OP THE 
 
 Theological Seminary, 
 
 PRINCETON, N. J. 
 
 BV 421 1 .P6 1873 
 
 Potter, Thomas Joseph, 1828 
 
 1873. 
 
 Sacred eloquence, or, The 
 J., 1 J. J - ^ -^ 
 
 
SACRKD p:loquenoe. 
 
 OR, THE 
 
 iluorj and Inutiq of |r^arhinjg 
 
 / 
 
 By Rev. THOMAS j; POTTER, 
 
 Professor op Sacred Eloquence ly the Foreign Musionabt 
 College op All Hallows. 
 
 ■ Hrseciicate Evangelium omni creaturse." 
 
 Marc. ivl. 
 
 " M\mdus sum a sanguine omniam ; nos enim subterfugi guominusannuntiSMte 
 omne consilium Dei vobis." 
 
 ACT- APOST. zx 
 
 Third Edition^ 
 
 cakeftllt revised and bnlakged. 
 
 TROY, N. Y. : 
 p. J. DOOLEY, PUBLISHER. 
 
 182 AJJD 27-2 RiVEK STRBBT, 
 
 1873. 
 
CONTEI^TS. 
 
 Page. 
 
 Preface 9 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Introduction 19 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Kecessitt and Obligation of Diligent Preparation SO 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Remote Preparation for Preaching 39 
 
 Section I.— Style 39 
 
 II. — A Judicious Course of Reading 45 
 
 III. — A Collection of Useful and Striking Matter 60 
 
 IV. — The Practice of Composition fiG 
 
 CHAPTER IT. 
 
 Proximate Preparation for Preaching 76 
 
 Section I. — The Choice of a Subject 7(j 
 
 II. — The Meditation and Conception of our Subject.. 80 
 III. — The Arrangement of our Matter by means of the 
 
 Plan of our Discourse -. 87 
 
 lY.— Unity 91 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Five Principal Methods of Preparing a Discourse 106 
 
6 Contents. 
 
 CHAPTER Yl. 
 
 Page. 
 
 The Proper Time in which to "Write r24 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Introduction of the Discourse 131 
 
 Section I.— Text 132 
 
 II. — Exordium strictly so called, — Examples 134 
 
 III. — Proposition, its Ifature and Object — Division, its 
 Advantages, Disadvantages, and Principal 
 
 Rules 163 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Body of the Discourse — Instruction, Argumentation, 
 
 Refutation, Special Application 17.5 
 
 Section I. — Instruction — Its Obligation, Ifecessity, and jSTa- 
 
 ture , 175 
 
 II. — Explanation of the Christian Doctrine. Clearness 
 the Essential Quality of Instruction — Means of 
 securing it. Special Adaptation of the Subject 
 to the Audience. Rules for the Use of "Words 
 and the Construction of Strong and Harmonious 
 
 Sentences IHH 
 
 III. — The Manner of Proving the Chiistian Doctrine.. 213 
 
 IV. — Selection of Arguments 215 
 
 V. — Arrangement of Arguments, Transition 221 
 
 VI. — Amplification of Arguments, its N"ature and !N"e- 
 cessity. Sources of Amplifica,tion : — Sacred 
 Scripture ; the Fathers ; Theology, Scholastic 
 and Ascetic ; Comparisons, Examples ana Pa- 
 rables ; Reason, Examples 232 
 
 VII.— Refutation 262 
 
 VIII. — Special Application of the Subject to all Classes 
 of our hearers ; or. Amplification of Arguments 
 drawn from Practical Conclusions in re morali. 
 Extremes to be avoided 273 
 
, Contents. 7 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Page. 
 
 TiiK Pathetic Part — Persuasion, Appeal to the Pas- 
 sions, Peroration 2«2 
 
 Section I. — Persuasion — lis Mature and Ifecessity 'i^f'2 
 
 II. — Appeal to the Passions 280 
 
 III. — Certain Conditions which are reqiiii-ed iu him who 
 
 appeals to the Passions 305 
 
 IV. — The Order to be observed in appealing to the 
 
 Pas^ons oiO 
 
 V. — The Peroration ; or, Conclusion of the Discourse, 
 
 Examples 327 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Final Preparation 339 
 
 .Section I. — Careful Revision of the "Written Discourse 339 
 
 II. — I^ecessity and Manner of committing the Dis- 
 course to Memory 344 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 Style of the Pulpit 357 
 
PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. 
 
 jHILST I venture to hope that it will not be 
 found less serviceable or less interesting to 
 the clergy in general, I think it right and 
 just to state distinctly in this place, that this 
 work has been compiled primarily with a view to the use 
 of the class of Sacred Eloquence in our Foreign Mis- 
 sionary College of All Hallows. During the period in 
 which I have had charge of this department, my pupils 
 and I have suffered, not only great inconvenience, but 
 loss of time, from want of some work which, written in 
 the English Language, and, embodying in a clear, 
 simple, and, above all, practical manner, the leading 
 principles of Sacred Eloquence as laid down by those 
 who must necessarily be the guides of the Ecclesiastic 
 in this matter, might serve the student as a Text-book 
 during his college course, and as a Avork of reference 
 during those future years in which he was to be actively 
 engaged in the preaching o£ the Divine Word. I have 
 waited patiently in the hope that some one better quali- 
 fied, or some one who felt more confidence in his ability 
 for the task, would undertake it. Having waited in 
 vain, I have at length, after much hesitation and anxious 
 
10 Preface. 
 
 thought, ventured to compile the Treatise which is here 
 presented to the public. 
 
 These remarks will at once serve to explain any quali- 
 fications which I may appear to claim in undertaking 
 it, as also what may perhaps strike the reader as the 
 leading characteristics of the work itself. 
 
 I can say, with perfect sincerity, that I claim no pecu- 
 liar aptitude for the task which I have aspired to per- 
 form, beyond what may arise from the fact that 1 have 
 been actively engaged in teaching this matter for nearly 
 ten years ; that I have compiled the work from the most 
 approved sources within my reach ; and that I have 
 laboured, to the utmost of my knowledge and of my 
 ability, to render it as perfect and as practically useful 
 as might be possible. If I could not claim thus much 
 for myself it would be great presumption on my part to 
 appear before those to whom this work is offered. More 
 than this I do not claim, unless, perhaps, I may be per- 
 mitted to add that I have brought out this work because 
 I have been assured by those, whose opinion I naturally 
 value most highly, that there is a necessity for it; and 
 because, so far as I know, there is no work in the English 
 language which can be put into the hands of the Eccle- 
 siastical student, or which will serve the Clergyman, as 
 a manual of preaching — as a guide to the becoming dis- 
 charge of what is one of the most important, as it is one 
 of the most holy and sublime, of his duties. 
 
 I believe, as I hope, that the verdict of my readers 
 will assign to this work th« quality of simplicity as its 
 characteristic. In view of the special object which was 
 before me, I have, in the compilation of this Treatise, 
 aimed at the greatest simplicity, as well of conception 
 
Preface. 11 
 
 as of expression, -whicli was compatible with the proper 
 treatment of my subject. Whilst 1 have avoided as 
 much as possible what I may call the purely Rhetorical 
 aspect of that subject, I have been obliged in some 
 places to enter into questions which, at first sight, may 
 seem somewhat technical and scholastic. Possibly, I 
 may appear to have treated some of these matters too 
 much in detail. I venture to hope that I shall be found, 
 on the one hand, to have entered into no question whicli 
 is not thoroughly and practically useful ; Avhilst, on tlie 
 other, my purpose has continually been to aim mucli 
 more at throwing out substantial ideas, and at suggest- 
 ing leading thoughts, than at tlieir minute development. 
 I took it for granted that, as regards my pupils, some- 
 thing was to be left to my own oral explanations in 
 class; whilst I knew well that the experience of my 
 l)rethren who are engaged in the preaching of the Divine 
 Word — an experience so much greater than mine can 
 pretend to be — would more than supply, so far as they 
 are concerned, for any deficiency in my work, if such 
 there be, in the way of laboured and diffuse working out 
 of the general principles laid down. 
 
 When such great masters as St. Augustine, St. Charles 
 Borromeo, St. Francis of Sales^ and a host of others, 
 have treated this subject, I need scarcely say that I make 
 no pretention of having advanced any new or original 
 views in this work. I have merely aimed at presenting 
 those principles, which are as old as the illustrious au- 
 thors quoted, in a more simple and familiar manner; 
 and with such an adaption of general principles to pecu- 
 liar circumstances as must become necessary in course 
 of time, and with such a modification as becomes no 
 
13 Preface. 
 
 less necessary when those general principles have to be 
 applied, not only to those to whom they were originally 
 and specially addressed, but to the instruction and sane- 
 tification of others who diflfer from them in habits and 
 in sympathies, in education and in passions, in country 
 and in race. In treating this subject I have kept the 
 maxim, Non nova, sed nove, ever before my mind. 
 
 I think it only remains for me to acknowledge the 
 sources whence I have derived the matter for this work, 
 and to return my thanks where they are due. Without 
 farther reference to the standard authors whose names 
 will be found mentioned in the work itself, my grateful 
 thanks are especially due to the venerable Cure of 
 8. Sulpice, M. Hamon, who, in the most generous and 
 unqualified manner, placed his valuable Traite de la 
 Predication at my disposal, and to the Very Eev. J. H. 
 Newman, D. D., who no less kindly allowed me to make 
 copious extracts from his writings. 
 
 With these brief remarks I submit my work with 
 confidence to the friendly criticism and the generous 
 forbearance of those for whom it has been compiled. I 
 only beg of them to forget the imperfections which, 
 doubtless, they will discover in its pages, in the remem- 
 brance of the earnest sincerity with which I have aspired 
 and striven to be of some small service to those who 
 are my brethren in the Holy Catholic Faith, fellow- 
 labourers with me in the sublime ministry of the Church 
 of God. T. J. P. 
 
OPINIONS OF DISTINGUISHED ECCLESIASTICS, 
 &c., &c. 
 
 The following are selected from many kind and flattering notices of his work 
 with which the author has been honored: 
 
 " My Dear Mr. Potter — I wish to thank you for the copy of 
 your excellent work which you have been so kind as to send me. 
 
