the Pulpit, that there is little occasion for giving any cautions against the extreme of overdoing in ac|curacy.

OF pronunciation or delivery, I am here|after to treat apart. All that I shall now say upon this head is, that the practice of reading Sermons, is one of the greatest ob|stacles

to the Eloquence of the Pulpit in Great Britain, where alone this practice prevails. No discourse, which is designed to be persuasive, can have the same force when read, as when spoken. The com|mon people all feel this, and their preju|dice against this practice is not without foundation in nature. What is gained here|by in point of correctness, is not equal, I apprehend, to what is lost in point of per|suasion and force. They, whose memories are not able to retain the whole of a dis|course, might aid themselves considerably by short notes lying before them, which would allow them to preserve, in a great measure, the freedom and ease of one who speaks.

THE French and English writers of Ser|mons proceed upon very different ideas of the Eloquence of the Pulpit; and seem in|deed to have split it betwixt them. A French Sermon, is for most part a warm animated exhortation; an English one, is a piece of cool instructive reasoning. The French Preachers address themselves chief|ly to the imagination and the passions; the English, almost solely to the understanding. It is the union of these two kinds of com|position, of the French earnestness and warmth, with the English accuracy and reason, that would form, according to my idea, the model of a perfect Sermon. A

French Sermon woul sound in our ears as a florid, and, often, as an enthusiastic, ha|rangue. The censure which, in fact, the French critics pass on the English Preachers is, that they are Philosophers and Logici|ans, but not orators* 1.4. The defects of most of the French Sermons are these: from a mode that prevails among them of taking their texts from the lesson of the day, the connection of the text with the subject is often unnatural and forced† 1.5; their appli|cations of Scripture are fanciful rather than instructive; their method is stiff, and cramp|ed, by their practice of dividing their sub|ject always either into three, or two main points; and their composition is in general too diffuse, and consists rather of a very few thoughts spread out, and highly wrought up, than of a rich variety of sen|timents. Admitting, however, all these defects, it cannot be denied, that their Ser|mons are formed upon the idea of a persua|sive

popular Oration; and therefore I am of opinion, they may be read with benefit.

AMONG the French Protestant divines, Saurin is the most distinguished: He is copi|ous, eloquent, and devout, though too os|tentatious in his manner. Among the Ro|man Catholics, the two most eminent, are Bourdaloue and Massillon. It is a subject of dispute among the French Critics, to which of these the preference is due, and each of them have their several partizans. To Bourdaloue, they attribute more solidi|ty and close reasoning; to Massillon, a more pleasing and engaging manner. Bourdaloue is indeed a great reasoner, and inculcates his doctrines with much zeal, piety, and earnestness; but his Style is verbose, he is disagreeably full of quotations from the Fa|thers, and he wants imagination. Massil|lon hae more grace, more sentiment, and, in my opinion, every way more genius. He discovers much knowledge both of the world and of the human heart; he is pathe|tic and persuasive; and, upon the whole, is perhaps, the most eloquent writer of Ser|mons which modern times have produced* 1.6.

DURING the period that preceded the re|storation of King Charles II. the Sermons of the English divines abounded with

scholastic casuistical theology. They were full of minute divisions and subdivisions, and scraps of learning in the didactic part; but to these were joined very warm pathe|tic addresses to the consciences of the Hear|ers, in the applicatory part of the Sermon. Upon the Restoration, preaching assumed a more correct and polished form. It became disencumbered from the pedantry, and scholastic divisions of the sectaries; but it threw out also their warm and pathetic Ad|dresses, and established itself wholly up|on

the modle of cool reasoning, and rati|onal instruction. As the Dissenters from the Church continued to preserve somewhat of the old strain of preaching, this led the established Clergy to depart the farther from it. Whatever was earnest and passionate, either in the composition or delivery of Ser|mons, was reckoned enthusiastic and fana|tical; and hence that argumentative man|ner, bordering on the dry and unper|suasive, which is too generally the cha|racter of English Sermons. Nothing can be more correct upon that model than many of them are; but the model itself on which they are formed, is a confined and imperfect one. Dr. Clark, for instance, every where abounds in good sense, and the most clear and accurate reasoning; his applications of Scripture are pertinent; his Style is always perspicuous, and often ele|gant; he instructs and he convinces; in what then is he deficient? In nothing, ex|cept in the power of interesting and seiz|ing the heart. He shows you what you ought to do; but he excites not the desire of doing it: he treats man as if he were a being of pure intellect, without imagina|tion or passions. Archbishop Tillotson's manner is more free and warm, and he ap|proaches nearer than most of the English divines to the character of Popular Speak|ing. Hence he is, to this day, one of the best models we have for preaching. We

must not indeed consider him in the light of a perfect Orator: his composition is too loose and remiss; his style too feeble, and frequently too flat, to deserve that high character; but there is in some of his Ser|mons so much warmth and earnestness, and through them all there runs so much ease and perspicuity, such a vein of good sense and sincere piety, as justly intitle him to be held as eminent a Preacher as England has produced.