 " It seems to me you have succeeded in treating the subject of 
 Sacred Eloquence in a manner worthy of its importance. This was 
 to be expected from the wise rule which you laid down for your 
 guidance — not to depart in anything from the principles which the 
 Fathers have held concerning the true method of Gospel preaching. 
 In addition to this, the judicious arrangement you have made of the 
 matter, the accuracy with which you treat of practical details, too 
 often overlooked in works of this kind, and the spirit of piety which 
 pervades the whole, will, I am confident, render your book of signal 
 service to all who are preparing for, or engaged in, the preaching of 
 the Word of God. 
 
 " Wishing you every blessing, I remain, my dear Mr. Potter, your 
 obedient servant, 
 
 >J< PAUL CAKDINAL CULLEJ^." 
 
 Rev. and Dear Sir — I beg to thank you for your excellent book 
 on Sacred Eloquence, which, I hope, will be of much use to our 
 students for the Priesthood. ISTo part of it will be more useful than 
 that in which you repress the ambition of being eloquent. It has 
 been well said that ' Men forget that eloquence resides essentially 
 in the thought, and that no language will render eloquent that 
 ■which is not so in the simplest words which will convey the mean- 
 ing.' St. Charles enjoins a 'Simplex et virilis oratio' which seems 
 to me to be the true source of power over the reason and hearts 
 of men. 
 
 I trust your labours will promote this, and that every blessing 
 will be with you. 
 
 BeUeve me, Rev. and dear Sir, your faithful servant, 
 k^ HENRY EDWARD, 
 
 Archbishop of Westminster. 
 
14 Opijstions of Distinguished Ecclesiastics. 
 
 The Lord Biihoi) of Beverley. 
 *****! have delayed my acknowledgmeuts aud 
 warm thanks for your book that I might make some acquaintance 
 Tvith its contents. What I have seen only proves to me how cor- 
 rectly I measured your powers when, months ago, I expressed my 
 conviction that you were equal to the lask you had thought of un- 
 dertaking, and, that, you would succeed if you undertook it. I 
 earnestly hope that your very elegant volume will be found, as it 
 deserves to be, in every College, and on every Priest's table. I 
 shall be most happy to do everything in my power to promote its 
 dilfasion. * * * * 
 
 The Lord Bishop of Kerry. 
 *****! have been through a great deal of your 
 book, and I think it very sensible and very useful. Its utility will 
 be greatly felt in the training of clerical youth. They will get cor- 
 rect n(jti(ms from it, and, both in judgment aud taste, they will be 
 started in the right direction The great success which, as a body, 
 has attended the All Hallows' Missiouers in the art of preaching, 
 ought to encourage you to persevere in your eflbrts. * * * * 
 Insist upon the constant use of the pen. You cannot think what a 
 difierence it will make in the whole after career of your pupils. * * 
 
 The Lord Bishop of Liverpool. 
 ***** The Bishop thinks the publication of such a 
 work most timely, and he welcomes its appearance with great pleas- 
 ure. He has often feared that in the multiplicity of duties which 
 now press so heavily upon Uie clergy, the duty of preaching, or, 
 rather, of suitable preparation for preaching may be neglected. He 
 trusts that your work may induce many to look upon it as an art 
 which must be learned like any other art, and to feel that it is only 
 by a careful study of those principles which have been accepted by 
 all Masters of Sacred Eloquence, that any degree of excellence may 
 be attained. By publishing the lectures given in your College yo* 
 have increased the sphere of your iufluence, and made the clergy in 
 a manner your scholars. ***** The Bishop prays that 
 God may long give you health aud strength to continue your valua- 
 ble labours iu the education of the clergy. * * * 
 
 The Lord Bishop of Kilmore. 
 * * * * * ^ Your book on Sacred Eloquence supplies a 
 want long felt, and will, I am satisfied, be of the greatest advantage 
 
Opinions of Distinguished Ecclesiastics. 15 
 
 to all who desire to preach the truths of onr holy religion in a man- 
 ner worthj'' of its author, and calcuhited to produce fruit amongst 
 the faithful, * * ♦- 
 
 The Hector of the Catholic U)iivcrsiti/ of IrelamJ. 
 # # * # # Permit me to thank 3'ou for your beautiful 
 ■work on the " Theory and Practice of Preaching." * * * * j 
 have seen enough of it to convince me not only of its beauty, but 
 still more of its usefulness. I have heard more than once from 
 Prelates, to whom we have sent Priests from All Hallows, of the 
 fniits of your teaching in our College Class of Sacred Eloquence. 
 Your book will, through God's blessing, increase and perpetuate 
 these fmits. * * » i believe it was I who presented you to the 
 Bishop on the day when the words were addressed to you : Fato 
 verbi Dei relator : and, since you have so well fulfilled, in this work, 
 the condition expressed in the following words, I trust you will also 
 have an abundant share in the blessing : hahiturus si fideliter et 
 ntiUter officium tuum impleveris, partem cum cis, qui verhum Dei 
 bene administraverunt ab initio. * * * 
 
 The Very Rev. J. H. Newman, D.D., the Oratory, Birmingham. 
 *****! thank 3'ou very much for your volume. It 
 is full of interesting matter, and I hope it will have the circulation 
 and bear the fruit which it merits. * * You have done me a 
 gi'eat honour in quoting from my University publications. * » » 
 
 The President of Maynooth. 
 » # # # # Your book is just what was wanted, and I 
 shall gladly do all in my power to make it known. * * * 
 
 The President of St. Cuthbert's, Ushaw. 
 ***** Your work is most likely to be of much bene- 
 fit to Ecclesiastics, and I shall have much pleasure in recommend- 
 ing it to my friends. ***** 
 
 The President of St. Mary's, Oscott. 
 
 # # # * * J iianded your work ou Sacred Eloquence to 
 
 one of our Professors who was just then giving a course of Lectures 
 
 on the same subject. He has spoken so highly of it to his Pupils that 
 
 they have requested me to procure copies of it for their use. * * * 
 
OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 
 
 ***** The Clerical body in these countries has rea- 
 son to feel grateful to the Author of this work. • » » * Tj^e 
 leading principles of Sacred Eloquence are therein set forth in a 
 clear, simple, and practical manner by one who, for ten years, has 
 been actively engaged in teaching this matter. * * * * The 
 rules which make up the method ai'e simple and yet full, accurate 
 and yet not too technical, practical without ceasing to be parts of a 
 well adjusted theory. • » * « Tlie whole is seasoned with a 
 spirit of reverent piety, which cannot fail to impress the preacher 
 with a lofty idea of the dignity of the calling which makes him the 
 minister of Christ and the dispenser of the mysteries of God." — The 
 Irish Ecclesiastical Record, conducted under Episcopal Sanction. 
 
 "Our readers will not agree, as we do not agree, in all Mr. Pot- 
 ter's views ; but they will find in his pages food for reflection, well 
 cooked, if we majr follow out the simile, although not palatable to 
 many persons who, conceiving themselves born geniuses, decline to 
 be fettered by any rules but their own, and who consequently con- 
 tinually distress the ear, and otfend the taste both of the educated 
 who know what is good, and of the ignorant who very often have a 
 true instinct as to the merits of a preacher." — Church Times. 
 
 ""We commend Mr. Potter's work as one which may be of great 
 service in setting a good standard of Sacred Eloquence before aspir- 
 ants. The subject is well treated, and his work will be equally use- 
 ful to those already in the ministry." — The Reader. 
 
 " The author lays down the principles of Sacred Eloquence in a 
 clear, simple, and practical manner." — Public Opinion. 
 
 " He has gone through the subject completely, and produced an 
 admirable manual." — Month. 
 
 ""We have been struck especially with the practical, solid, and 
 sensible character of every part of the volume." — Weekly Register. 
 
 "He has done his work thoroughly and well." — Tablet. 
 
 " From its clearness of expression, the beauty of its language, and 
 the attractiveness of its style, cannot be too highly commended." — 
 Nation. 
 
 " He has handled his subject in such a manner as to bring it before 
 his readers with all the charm of novelty." — Freeman's Journal, 
 
THEOH Y 
 
Testificor coram Deo et Jesu Christo qui judieaturus est vivos et 
 mortuos, prsedica verbum, insta opportune, importune ; argue, ob- 
 secra, increpa in oinni patientid et doctriua. 
 
 2 Tim., iy. 
 
 Curam auimarum habentes, per se vel alios idoneos, si legitime 
 iinpediti fueriut, diebus saltern dominicis et festis solemnibus plebes 
 sibi commissas, pro su^ et earum capacitate pascant salutaiibus 
 verbis. ... Si quis eorum praestare negligat, per censuras eccle- 
 siasticas cogantur. 
 
 Prsecepto divino mandatum est omnibus quibus animarum cura 
 commissa est, oves suas . . . verbi divini praedicatione . . . 
 pascere 
 
 CoNCiL. Trid. De Keform. 
 

 SACRED ELOQUENCE, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTKODUOTORT. 
 
 IFTER the administration of the Holy 
 Sacraments, the minister of the altar is 
 called npon to discharge no duty more 
 sublime in itself, more conducive to the 
 glory of God, or more useful to his fellow-men, than 
 the worthy and becoming preaching of the Gospel of 
 our Lord Jesus Christ. In one sense, the effective 
 preaching of the Gospel may be said to be almost as 
 impoilant as the administration of the Sacraments ; 
 for, although it is true that the Sacraments are the 
 divine channels througli which His minister causes 
 the priceless blood of Christ to flow upon the souls 
 of men, it is equally true that, at least as regards 
 those who stand most in need of those Sacraments, 
 preaching is the ordinary means by which men are 
 brought under their influence. When the poor peni- 
 
20 Introductory. 
 
 tent is kneeling at our feet it is eiisy for us to recon- 
 cile him to his ofteudecl Maker ; but the difficulty is 
 to bring him to that point, and, as an ordinary rule, 
 it is only through the agency of the pulpit, that the 
 terrors of God's judgments, the sweetness of his mercy 
 and long-suffering are broUglit to exercise their saving 
 influence upon the sinner's soul. And as there are 
 many sinners in every flock, so, too are there many 
 souls who are striving to walk not merely in the way 
 of God's Commandments, but in the path of holy per- 
 fection ; souls who are longing to be tauaht what is 
 the holy, and the perfect, and the acceptable will of 
 God in their regard ; holy souls, who, by the perfect 
 discharge of their ordinary duties, are striving not 
 only at vitam habeant^ but, also, id ohundaiitias habe- 
 ant. And, as it is undoubtedly the duty of the pastor 
 to do all that lies in him to snatch the wandering 
 sheep of his flock from the jaws of the infernal wolf, 
 so, too, is it no less his duty to instruct the fervent and 
 simple souls who are to be found in every congrega- 
 tion, in all those matters the knowledge of which is 
 necessaiy in order to assist ttiem in their eflbrts to at- 
 tain the degree of holy perfection to which God has 
 called them ; that perfection which they, as persons 
 living in the world, are to acquire by constant union 
 .of their hearts -with Him ] by constant reference of 
 all their actions to Him ; by the performance of all 
 the duties of their state of life with that purity of 
 
Introductory. 21 
 
 intention which can alone render them pleasing to 
 Ilim, or worthy of supernatural reward. And how, 
 again, ordinarily speaking, are these feiTcnt souls to 
 be instructed in all these matters, except through the 
 medium of the pulpit ? 
 
 Hence it is that the preacher of the Gospel of 
 Jesus Christ is called upon to exercise a ministry 
 which is most sublime in itself, and one which, as it 
 may not be assumed without a divine vocation, surely 
 no man will be rash enough to attempt to discharge 
 without that fit and proper preparation which is due 
 to the Gospel which he preaches, and to Him who is 
 the author of it. 
 
 Be he the hiunblest coimtry curate addressing but a 
 congregation of simple and unlettered peasants, the 
 preacher, when he ascends the pulpit, does so never- 
 theless in the name and with the authority of God, 
 and with the same divine mission with which our 
 blessed Lord Himself came to make kuow^i the saving- 
 truths of His Gospel to men. Sicut misit me Pater 
 et ego miilo vos . . . euntes in mundum univer- 
 sum jprcedicate evangelium omni creaturoe 
 docete mnnes gentes* To him, as truly as to Moses 
 of old, doth Almighty God declare : Perge igilur et 
 ego ero in ore tuo, doceboque te quid loquaris.\ JVe 
 timeas a facie eorum : quia ego tecum sum-X To him, 
 does our divine Lord speak as truly and as really as 
 
 * Joan, XX. t Exod. iv, 12. X Jerem. i, 7. 
 
22 Ikteoductoet. 
 
 He did when He charged His apostles to teach His 
 Gospel to all nations ; promising at the same time to 
 be with them in their preaching, even to the consum- 
 mation of the world ; and imposing upon all men the 
 obligation of listening to His ministers with the same 
 reverence, and of paying the same obedience to them, 
 as to Himself Docenies eos se7-vare omnia quaecumque 
 mandavi vohis . . . Qui vos audit me audit, et 
 qui vos sjpemit me spernit* Hence it is that the true 
 minister of the Gospel realizes so deeply and so inti- 
 mately the sublimity and the vast importance of the 
 mission confided to him — Prcedicate evangelium. 
 Hence it is he labours so assiduously to prepare for his 
 ministry, that, forgetting himself and all mere earthly 
 ends, he may preach only Jesus Christ and Him cru- 
 cified ; that, like the great apostle of the Gentiles, he 
 may be able to exclaim, Hon enim qucero quoe vestra 
 sunt, sed vos.\ Hence it is that every tone of his 
 voice, every glance of his eye, and every gesture of 
 his hand, manifests how deeply he is penetrated with 
 the importance of the duty entrusted to him, and how 
 intimately he realizes the grandeur of the office which 
 he discliarges when he speaks as the ambassador of 
 Jesus Christ — Pro Christo legatione fungimur, tan- 
 quam Deo exhoriante per nos.^ Hence it is that he 
 preaches the Gospel of his Divine Master ami omni 
 imjperio, that he is " instant in season and out of sea- 
 * Luc. X, 16. + 2 Cor. xii, 14. ^ lb. v, 20. 
 
Introductory. 23 
 
 son, that he reproves, entreats, and rebukes, in all 
 patience and doctrine." And hence, too, it is, that 
 when he sees how God blesses the words of his mouth ; 
 when he sees how sinners are converted when he does 
 but appeal to them ; and how, under his teaching, the 
 just run on with giant strides in the way of holy per- 
 fection, the fervent minister of the Gospel is never 
 tired of labouring that he may prepare himself to 
 discharge more and more efficaciously the ministiy of 
 the Word : with a greater exactness in doctrinal teach- 
 ing ; with a greater facility of pleasing his hearers, 
 and of thus enchaining their attention ; and, above 
 all, with a greater power of influencing and moving 
 the wills of men, which is the ultimate end and object 
 of all preaching. 
 
 The means l^y which the sacred orator proposes to 
 himself to obtain his end is by instructing, by pleas- 
 ing, and by moping his flock. Docere, placere, et 
 mover e. These are the three elements of the power 
 by which the rhetorician acts upon the souls of his 
 fellow-men, and acquires his influence over them ; a 
 truth which St. Augustine has expressed in terms as 
 brief as they are to the point : Veritas pateat, Veri- 
 tas placeat, Veritas moveat. By clear and exact in- 
 struction, combined with solid argumentation, the 
 sacred orator is to enlighten and convince the under- 
 standing of his audience. By presenting that instruc- 
 tion and argumentation in a pleasing, graceful, and, so 
 
24 Intkoductory. 
 
 fur as his subject may permit or demand, in a polished 
 style and manner, he is to prepare the minds and 
 lieai-ts of his audience for those final and highest 
 strokes of art by which he aspires to influence their 
 wills and move them to his purpose. Finally, having 
 convinced the understanding by the force of his argu- 
 ments, whilst by the graces of his composition and his 
 dcliveiy he has at the same time rendered his hearers 
 atientos, benevolos, et dociles ; the speaker, by the 
 unction which he displays at once in his matter and 
 in its deliveiy, by the burning earnestness, the zeal 
 for the glory of God and the welfare and salvation 
 of the souls of his listeners which he manifests in 
 every tone of his voice, and even in every gesture of 
 his hand, acts upon the hearts of his hearers, turns 
 them whither he will, and moulds them to his pur- 
 pose, thus attaining the happ}^ result which every 
 orator, but more especially eveiy .preacher, must 
 necessarily propose to himself as the end and aim of 
 all his preaching, viz. : the persuading of his hearers 
 to take those good resolutions which he has already, 
 by his argumentation, convinced them they ought to 
 adopt. 
 
 It is one thing to convince om- auditors that they 
 are bound to take a certain step, it is another to per- 
 f<uade them to take it. Conviction is an essential part 
 of persuasion, but it is not persuasion. Persuasion, 
 i. e., the art of influencing the will, is the ultimate 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 25 
 
 end of all preaching, propei-1}' so called. It depends 
 on two things — 1st, on arguinent to prove the fitness 
 of the object proposed, and the expediency of the 
 means suggested; and — 2ndly, on ex/toriaiion, i. e., on 
 the exciting of men to adopt those means, by appeal- 
 ing to their passions.* This is the analysis of persua- 
 sion, and, as is evident, the orator, in order to persuade, 
 must undei'stand thoroughly the various i)arts of which 
 it is composed. He must know how to satLsfi/ the 
 judgment by solid argument, and he must know how 
 to 7nove the will by the skilful stining of the passions 
 which influence the human heail. We call one of 
 these the argumentative, and the other, the pathetic, 
 or moving part of a discourse. He wlio best knows 
 how to combine the two qualities^ in their due pro- 
 portion and measm-e, is undoubtedly the best and 
 most effective preacher ; and these pages have been 
 compiled in the humble hope of aiding the young 
 preacher, or the ecclesiastical student, in his efforts to 
 attain this two-fold excellence. 
 
 The dignity and grandeur of the office of the Chris- 
 tian preacher have, perhaps, never been more eloquently 
 described than in Lamartine's magnificent sketch of 
 Bossuet, the true prince of the French school of pul- 
 pit eloquence. We quote from the translation pub- 
 lished by Mr. Bentley, London :t 
 
 * Whately's " Elements of Rhetoric." 
 
 t"' Memoirs of Celebrated Characters,'' by Lamartiue. Loudon: 
 Richard Bentley. 
 
26 Intkoductoey. 
 
 " Tlie priest, in all his majest}^, his authority, his 
 intellectual pride, could not be better represented than 
 in the person of Bossuet. 
 
 " Bossuet, to exhibit hhnself as he was, — to develop, 
 in their extent and grandeur, the high qualities of 
 soul, genius, diplomacy, energy, and eloquence, with 
 which nature had endo\yed him, — could not have been 
 anything but a priest. 
 
 " This eminent person was made for the priesthood, 
 the pontificate, the altar, the vestibule of the cathe- 
 dral, the pulpit, the trailing robe, and the tiara ; any 
 other place, office, or habiliment, would be inconsist- 
 ent with such a nature. The mind could not picture 
 Bossuet to itself in the habit of a layman. He was 
 born a high-priest ; his nature and profession are so 
 indissolubly bound up and blended together, that even 
 thought "itself camiot separate them ; he is not a man, 
 but an oracle. 
 
 " That instinctive holiness which surrounds the 
 priest with a prestige of virtue superior to the rest of 
 mankind, is not entirely a chimera ; respect for the 
 priesthood is but an outward sign of that inward 
 veneration which eveiy pious mind feels towards the 
 Creator. The ministers of religion pass their lives in 
 more intimate communion with the Deity than mere 
 men of the woi'ld are accustomed to seek ; they have 
 holy names stamped upon their bosoms ; they wear 
 the livery of the King of kings : and when we salute 
 
Introductory. 27 
 
 them, we pay homage to the Master through Hi« ser- 
 vants. 
 