IN Dr. Barrow, one admires more the prodigious fecundity of his invention, and the uncommon strength and force of his conceptions, than the felicity of his execu|tion, or his talent in composition. We see a genius far surpassing the common, pecu|liar indeed almost to himself; but that genius often shooting wild, and unchas|tised by any Discipline or study of Elo|quence.

I CANNOT attempt to give particular characters of that great number of Writers of Sermons which this, and the former age, have produced, among whom we meet with a variety of the most respectable names. We find in their composition much that deserves praise; a great display of abilities of different kinds, much good sense and piety, sound divinity and useful instructi|on; though in general the degree of Elo|quence

bears not, perhaps, equal propor|tion to the goodness of the matter. Bi|shop Atterbury deserves being particularly mentioned as a model of correct and beau|tiful Style, besides having the merit of a warmer and more eloquent strain of writ|ing, in some of his Sermons, than is com|monly met with. Had Bishop Butler, in place of abstract philosophical essays, given us more Sermons, in the strain of those two excellent ones which he has composed upon Self-deceit, and upon the character of Balaam, we would then have pointed him out as distinguished for that species of characteristical Sermons which I before re|commended.

THOUGH the writings of the English di|vines are very proper to be read by such as are designed for the Church, I must cau|tion them against making too much use of them, or transcribing large passages from them into the Sermons they compose. Such as once indulge themselves in this practice, will never have any fund of their own. Infinitely better it is, to venture into the public with thoughts and expressions which have occured to themselves, though of in|ferior beauty, than to disfigure their com|positions, by borrowed and ill-sorted orna|ments, which, to a judicious eye, will be al|ways in hazard of discovering their own po|verty. When a Preacher sits down to write on any subject, never let him begin with

seeking to consult all who have written on the same text, or subject. This, if he con|sult many, will throw perplexity and con|fusion into his ideas; and, if he consults only one, will often warp him insensibly into his method, whether it be right or not. But let him begin with pondering the subject on his own thoughts; let him endeavour to fetch materials from within; to collect and arrange his ideas; and form some sort of plan to himself; which it is always proper to put down in writing. Then, and not till then, he may enquire how others have treated the same subject. By this means, the method, and the lead|ing thoughts in the Sermon are likely to be his own. These thoughts he may improve, by comparing them with the tract of senti|ment which others have pursued; some of their sense he may without blame, incor|porate into his composition; retaining al|ways his own words and style. This is fair assistance: all beyond is plagiarism.

ON the whole, never let the principle, with which we set out at first, be forgotten, to keep close in view, the great end for which a Preacher mounts the pulpit; even to infuse good dispositions into his hearers, to persuade them to serve God, and to be|come better men. Let this always dwell on his mind when he is composing, and it will diffuse through his compositions, that

spirit which will render them at once es|teemed, and useful. The most useful Preacher is always the best, and will not fail of being esteemed so. Embellish truth only, with a view to gain it the more full and free admission into your hearers minds; and your ornaments will, in that case, be simple, masculine, natural. The best ap|plause by far, which a Preacher can receive, arises from the serious and deep impressions which his discourse leaves on those who hear it. The finest encomium, perhaps, ever bestowed on a Preacher, was given by Louis XIV. to the eloquent Bishop of Clermont, Father Massillon, whom I before mentioned with so much praise. After hearing him preach at Versailles, he said to him,

"Father, I have heard many great Orators in this Chapel; I have been high|ly pleased with them; but for you, whenever I hear you, I go away displeas|ed with myself; for I see more of my own character."

Notes

• * 1.1

  What I have said on this subject, coincides very much with the observations made by the famous M. Bruyere, in his Maeurs de Siecle, when he is comparing the Eloquence of the Pulpit with that of the Bar.