 "Moreover, they speak from the tribune of the 
 soul ; they are the orators of moral feeling ; the pul- 
 pit is their throne ; this throne, to the occupier who 
 luus genius to wield his power, and oppoilunity, is 
 greater than that of kings ; it is from thence the con- 
 sciences of men are governed. 
 
 -' Of all the eminences which a mortal may leach 
 on earth, the highest to a man of talent is incontesta- 
 bly the sacred pulpit. If this individual happens to 
 be a Bossuet ; that is to say, if he unites in his person 
 conviction to inspire the commanding attitude, purity 
 of life to enhance the power of truth, untiring zeal, 
 an air of imposing authorit}^, celebrity which com- 
 mands respectful attention, episcopal rank which con- 
 secrates, age which gives holiness of appearance, genius 
 which coiLstitutes the divinity of speech, retlective 
 power which marks the mastery of intelligence, sud- 
 den bursts of eloquence which carry the minds of 
 listeners by assault, poetic imageiy which adds lustre 
 to truth, a deep sonorous voice which reflects the tone 
 of the thoughts, silveiy locks, the paleness of strong 
 emotion, the penetrating glance and expressive mouth ; 
 — in a word, all the animated and well-varied gestures 
 which indicate the emotions of the soul ; — if such a 
 man issues slowly from his self-concentrated reflection, 
 as from some inward sanctuary ; if he suffers himself 
 
28 Iktkoductoky. 
 
 to be raised gradually by excitement, like the eagle, 
 the first heavy flapping of whose wings can scarcely 
 produce air enough to carry him aloft ; if he at length 
 respires freely, and takes flight ; if he no longer feels 
 the pulpit beneath his feet ; if he draws in a full 
 ])reath of the Divine Spirit, and pours fovtli unceas- 
 ingly from this lofty height, to his hearers, the inspi- 
 ration which comes to them as the word of God ; 
 this being is no longer individual man, he becomes an 
 organ of the Divine will — a prophetic voice. 
 
 " And what a voice ! A voice which is never 
 hoarse, broken, soured, irritated, or troubled by the 
 worldly and passionate struggles of interest peculiar 
 to the time ; a voice which, like that of the thunder 
 in the clouds, or the organ in the cathedral, has never 
 l)een anything but the medium of power and Divine 
 persuasion to the soul ; a voice which only speaks to 
 kneeling auditors ; a voice which is listened to in pro- 
 found silence, to which none reply save by an inclina- 
 tion of the head or by falling tears — those mute 
 applauses of the soul ! — a voice which is never refuted 
 or contradicted, even when it astonishes or wounds ; 
 a voice, in fine, which does not speak in the name of 
 opinion, which is vaiiable ; nor in the name of phi- 
 losophy, which is open to discussion • nor in the name 
 of coimtry, which is local ; nor in the name of regal 
 supremacy, wliich is temporal ; nor in the name of 
 the speaker himself, who is an agent transformed for 
 
Introductory. 29 
 
 the occasion ; but which spouks in the name of God, 
 an authority of language unequalled upon earth, and 
 against which the lowest murmur is impious and the 
 smallest opposition a bhisphemy." 
 
 " Such is the tribune of the priesthood, the tripod 
 of the prophet, the pulpit of the sacred orator. We 
 can only behold therein Bossuet, and we camiot recog- 
 nise Bossuet in any other place. His life is but the 
 history of his pulpit eloquence. The man is worthy 
 of the rostrum from which he preached ; no other 
 oratoiy has ever equalled his. Great names have been 
 selected and preserved, but Bossuet, whose genius 
 equals theii-s, excels them in the range and elevation 
 of his subject. They speak of Earth, while he dis- 
 courses of Heaven. Cicero does not surpass him in a 
 careful selection and ample supply of words ; Demos- 
 thenes possesses not superior energy of persuasion ; 
 Chatham is not more richly endowed with poetic 
 oratoiy ; the periods of Miral)eau do not flow more 
 easily ; Vergniaud is not more redundant of imageiy 
 and illustration. All have less elevation, extent, and 
 majesty in their language ; they were humai^ oratoi"S, 
 but Bossuet alone was divine ! To understand him 
 fully, we must fu'st mount to his own level, and en- 
 counter him in the Heavens." 
 
il 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 NECESSITY AND OBLIGATION OF DILIGENT PREPARA- 
 TION. 
 
 HERE are, no doubt, occasions in which a 
 pastor is so overwhelmed by press of busi- 
 ness, or is called upon so miexpectedly to 
 preach, that preparation is morally impos- 
 sible. In such circumstances, excused b}' his necessity 
 before God and man, he has a right to expect the 
 assistance of heaven, and the indulgence of his hear- 
 ers. With these exceptions, we have no hesitation in 
 asserting that the pastor of souls is bound to pi-epare 
 his discourses carefully, and with such an amount of 
 diligence as will render them efficacious to their end — 
 the salvation of his flock. 
 
 If he be bound sub gravi to instruct his people, he 
 must be bomid to prepare himself to do so in an eifec- 
 tive and fruitful manner, since there must be some pro- 
 poilion between the end and the means. It is an 
 incontestible fact that the preacher who speaks with- 
 out serious preparation, speaks, as an ordinary rule, 
 without order or solidity. He continually repeats 
 himself, runs off" into interminable or usele&s disres- 
 
Necessity of Diligent Preparation. 31 
 
 sions, iind sinotlicrs his idciis under u deluge of empty 
 verbiage. There are few preachers, more especially 
 young ones, Avho, when they venture to speak without 
 preparation, do not run the risk of acquitting them- 
 selves badly, and of incurring ship^NTeck before the 
 eyes of all. Besides, there are moments of sterility 
 in which even the readiest intellect finds itself baiTcn 
 and cold. There are a thousand influences which may 
 arise to discompose and cause us to lose the thread of 
 our discourse. Sometimes an inattentive audience, 
 sometimes an unforeseen circumstance, sometimes a 
 troublesome imagination which obtrudes itself upon 
 us, and, spite of all our efforts to repel it, disturbs the 
 order of our ideas and the chain of our reasoninof. 
 Hence, the reasonableness and truth of the proverbs, 
 " A sermon which costs tim preacher little to compose, 
 costs the audience a great deal to listen to,^^ and, 
 " That which costs little, is ivorth precisely/ what it 
 costs." Hence, we easily deduce the obligation by 
 which the pastor is bound to prepare his discourses 
 carefully, since, without such preparation, he runs the 
 risk of lowering himself in the eyes of his people, 
 and, what is much worse, of compromising his min- 
 istry. 
 
 The preacher who ascends the pulpit without prepa- 
 ration will scarcely escape being guilty of irreverence 
 to the Word of God. This divine Word, w4iich, ac- 
 cording to St. Augustine, merits the same respect as 
 
32 Necessity of Diligent Peepakation. 
 
 the body of Christ, is not to be presented to the peo- 
 ple except in such a guise as is proper to conciliate 
 their veneration and esteem. On the other hand, a, 
 good sermon is a difficult undertaking, and he who 
 supposes that it can be accomplished without much 
 patient preparation, without much reflection and la- 
 bour, deludes himself most egregiously. If even those 
 who prepare most carefully sometimes fail, what is 
 the certain fate of those who never prepare at all ? 
 Is it any wonder if they end in talking nonsense, in 
 becoming ludicrous through their empty assumption, 
 or pitiable from their miserable failure either to please, 
 to instruct, or to move ? 
 
 The young preacher who attempts to spealv without 
 pre]3aration is certainly wanting in his duty to God. 
 The ambassador who shoukl not worthily represent 
 his prince, who should not use his utmost efforts to 
 brino; these negotiations with which he has been 
 charged to a successful conclusion, would justly be 
 looked upon as a traitor and prevaricator. When the 
 preacher ascends the pulpit he represents the Divine 
 Majesty, he is the ambassador charged with the ^reat 
 and all-important interests of the glory of God, and 
 the salvation of immortal souls ; and is it likely that 
 the young preacher, weak from his very inexperience, 
 who presumes to treat of these momentous mattei-s 
 without all due and diligent preparation, will not dis- 
 honour his embassy by his negligence and his rashness, 
 
Necessity of Diligent Preparatio]!^. 33 
 
 will not expose those divine and eternal interests with 
 which he is charged to serious and, perhaps, irrepara- 
 ble injury ? 
 
 Does he tempt God by expecting a miracle to sup- 
 ply for his wilful negligence ; that is to say, by ex- 
 pecting to instruct and move his flock by means of a 
 discoui-se which contains neither instruction, nor any- 
 thing calculated to move the sinner's heart ; which is 
 wanting at once in clearness and order, in solidity and 
 unction ? It is true that the ultimate fruit and suc- 
 cess of our preaching depend upon Him who giveth 
 the increase, but it is equally true that the ordinary 
 Providence of God only thus crowns the eflbrts of 
 those who spare no pains, Avho omit no labour, to pre- 
 pare their discourses, to render them solidly instruc- 
 tive, and calculated by their unction and warmth to 
 produce salutary impressions upon the souls of the 
 hearers. 
 
 Not only does such a preacher fail in his duty 
 towards God, but also towards his audience. The 
 most hunible, equally with the rich and the learned, 
 have a right to be respected. They are equally pos- 
 sessed of immortal souls which have been redeemed 
 by the priceless blood of Jesus Christ, which are 
 equally destined to reign for eternity in heaven. They 
 have, therefore, an equal right to be treated with re- 
 spect, and if the discourse which is to be addressed 
 
 especially to the humble is, of its nature, more simple, 
 3 
 
34 Necessity of Diligent Preparatio^t. 
 
 it does not therefore follow that the preacher is ex- 
 empted from bestowing upon it that preparation which, 
 mutatis nnitandis, it demands from him. 
 
 We may, or we may not, be prepared to adopt the 
 opinion, of the theologian, Navarre, who holds that 
 the preachei; who habitually neglects to prepare his 
 sermons is guilty of a grave temptation of God ; but, 
 in any case, it seems ceitain that such a person incurs 
 a very serious responsibility. Maledictus qui facit 
 opus Dei negligenter* says Holy Writ, and it is diffi- 
 cult to conceive any work which is more truly the 
 opus Dei than the preaching of His Holy Gospel. 
 What sensible man, in order to save himself a little 
 labour, which, if he be a man of study and ecclesias- 
 tical habits, should be truly a labour of love, will run 
 the risk of charging his conscience with the eternal 
 loss of those souls who might, perchance, have been 
 saved had he laboured as he ought to have done to 
 prepare himself to instruct them better in their duty, 
 and to move their hearts more efficaciously to God ! 
 If «uch a negligence, according to Quintilian, be ut- 
 terly- unpardonable in a mere secular advocate, In 
 susceptd causa, perjidi ac prodiloris est, pejus ogere 
 quam possit^j Vfhat is to be said of the Christian 
 priest, who, if he fail in his duty, compromises not 
 merely the fortunes or the honour of worldlings, but 
 those interests which are infinitely higher, holier, and 
 * Jer. xlviii, 10. t Lib. xii, 9. 
 
Necessity of Diligent Pkeparation". 35 
 
 more sublime, the glory of God, and the salvation of 
 those souls for whom Christ died. If it be true that 
 each one is to be rewarded according to his labour. 
 JJniisquisque propriam tnercedem accipiet secundum 
 suum laborem* what reward is he to receive from his 
 jNIaster's hand who has no labour to show ; no souls 
 who have been instructed by him unto justice to lead 
 to that Master's feet ; he, whose words have been, in 
 very truth, but as the sounding brass and the tinkling 
 cymbal. 
 
 Nor let any one seek to make excuses for his negli- 
 gence, by pretending that he thus preaches more apos- 
 tolically. Let him remember that, if ceilaiu holy 
 men have produced very great fruit by the most sim- 
 ple and unpremeditated discourses, they were pos- 
 sessed of virtues and sanctity to which he can lay no 
 claim. If they ever spoke without preparation, it 
 was simply because, on account of their vast occupa- 
 tions and apostolic labours, preparation was morally 
 impossible ; and God, seeing their good will and their 
 A^alid excuse, blessed their good intention and crowned 
 their work with a benediction which amply supplied 
 for all its shortcomings in the way of positive prepara- 
 tion. Let him remember that the great Saints, who 
 are the preacher's best models, never desisted from 
 careful and studious preparation of their discoui'ses 
 St. Augustine, that master of sacred eloquence, eveu 
 * 1 Cor. iii, 8. 
 
'36 Necessity of Diligent Peeparation". 
 
 after having preached every Sunday for thirty years, 
 continued to prepare liis instructions witli the greatest 
 care, as he himself tells us at the end of his fourth 
 sermon on the 103rd Psalm. Magno labore qucesita 
 et inventa sunt : magno labore nuntiata et disputata 
 sunt : sit labor noster fructaosus vobis, et benedicel 
 anhna nostra Dominum. St. Chrysostom never in- 
 vited any one to his table, in order that he might have 
 more time to prepare his instructions, applying to 
 himself the words of the apostle, JSfon est oequum nos 
 derelinquere verbum Dei et ministrare mensis ;* and 
 St. Charles Borromeo never considered himself ex- 
 cused from this preparation, even in his busiest mo- 
 ments and notwithstanding the facility which he had 
 acquired from long study and frequent practice. In 
 fine, St. Liguorio, spite of the simplicity both of style 
 and expression which he requires in the preacher, 
 never allowed the members of his congregation to 
 ascend the pulpit unless they had first written what 
 they intended to say, until such time as their talent 
 had been so developed by study and practice as to 
 render this minute preparation unnecessaiy. But, 
 even then, he required them to meditate their matter 
 profoundly, and to make a well-defined and substantial 
 plan of their discoui-se. And, if this be the teaching 
 and the practice of those who ought to be at once his 
 guides and his models, have we gone beyond due lim- 
 * Act. vi, 2. 
 
Necessity of Diligent Preparation. 37 
 
 its in thus pointing out to the young preacher the 
 obligation under which he lies of devoting careful, 
 solid, and studious preparation to his discourses ? Do 
 we say too much when Ave affirm that, in ordinary cir- 
 cumstances, there are few clergymen who, if they 
 begin earlij in the week, and husband their leisure 
 discreetly, will not be able to find ample time to pre- 
 pare their matter and the best manner of delivering 
 it, without in the least degree trenching upon that 
 relaxation which is becoming, useful, and necessaiy 
 for them ? Do we go beyond our province in again 
 earnestly reminding the ecclesiastical student, or the 
 young preacher, of the sublime and all-important in- 
 terests which are at stake, the advancement of God's 
 greater glory, and the salvation of immortal souls ? 
 It is ceiiain that there are many of his flock who will 
 never acquire that knowledge which is absolutely 
 necessary to salvation unless they acquire it from his 
 teaching ; many who will never be reconciled to their 
 ofiended Maker, unless the terror of God's judgments 
 are~driven into their souls by his preaching. Is it too 
 much to remind him that his reward is to be accord- 
 ing to his labour — to remind him that he who in- 
 stnicts even one soul unto justice shall shine for all 
 eteiiiity like a star in the kingdom of his Father ? 
 Is it too much to encourage him to take upon himself, 
 cheerfully and willingly, that labour which the due 
 discharge of this most holy and most important work 
 
38 Necessity of Diligent Peepaeation. 
 
 will require at his hands, by the remembrance that the 
 suiFerings of this time are not worthy to be compared 
 with the gloiy that is to come ? 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 REMOTE PREPARATIOISr FOR PREACHING. 
 
 I REACHING is essentially a practical work. 
 Although, whether we consider the mission 
 and authority of the preacher or the mat- 
 ter and end of his preaching, one of the 
 highest works to which the energies of man can be 
 devoted, it is equally true that it is essentially a prac- 
 tical work, with a practical end to be attained by 
 practical means ; and, whilst in our preparation to 
 discharge the sacred obligation of preaching the Gos- 
 pel, we are, according to the famous rule of St. Igna- 
 tius, to pray as if everything depends upon God, we 
 are to labour as if everything depends upon ourselves. 
 In the follo^^^ng pages we therefore propose to con- 
 sider : — I. The preparation, remote and proximate, for 
 preaching. II. The method to be followed in com- 
 posing a sermon ; and, III. The manner of deliver- 
 ing it. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 STYLE. 
 
 The remote preparation for preaching consists in the 
 employment of certain preparatory means which are 
 
40 Eemote Peepakation foe Peeaching. 
 
 calculated to give us a facility when we come to the 
 actual work of composition. It would, perhaps, be 
 more correct to say, that the remote preparation for 
 preaching consists in the formation of our style, which, 
 we need scarcely remark, is a most important matter. 
 It is not so easy to explain what we mean by style. 
 It is not merely language, neither does it consist in 
 words. Perhaps the best idea we can form of indi- 
 vidual style is that of Dr. Blair, Avho describes it as 
 the peculiar manner in which a man expresses his con- 
 ceptions by means of language. Style must, there- 
 fore, necessarily have some reference to the manner in 
 which a man thinks. It is a painting, in words, of 
 the ideas which are born in a man's mind, and of the 
 manner in which they are born there ; and, hence, as 
 no two men think in precisely the same manner, so no 
 two men will have precisely the same style. Hence, 
 too, in proportion as a man's mind is bold, clear, oi'ig- 
 inal, logical or sentimental, Avill his style partake of 
 those qualities, if he be able to express his thoughts 
 Avith facility in words. 
 
 There are many men who think with great vigour, 
 justice, and originality, and who, nevertheless, when 
 they attempt to speak or write, are said to have a veiy 
 bad style, and the reason of this is, that, either from 
 some natural failing, or, more probably, from want of 
 early training, they do not possess such a command of 
 language as enables them to express their own thoughts 
 
Remote Peeparation for Preaching. 41 
 
 as they conceived them. Hence, there is a want of 
 haimony and *concord between the thought and the 
 manner in which it is expressed. The speaker feels 
 that he is not saying what he thought in the way in 
 which he conceived it ; that he is endeavouring to ex- 
 press his idea in language which neither suits it nor 
 expresses it ; and, hence, as a natural consequence, 
 that he expresses weakly and badly ideas which in 
 themselves were original and powerful ; and which, 
 if he could have put them into words, might have left 
 their mark upon his fellow-men. 
 
 The possession, therefore, of a good style, supposes 
 that a man thinks well, and that he expresses those 
 thoughts well. It supposes, too, that, as every man 
 of mind thinks in a manner which, under some re- 
 spect, is peculiar to himself, so, he expresses himself 
 in a manner peculiar to himself ; or, in other words, 
 in a manner which is his own ; and, according as the 
 logical or sentimental faculty predominates in his 
 nature, with a predominance of one or other of these 
 qualities in his style. 
 
 The following admirable remarks on this subject 
 occur in Dr. Newman's " Essays on Univei-sity Sub- 
 jects :"*— 
 
 " A great author, Gentlemen, is not one who merely 
 has a copia verborum, whether in prose or verse, and 
 can, as it were, turn on at his will any number of 
 
 * Essay ii., Literature. 
 
43 Remote Preparation^ for Preaching. 
 
 splendid phrases and swelling sentences ; but he is one 
 who has something to say and knows 'how to say it. 
 I do not claim for him, as such, any great depth of 
 thought, or breadth of view, or philosophy, or sagac- 
 ity, or knowledge of human nature, or experience of 
 human life, though these additional gifts he may have, 
 and the more he has of them the greater he is ; but I 
 ascribe to him, as his characteristic gift, in a large 
 sense the faculty of expression. He is master of the 
 two-fold Aoyof, the thought and the word, distinct, 
 but inseparable from each other. He may, if so be, 
 elaborate his compositiors, or he may pour out his 
 improvisations, but in either case he has but one aim, 
 and is conscientious and single-minded in fulfilling it. 
 That aim is to give forth what he has within him ; 
 and from his very earnestness it comes to pass, that, 
 whatever be the splendour of his diction or the har- 
 mony of his periods, he has with him the charm of 
 an incommunicable simplicity. Whatever be his sul> 
 ject, high or low, he treats it suitably and for its own 
 sake. If he is a poet, ' nil molitur inej)te.' If he is 
 an orator, then too he speaks, not only ' distincte ' and 
 ' splendide,' but also ' ajjfe.' His page is the clear 
 mirror of his mind and life — 
 
 'Quo fit, ut omnis 
 TotivA patent veluti descripta tabell^ 
 Vita senis.' 
 