  "L'Eloquence de la chaire, en ce qui y entre d'humain, & du talent de l'orateur, est cachée, connue de peu de personnes, & d'une difficile execution. Il faut marcher par des chemins battus, dire ce qui a été dit, & ce que l'on prevoit que vous allez dire: les matières sont grandes, mais usées & triviales; les principes surs, mais dont les auditeurs penetrent les conclusions d'une seule vûe: il y entre des sujets qui sont sublimes, mais qui peut traiter le sublime?—Le Prédicateur n'est point soutenu comme l'a|vocat par des faits toujours nouveaux, par de differens evénéments, par des avantures inou••es; il ne s'exerce point sur les questions douteuses; il ne fait point valoir les vio|lentes conjectures, & les presomptions; toutes choles, nean|moins, qui elevent le génie, lui donnent de la force, & de l'étendue, & qui contraignent bien moins l'eloquence, qu'elles ne le fixent, & le dirigent Il doit, au contraire, tirer son discours d'une source commune, & au tout le monde puise; & s'il s'ecarte de ces lieux communs, il n'est plus populaire; il est abstrait ou déclamateur."

  —The inference which he draws from tl.ese reflections is very just—

  "il est plus aisé de prêcher que de plaider; mais plus difficile de bien prêcher que de bien plaider." Les Characteres, ou Moeurs de ce Siecle, p. 601.
• * 1.2

  What I say here, and in other passages, of our being far from perfection in the Art of Preaching, and of their being few who are singularly eminent in it, is to be always under|stood as referring to an ideal view of the perfection of this art, which none, perhaps, since the days of the Apostles, ever did, or ever will, reach. But in that degree of the Eloquence of the Pulpit, which promotes, in a considerable measure, the great end of edification, and gives a just title to high reputa|tion and esteem, there are many who hold a very honourable rank. I agree entirely in opinion with a candid Judge (Dr. Campbell on Rhetoric, B. i. ch. 10.) who observes, that con|sidering how rare the talent of Eloquence is among men, and considering all the disadvantages under which Preachers la|bour, particularly from the frequency of this exercise, joined with the other duties of their office, to which fixed Pastors are obliged, there is more reason to wonder that we hear so many instructive, and even eloquent Sermons, than that we hear so few.
• * 1.3

  Bishop Sherlock, when showing, that the views of reason have been enlarged, and the principles of natural religion illustrated, by the discoveries of Christianity, attacks unbe|lievers for the abuse they make of these advantages, in the following manner:

  "What a return do we make for those blessings we have received? How disrespectfully do we treat the Gospel of Christ, to which we owe that clear light both of reason and nature, which we now enjoy, when we endeavour to set up reason and nature in opposi|tion to it? ought the withered hand, which Christ has re|stored and made whole, to be lifted up against him?" Vol. i. Disc. i.

  This allusion to a noted miracle of our Lord's, appears to me happy and elegant. Dr. Seed is remarkably fond of allusions to Scripture Style; but he sometimes em|ploys such as are too strained and fanciful. As when he says (Serm. iv.)

  "No one great virtue will come single; the vir|tues that be her fellows will bear her company with joy and gladnses."

  Alluding to a passage in the XLVth. Psalm, which relates to the virgins, the companions of the king's daughter. And (Serm. xiii.) having said, that the universities have justly been called the eyes of the nation, he adds,

  "and if the eyes of the nation be evil, the whole body of it must be full of darkness."
• * 1.4

  "Les Sermons sont suivant notre methode, de vrais dis|cours oratoires; & non pas, comme chez les Anglois, des discussions metaphysiques plus convenables à une une Aca|demie, qu'aux Assemblies populaires qui se sorment dans nos temples, et qu'il s'agit d'instruire des devoirs du Chrêti|anisme, d'encourager, de consoler, d'edifier." Rhetorique Françoise, par. M. Crevier, Tome: I. p. 134.
• † 1.5

  One of Massillon's best Sermons, that on the coldness and langour with which Christians perform the duties of religion, is preached from Luke iv. 18.

  And he arose out of the Syn|agogue, and entered into Simon's house; and Simon's wife's mother was taken ill with a great fever.
• * 1.6

  In order to give an idea of that kind of Eloquence which is employed by the French Preachers, I shall insert a passage from Massillon, which, in the Encyclopedie, (Article, Elo|quence) is extolled by Voltaire, who was the Author of that Article, as a chef'd'oeuvre, equal to any thing of which either ancient or modern times can boast. The subject of the Sermon is, the small number of those who shall be saved. The strain of the whole Discourse is extremely serious and animat|ed; but when the Orator came to the passage which follows, Voltaire informs us, that the whole Assembly were moved; that by a sort of involuntary motion, they started up from their seats, and that such murmurs of surprise and and accla|mations arose as disconcerted the Speaker, though they increas|ed the effect of his Discourse.