 " He writes passionately, because he feels keenly ; 
 
Remote PREPAKATio]sr for Preachixg. 43 
 
 forcibly, because he conceives vividly ; he sees too 
 clearly to be vague ; he is too serious to be otiose ; he 
 can analyse his sulvject, and therefore he is rich ; he 
 embraces it as a Avhole and in its parts, and therefore 
 he is consistent ; he has a firm hold of it, and there- 
 fore he is luminous. When his imagination wells up, 
 it overflows in ornament ; when his heart is touched, 
 it thrills along his verse. He always has the right 
 word for the right idea, and never a word too much. 
 If he is brief, it is because few words suffice ; if he is 
 lavish of them, still each word has its mark, and aids, 
 not embarrasses, the vigorous march of his elocution. 
 He expresses what all feel, but all cannot say ; and 
 his sayings pass into proverbs among his people, and 
 his phrases become household words and idioms of 
 their daily speech, which is tesselated with the rich 
 fragments of his language, as we see in foreign lauds 
 the marbles of Roman grandeur worlved into the walls 
 and pavements of modern palaces. 
 
 " Such pre-eminently is Shakespeare among our- 
 selves ; such pre-eminently Virgil among the Latins ; 
 such in their degree are all those writers, who in every 
 nation go by the name of Classics. To pailicular 
 nations they are necessarily attached from the circum- 
 stance of the variety of tongues, and the peculiarities 
 of each ; but so far they have a catholic and ecu- 
 menical character, that what they express is common 
 
44 Remote Preparatiox for Preachi^tg. 
 
 to the whole race of man, and they alone are able to 
 express it." 
 
 These i-emarks sufficiently demonstrate how impor- 
 tant it is that every man who aspires by inclination, or 
 who is bound by duty, to address his fellow-men, 
 should possess a good style, and a st}'le which is his 
 own. As an ordinary rule, the foundation of a good 
 style must be laid in the preparatory classes of poetry 
 and rhetoric which form a necessary part of the edu- 
 cation of eveiy clergyman ; and it is evident that it 
 would be out of place here to enter into a considere- 
 tion of those qualities which form the essential condi- 
 tions of a good style, in the general acceptation of the 
 term ; tis, for example, the perspicuity and ornamen- 
 tation of language ; the clearness, unity, strength, and 
 harmony, which are required to constitute a perfect 
 sentence, and the manner of employing the various 
 figures of speech. Any one Avishing for more infornui- 
 tion on what we may call the fundamentals of style, 
 may read with profit Blair's " Lectures on Rhetoric 
 and Belles Lettres," or an}^ of the more modern works 
 on the subject. When, therefore, we speak of the re- 
 mote preparation for preaching as consisting in the 
 employment of certain practical means which are cal- 
 culated to give us a facility in actual composition, and 
 in the formation of our style, we use the term style in 
 its widest sense, and we also take for granted in the 
 student the possession of at least a fair preparatory 
 
Remote Preparation for Preaching. 45 
 
 English education, together with a knowledge of the 
 principles of English composition, and a reasonable 
 facility in their use. The remote preparation, in this 
 sense, for preaching consists — In a judicious cotuse 
 of reading : In a collection of good and striking mat- 
 ter : In the practice of composition. 
 
 SECTION 11. 
 
 A JUDICIOUS COURSE OF READING. 
 
 By a judicious course of reading is not meant, in this 
 place, such a course of reading as we undeilake with 
 the view of collecting materials to aid us in the actual 
 composition of our discourse. * We shall speak of this 
 later on, but, at present, Ave are merely considering 
 that course of studious and retiective readins: which is 
 entered upon for the purpose of forming onr style, of 
 cultivating our taste, and of developing to the utmost 
 those talents with which nature may have endowed us. 
 It is certain that the studious reading of good models 
 is the most excellent and most efficacious means of 
 forming our style, and of developing our taste. Hence, 
 the celebrated saying of Seneca, Longum iter 'pei 
 prcecepta, breve el efficax per exempla. Those rules 
 and precepts, which are in themselves so good and so 
 useful, are never half so efficacious or striking as when 
 the}' are practically brought home to us in their appli- 
 cation by a powerful writer ; and, in fact, it is only in 
 
46 Remote Peeparatiok for Preaching. 
 
 such application that we thoroughly comprehend the 
 hearing of those principles, which, until we see them 
 thus applied, must be to us more or less theoretical. 
 It is this practical application which enables us to un- 
 derstand them, which reveals to us their real significa- 
 tion, which shows them to us in practice, and thus, 
 whilst we are careful to retain to the full our own 
 individuality, assists us to form and develop our own 
 peculiar style. So ti-ue is it that the judicious read- 
 ing of good models is one of the most efficacious ways 
 of forming our style, that it is almost impossible to 
 read such writers without insensibly acquiring, in some 
 degree, their manner of expressing themselves ; even 
 although we may read without any such object before 
 our minds. 
 
 That we may derive full benefit from such a course 
 of reading we must observe during it certain practical 
 rules : — 
 
 1. We must, agreeably to the counsel of Qiu'ntilian, 
 Dill non nisi ojyiimus quisque, et qui credentem sibi 
 mininie fallit legendus est* be content to confine our- 
 selves for a long time, nntil our style is formed, to a 
 smaU number of g-ood and standard works. The rea- 
 son of this is evident. By reading works of inferior 
 merit the young writer exposes himself to be led astray 
 by that false and meretricious style, both of thought 
 and of word, which is so common at the present day, 
 * Lib. x., cap. 1. 
 
KeMOTE PEEPARATIOIf FOR PREACHING. 47 
 
 and which prevails to such an extent in the sensational 
 novels and the flimsy essay writing of our time. He 
 exposes himself to the danger of taking as true elo- 
 quence that which is false to the last degree, and of 
 thus, perhaps irretrievably, ruining his style. On the 
 other hand, by reading, studiously and attentively, a 
 small ninnber of reidly good writers in that peculiar 
 departmeut of eloquence which we aspire to cultivate, 
 we become tilled with their spirit — ^with their manner 
 of thinking and of speaking. We make them, so to 
 speak, our o^vn ; and, thus cultivating and developing 
 our own peculiar talent, we acquire a true tiiste, and 
 form a just, peculiar, and more or less striking style ; 
 whilst those who read many books, without thoroughly 
 studying any, derive but veiy little solid fruit from 
 their reading. 
 
 2. Besides confining ourselves to a few standard 
 writei-s, we must also take care not to read too much. 
 In such a course of reading as that which we are now 
 considering, it is a golden ride to read but little at a 
 time, and to meditate on that little very deeply. If 
 we read too much at once the mind becomes fatigued, 
 and the eye merely rests upon the page, but we derive 
 from our reading no clear, distinct, or lasting ideas. 
 It is essential, then, to think much. If, for example, 
 we are studying the sermon of some celebrated writer, 
 we shall examine the plan and general arrangement 
 of the discourse, with the mutual connection of the 
 
48 Eemote Pkeparation for Preaching. 
 
 various pai-ts. We eudeavour to strip the proofs, and 
 the reasons brought forward iu support of them, of 
 all the external influence which they may derive from 
 the name and authority of the writer, by considering 
 them in themselves. We endeavour to weigh them 
 in the balance of their own simple value, and to dis- 
 cover whether they are really solid, whether they are 
 to the point, and whether each one is in its proper 
 place. We endeavour to put om*selves in the position 
 of the author. We say to oui*selves : " Here I had 
 such or such a point to prove, and this is the way I 
 have proved it." After having thus analyzed the dis- 
 course, and placed its skeleton before us ; having the 
 divisions and various proofs of the author clearly in 
 our mind ; we proceed to consider how he amplifies 
 and embellishes these primary ideas ; ho^v he clothes 
 this skeleton in such rich and beautiful garments; by 
 "what figures of speech, and by what strokes of ora- 
 tory, he renders such a proof so telling and effective. 
 A^'e endeavour to penetrate and to master the art with 
 which he applies the rules and precepts of rhetoric to 
 his subject, and, thus, perhaps, we shall discoAcr, to 
 our own great profit, our author's happy secret, and 
 what.it is which enables him to express his ideas so 
 powerfully and so well. In order to fix the subject 
 more deeply in our minds, it is most useful occasion- 
 ally to make a written analysis of the matter which 
 we are reading; considering — if the subject of our 
 
Remote PREPARAxioiir for Preaching. 49 
 
 §tudy be a semion or other formal discourse — the na- 
 ture of the plan, the proofs which are 1)rought for- 
 ward in support of the leading proposition to be sus- 
 tained, and the principal oratorical developments of 
 those proofs. This habit of analyzing what we read 
 is of the greatest utility. It accustoms us to a spirit 
 of reflection; it familiarizes us with order and method; 
 whilst, at the same time, it engraves deeply on our 
 memory the most striking beauties of the work Ave 
 are perusing. Several of the most successful writers 
 ■with whom we are acquainted, Avere, in their youth, 
 assiduous in the practice of thus analyzing the matter 
 which they read. 
 
 3. In his choice of Ijooks the young student must 
 distrust his OA^•n judgment, and defer to that of men 
 Avho are his elders in }'ears, and his superiors in 
 knoAvledge and Avisdom. It does not foUoAv because a 
 book is popular that, therefore, it is a good model on 
 Avliich to form one's style. Many of the most popu- 
 lar works of the present day are about the last Avliich 
 a student should take up for this purpose. Let him 
 apply his mind to the study of such Avorks alone as 
 have been consecrated l)y the verdict of ages, or placed 
 in the fii-st rank by the decided and unvarying judg- 
 ment of those who are best qualified to guide public 
 opinion. Too many books is, perhaps, owe of the 
 greatest evils of our age, and noAV, more than ever, it 
 4 
 
50 Eemote Preparation for Preachin^g. 
 
 is necessary for the student to apply the old precept, 
 JVbyi mulla, sed multum* to his reading. 
 
 Amongst the worlds to which he will direct his at- 
 tention, the Holy Scriptures most certainly hold the 
 first place. For boldness of thought, for grandeur 
 of conception, and sul^limity of style, the books of 
 the Old Testament are not to be approached. It is 
 scarcely necessary to remark that it is generally ad- 
 mitted that most of the books of the Old Testament 
 were written in verse, or in some kind of measured 
 numbers. The general construction of the Hebrew 
 poetry is very singular. Each period or vei-se is di- 
 vided into correspondent, and generally equal num- 
 bers, which answer to one another botli in sense and 
 ui sound. In the first member of the verse some sen- 
 timent is expressed. In the second memljer the same 
 seuiiment is amplified, or repeated in difterent terms, 
 or perhaps contrasted with its opposite; but always in 
 such manner that the same structure is preserved, 
 and generally, nearly the same number of words. 
 Instances of this occur everywhere in the Old Tes- 
 tament. Let us take the 95tli Psalm as an exemplifi- 
 cation of our meaning : — 
 
 First Memher. Second Memder. 
 
 SiBg ye to the Lord a new canticle. Sing to the Lord all the earth. 
 
 Sing ye to the Lord aud bless his Show forth his salvation from 
 
 name. day to day. 
 
 * Plin., Jun. lib. vii, c. xi. 
 
Eemote Preparation for Preachixo. 51 
 
 Declare his gluiy among the Gen- His wonders among all peopU;. 
 
 tiles. 
 For the Lord is great and exceed- He is to be feared above all 
 
 ingly to be praised. gods. 
 
 Praise and beauty are before him. Holiness and majesty iu his 
 
 sanctuary. 
 
 ^yQ may clearly deduce the reason for this form of 
 composition from the manner in which the Hebrews 
 were accustomed to sing their sacred hymns. These 
 liyinns Avere performed by alternate bands of singers 
 and musicians. For instance, one band began the 
 hymn, "The Lord reigneth, let the earth rejoice," 
 whereupon the chorus, or alternate band, took up the 
 corresponding verse, " Let the multitude of the isles 
 be glad thereof." We have ventured to say that the 
 Ileljrew poetry is unapproachal)le in its grandeur and 
 sublimity. What more magnificent than the language 
 of the 23rd Psalm, which ^ye may take as an example, 
 and which is supposed to have been composed on the 
 occasion of brino;ino; back the Ark of tbe Covenant 
 to ]Mount Zion. The whole people are following in 
 devout procession. They begin to ascend the sacred 
 mount, when the voices of some choristers are heard, 
 asking " Who shall ascend into the mountain of the 
 Lord, or who shall stand in his holy place ? " With 
 a burst of jubilant harmony the entire body respond, 
 " The innocent iu hands and the clean of heart." As 
 they approach the doors of the tabernacle we haxa 
 another bui-st of triumph and praise : " Lift up your 
 heads, ye princes; and be ye lifted up, ye everlasting 
 
53 Eemote Pkepaeation por Peeaching. 
 
 gates; and the King of Gloiy shall come in." Here 
 ao-ain we have the semi-chorus askino- : " Who is this 
 King of Gloiy ? " to which, as the ark is introduced 
 into the tabernacle, the answer is given in another 
 shout of triumphant jubilee : " The Lord, strong and 
 mighty; the Lord, mighty in battle." 
 
 The sacred poetry is distinguished by the- strength 
 and conciseness of its style ; and we may safely say 
 that no other work so abounds with bold and life-like 
 figures. It is alive, to use a homely expression, with 
 metaphors, comparisons, allegories, and personifica- 
 tions. The pas-toral habits of the Hebrew people and 
 the peculiar nature of their country, its trees and flow- 
 ers, its mountains and valleys, its long periods of 
 drouo-ht, and the almost mao-ical influence of its fer- 
 tilizing showers, its earthquakes and tempests, its 
 whirlwinds and darkness, are all brought into play in 
 the sacred poetry, and with an imagery that is natural 
 and expressive in the highest measure. Hence the 
 magnificent figure in which Isaiah describes the earth 
 " realing to and fro, like a drunkard; " as, also, the 
 appearance of the Almighty described in Psalm 17. / 
 
 The style of the poetical books of the Old Testa- 
 ment is beyond that of all others fervid and bold. It 
 cannot be compared with the efi'usions of even the 
 most gifted of merely human poets. It is often irreg- 
 ular, and often abrupt. Sometimes its connexion is 
 obscure, and its figures heaped upon one another 
 
Remote Pkeparation for Preachin^g. 53 
 
 almost to confusion; still, there is but one word which 
 expresses its character. It is sublime. Sublimity is 
 its characteristic. Other poetry may be elegant, may 
 be polished, may even burn with passion, but the 
 poetry has yet to be written which approaches, even 
 within an infinite distance, to the sublimity of the 
 poetry of Holy Writ; and we can best understand 
 this when we reflect that the poetiy of the Scriptures 
 is the burst of inspiration, the language of men who 
 are endeavouring to express, as far as human language 
 can express them, the burning thoughts, the sublime 
 conceptions, the grand ideas, which have been born 
 of God. 
 
 Not only do the sacred wi'itings abound in the 
 highest exemplifications of all that renders poetry 
 sublime and beautiful, but they also aftbrd us choice 
 examples of the different kinds of poetical composi- 
 tion. The book of Proverbs, and that of Ecclesiastes, 
 are striking examples of the didatic species of poetry. 
 The lamentation of David over his friend Jonathan, 
 as also over his unfortunate sou Absolom, are speci- 
 mens of elegiac poetry, as tender and plaintive as were 
 ever penned; whilst the book of the Lamentations of 
 Jeremiah is prol)ably the most perfect elegiac compo- 
 sition in the world. The Canticle of Canticles is a 
 beautiful example of pastoral poetry, Avhilst the Old 
 Testament is full of specimens of lyric poetry — that 
 is, of compositions intended to be sung with music. 
 
54 Eemote Peepaeatioj^ foe Peeachixg. 
 
 Besides the song of jNIoses, of Deborah, aiul many 
 others, the whole book of the Psalms may be consid- 
 ered as a collection of sacred odes, exhibiting- that 
 form of composition in all its varied and most striking 
 forms. 
 
 Our space will not permit iis to enter into an exami- 
 nation of the characteristics of the style of the various 
 sacred writers, but we cannot pass from this suljject 
 Avithout particularly calling the attention of the stu- 
 dent to the majestic and unparalleled grandeur of the 
 compositions of the Prophet Isaiah. Majesty, truly, 
 is the characteristic of his style. In the grandeur of 
 his conceptions, and the wonderful power with which 
 he expresses them, he stands alone; and we can read- 
 ily conceive what is related of Bossuet — viz., that he 
 never sat down to compose without previously reading 
 a chapter of this prophet, after ^ve have heiird Lamar- 
 tine's account of the impression which Avas made upon 
 him l:)y the Scriptures even in his childish days.* 
 
 " Tlie Blhle, and above all the poetical portions of ' 
 Holy Writ, struck as if with lightning, and dazzled 
 the eyes of the child; he fancied that he saw the liv- 
 ing tire of Sinai, and heard the voice of Omnipotence 
 re-echoed b}- the rocks of Horeb. liis God was Jeho- 
 vah; his lawgiver, Moses; his high-priest, Aaron; his 
 poet, Isaiah; his country, Judtea. The vivacity of 
 his imagination, the poetical bent of his genius, the 
 * "Memoirs of Celebrated Characters," by Lainartiue. 
 
Remote Preparation for Preaching. 55 
 
 auulog}- of Ills d:sp(xsiti()ii to that of the Orientals, — 
 the fervid nature of the people and ages described, 
 the sublimity of the lanuiiage, the cverlaatiiig novelty 
 of the histoi'}', the grandeur of the laws, the piercing 
 eloquence of the hymns, and finally, the ancient, con- 
 secrated, and traditionally reverential character of the 
 book, transformed Bossuet at once into a biblical en- 
 thusiast. The metal was malleable; the impression 
 was received, and remained indeli1)ly stamped. This 
 child became a prophet : such he was born, such he 
 was as he grew to manhood, lived, and died — the bible 
 transfused into a man." 
 
 As Isaiah is the most sublime, so David is the most 
 pleasing of the sacred poets, -whilst Job is distin- 
 guished by his powers of description. We have 
 spoken at some little length of the beauties of the 
 sacred wi'itings, because we liiiow no other work which 
 can l)e of such service to the student in storing his 
 mind with the grandest conceptions which have ever 
 been expressed in words. We know not where he 
 will acquire such true and, at the same time, such 
 magnificent ideas of the majesty of God, as those 
 which are given by Isaiah and Job, by Moses and 
 Baruch; where he will find an\1:hing half so sweet, so 
 tender and pathetic, as the exhortations of Moses to 
 the Israelites; or where he will discover such a per- 
 fect blending of simplicity of style with grandeur of 
 conception as in the discourses of our Lord Jesus 
 
56 Remote Prepaeation for Preaching. 
 
 Christ, as related in the Gospel of St. John, whei*e 
 the Divinity seems to be sensibly present in every 
 Avord. 
 
 It is impossible to read the sacred writings with 
 reverent and stndious attention without havino; the 
 mind elevated and enlarged, the imagination devel- 
 oped and cultivated, and, above all, the heart moved 
 with the deepest and the holiest emotions. If we 
 read the Scriptures cai'efuUy and constantly, we begin 
 by degrees to acquire the Scriptural tone of thought, 
 and to find a facility in the use of Scriptural language. 
 We begin to clothe om* ovm poor ideas in the language 
 of Scripture, and the}^ at once become subhme. 
 