  "Je m'arrête à vous, mes frères, qui êtes ici assemblés. Je ne parle plus du reste des hommes; je vous regarde comme si vous étiez seuls sur la terre: voici la pensée qui m'occupe & qui m'épouvante. Je suppose que c'est ici vo|tre derniere heure, et la fin de l'univers; que les cieux vont s'ouvrir sur vos têtes, Jesus Christ paroitre dans sa gloire au milieu de ce temple, et que vous n'y êtes assem|blies que pour l'attendre, comme des criminels tremblans, à qui l'on va prononcer, ou une sentence de grace, ou un arrêt de morte eternelle. Car vous avez beau vous flater; vous mouriex tels que vous êtes aujourd'hui. Tous ces dé|sirs de changement que vous amusent, vous amuseront jusq'au lit de la mort; c'est l'expérience de tous les siècles. Tout ce que vous trouverez alors en vous de nouveau, sera peut-être un compte plus grand que celui que vous auriez aujourd'hui à rendre; et sur ce que vous seriez, si l'on venoit vois juger dans ce moment, vous pouvez presque decider ce que vous arrivera au sortir de la vie."

  "Or, je vous le demande, et je vous le demande frappé de terreur, ne separant pas en ce point mon sort du votre, et me mettant dans la même disposition, où je souhait que vous entriez; je vous demande, donc, si Jesus Christ paroissoit dans ce temple, au milieu de cette Assemblée, la plus au|guste de l'univers, pour nous juger, pour faire le terrible discernement des bonnes et des brebis, croyez vous que le plus grand nombre de tout ce que nous sommes ici, fut placé à la droite? Croyez vous que les choses du moins fussent egales? croyez vous qu'il s'y trouvât seulement dix justes, que le Seigneur ne peut trouver autrefois en cinq villes toutes entières? Je vour le demande; vous l'igno|rez, et je l'ignore moi-meme. Vous seul, O mon Dieu! connoissez que vous appartiennent.—Mes frères, notre perte est presque assurée, et nous n'y pensons pus. Quand même dans cette terrible séparation qui se fera un jour, il ne devroit y avoir qu'un seul pêcheur de cet Assemblée du côte des réprouvés, et qu'une voix du ciel viendroit nous en assurer dans •…•…e Temple, sans le designer; qui de nous ne craindroit d'être de malheureux; qui de nous ne retombe|roit d'abord, sur sa conscience, pour examiner si ses crimes n'ont pas méritez ce châtiment? qui de nous, sasie de fray|eur, ne demanderoit pas à Jesus Christ comme autrefois les Apôtres; Seigneur, ne seroit-ce pas moi? Sommos nous sages, mes chers Auditeurs? peut-être que parmi tous ceux qui m'enter 〈◊〉〈◊〉 il ne se truvera pas dix justes; peut|être s'en trouvera 〈◊〉〈◊〉 encore moins. Que sai-je. O mon Dieu! ie •…•…ôse regarder d'un oeil fixe les ab•…•…mes de vos juge|mens, et de votre justice; peut-être ne s'en trouvera-t-il qu'un seul; et ce danger ne vous touche point, mon cher Auditeur? et vous croyez être ce seul heureux dans le grand nombre qui perira? vous qui avez moins sujet de le croire que tout autre; vous fur qui seul la sentence de mort devroit tomber. Grand Dieu! qui l'on connoit peu dans la monde les terreurs de votre loi," &c.

  —After this awakening and alarming exhortation, the Orator comes with propriety to this practical improvement:

  "Mais que conclure des ces grands verités? qu'il faut desesperer de son salut? a Dien ne plaise; il n'y a que l'impie, qui pour se calmer sur ses desordres, tache ici de conclure en secret que tous les hommes periront comme lui; ce ne doit pas être la le fruits de ce discours. Mais de vous detrom|per de cette erreur si universelle, qu'on peut faire ce que tous les autres font; et que l'usage est une voie fure; mais de vous convaincre que pour se sauver, il faut de distinguer des autres; être singulier, vivre à part au milieu du monde, et ne pas ressembler à la soule." Sermons de MASSILON, Vol. IV.