 The style which has been foniied upon, and, so too 
 speak, consecrated by the study of the Holy Scrip- 
 tures, gives an unction to our discourse which renders 
 it efficacious beyond our fondest hopes. As we can- 
 not read those sacred pages without feeling a love for 
 Siuictity and truth, without feehng a desire to become 
 better men, so, if we have read them until our stj-le is 
 formed upon them, and our hearts impregnated with 
 their spirit, we shall speak with a power, at once 
 sweet and efficacious, which we can derive from no 
 other source. What it is that gives their force and 
 charm to the writings of St. Bernard, and causes us to 
 regard them almost as if they were inspired, but the 
 fact that they are full to overflowing with the Holy 
 Scriptures ? The Saint had studied the Sacred Writ- 
 
Eemote Preparation for Preachiistg. 57 
 
 ings until he Avas thoroughly imbued, not only with 
 their train of thought, but also with their mode of 
 expression; and, in proportion as we, in our humble 
 measure and degree, imitate him in our devout study 
 of the same holy book, shall we approach to the 
 beauty of his style, to the unction of his language, and 
 to his influence over the hearts and wills of our fellow- 
 men, in leading them to the feet of Jesus Christ, the 
 end and aim of all our study and of all our preacliing. 
 Great advantage may be derived by the student of 
 sacred eloquence from a judicious perusal of the writ- 
 ings of the Holy Fathers. At the same time it is 
 probable that but few Avill have the opportunity, or 
 perhaps the inclination, to devote much time to this 
 study. Amongst the Greek Fathers, the writings of 
 St. Chrysostom, St. Basil, and St. Gregory Nazianzen; 
 and, amongst the Latins, those of St. Augustine and 
 St. Bernard will probably be found the most useful in 
 assisting the sacred orator to form his style. Roll in 
 remarks that any one who possesses the homilies of St. 
 Chrysostom, and the sermons of St. Augustine upon 
 the Old and New Testament, is amply provided wnth 
 models for every kind of sermon. We would certainly 
 wish to add St. Bernard to the list, since the devotion 
 and unction which breathe through all his writings, 
 and the beauty of his style, render his works of ines- 
 timable value to the sacred orator. Striking extracts 
 fi-om the Fathers may be found in the Thesaurus 
 
58 Eemote Pkepaeation for Peeaching. 
 
 Pati'um, but it is better, when it can be clone, to go to 
 the original sources for our reading on this head. 
 
 In the space at our disposal it is obviously impos- 
 sible to enter into a critical examination of those works 
 in the class of secular literatin-e which may be consid- 
 ered "standard," and to the perusal of which the stu- 
 dent may safely and usefully devote his attention. 
 There are certain works which the most learned and 
 cultivated of all ages have nnanimously concurred in 
 viewing as " standard," and to this judgment, as we 
 have already remarked, the young student must ha 
 content to defer. Amongst these works is Demos- 
 thenes in the Greek, and Cicero in the Latin. A per- 
 son anxious to cultivate his style could scarcely take 
 a more eflectual means of doing so than b}'' carefully 
 translatino; the orations of Cicero into oood Enolish. 
 As regards our English authors, it will not, perhaps, 
 be rash to assert that Siiakespeare is our greatest ex- 
 ample of whatever is beautiful and refined in thought, 
 glowing in imagination, and strong in w^oixls. In 
 nervous language — language which soars immeasur- 
 ably above the common-place words of ordinary men, 
 Shakespeare is facile princeps. To the man who 
 aspires to acquire a nei"vous style, and an idiom that 
 shall be at once po^verful and pure, we say unhesitat- 
 ingly, let him study the Bible and Shakespeare; and 
 there was veiy great force in the remark made by 
 Archbishop Sharp, a distinguished dignitary of the 
 
Remote Preparation for Preaching. 59 
 
 Establisliiiiciit, wlien he said, " There are two books 
 which made me an Archbishop, and they were the 
 Bible and Shakespeare." Amongst the writers of piu-e 
 English of our day, we know no one who holds a 
 higher place than the venerable Dr. Newman, and we 
 know no works which the sacred orator can peruse 
 with greater profit than the " Occasional Sermons," 
 and some of the " Discourses to ^Slixed ConorcGa- 
 tions," of that illustrious author. 
 
 The perusal of poetiy and of w^orks of fiction is 
 useful within certain and Avell-defined limits. The 
 poetiy must be good^ such as will cultivate the imagi- 
 nation without sullying it, whilst the fiction is only 
 useful in as far as it reveals the woikinirs of the hu- 
 man heart, and is true to life. Anything like inditi- 
 crimindte reading in these branches of literature is 
 attended W'itli so many dangers, and dangers of such 
 deadly nature to the ecclesiastic, that the student, 
 more especially the young one, will, if' he be W' Jse, 
 altogether mistrust his own judgment on this subject, 
 and be guided by the opinion of his professor, or 
 some other discreet person, in the selection of such 
 works in general literature as it may be useful or ex- 
 pedient for him to read. Whatever may be the sub- 
 • ject of his reading, he will above all things remember, 
 that he is reading for the one sole end of preparing 
 himself to be a worthy ambassador of Christ; that he 
 may be able to preach the Gospel cum oimii im])erio, 
 
60 KeMOTE PrEPARATIOX for PREACHIN"a. 
 
 as well as with dignity and grace; tliat, b}' tlie wor- 
 thy and efficacious use of the great instrument which 
 Christ has deigned to j^lace in his unworthy hands, he 
 may not only lead his flock into the joossessiou of 
 eternal life, but also to the attainment of a high de- 
 gree of glory in the mansions of the heavenly Jerusa- 
 lem. Ut vitam Jiabeant, et abundantius liaheant. 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 A COLLECTION OF USEFUL AND STRIKING MATTER. 
 
 1. Besides forming his style, there is another very 
 practical result which the student ought to derive 
 from his studies, and it consists in making a collection, 
 
 in writing, of all those matters which he hiis found 
 
 * 
 
 most striking, or best adapted for his object as a 
 
 preacher, in the course of his reading. Locos sibi 
 comparahit^ says the great Saint Charles, quihiis aadi- 
 torum animi commoveri solent ad amovem Dei. By 
 making a note of those matters which occur to us in 
 oiu' reading as most I'emarkable, or which seem to us 
 to possess the greatest power of pioving the heart and 
 influencing the Avill, we lay up for ourselves a precious 
 store from which we shall be able, in our need, to 
 draw abundant materials for om- sermons. We thus 
 turn to account, and render useful for all our future 
 life, the pu1)lic lectures at which we may assist, or the 
 course of private study and reading to which we have 
 
Eemote Prepakation for Preaching. 61 
 
 devoted our attention. In this way nothing is k)st, 
 but evei'j'lhing which an intelligent precaution deems 
 fitting for such a purpose, is placed in reserve for fu- 
 ture use. Without some such plan we shall cei-tainly 
 lose the fruit of the greatest part of our reading, and 
 of those vivid impressions which may have l)een made 
 upon us. At the time we are composing our sermon 
 we very often remember to have I'cad, or to have heard 
 something veiy useful upon the sulijcct in hand. But 
 what was it ? Where did we hear it, or in what work 
 shall we find it ? We neglected to make a note of it 
 at the time, and, now, to our very great loss, we can- 
 not recall it to our mind. Perhaps, too, we remem- 
 l)er to have been deeply moved l)y some rellections 
 "which, years ago, \ve made upon this matter. T/ien, 
 we could, without the slightest difficulty, have WTitten 
 pages upon this subject which would have been full 
 of unction and warmth. Now^ we are cold and with- 
 out feeling. JSfow, we are in absolute poverty, and 
 we would give a good deal to be able to remember 
 what it ^^'as which moved us so much in those former 
 days, when, perhaps, our imagination was fresher, 
 when our heart was warmer, when its best impulses 
 were more easily stirred. But, we allowed the pre- 
 cious thoughts to pass away without making note or 
 comment on them, and, so, we must be content at 
 present to put up with our poverty and indigence, feel- 
 iiig all the while that we allowed a great means of 
 
63 Kemote Peepaeation" for Pee aching. 
 
 niovinof the hearts of our fellow-men, and of tliu? 
 advanciuo- the interests of Him whose ambassadors we 
 are, to pass away without turning it to profit or aceomit. 
 
 This " making of notes" on our reading, this coUec- 
 tiou of matter, supposes some amount of labour, and 
 hence, perhaps, these remarks will not bear inuch 
 practical fruit. At the same time let the young reader 
 l)e convinced that, if he is to attain any degree of 
 excellence as a preacher, it will only be by the same 
 means by which excellence is attained in every other 
 science or art, a good deal of hard study and of hard 
 labour. If he is to reach the goal he must fit himself 
 for the running. If he is to carry off the prize he 
 must be content to pay the price. 
 
 We have the authority of many learned and holy 
 men on this point. The learned Pope Saint Damasus 
 regarded as so much lost time that which he spent in 
 reading of which he did not take notes. Lectionem 
 sine stylo somniam puta. The great St. Charles, the 
 example of all that is holy and becoming in an eccle- 
 siastic, had an immense collection of " notes," and in 
 the preface to his Homilies he confesses that they were 
 of the greatest assistance to him in helping him to 
 write and to vary his instruction. The rules of the 
 Society of Jesus, so full of the deepest and most prac- 
 tical wisdom, prescribe this collecting of matter to 
 preachers. St. Fi-ancis Xavier, one of the most illus- 
 trious members of the order, thus sj)eaks on this point : 
 
Eemote Preparation for Preaching. 63 
 
 * Be assured," he says, " that what we commit to paper 
 isiraprhited more deeply on the mind ; the very trouble 
 of writing it, and the time which is spent in doing so, 
 engrave the matter on the memory. Be assured too," 
 he continues, " that even those matters which move 
 us most deeply are very soon forgotten. They will 
 leave no lasting fruit behind them if we do not, whilst 
 our ideas are still fresh, make a note of them, so that 
 we can refresh our memory with them when necessity 
 requires. The fruit which we derive from a perusal 
 of our note-books is like that of miners who come again 
 upon some vein of precious metal which they had lost, 
 and which, now that they have found it, they work 
 Avith the greatest profit and advantage." Words as 
 full of practical wisdom as they are of truth ! 
 
 One of the most remarkable things in the late illus- 
 trious and gifted Cardinal Wiseman, and one which 
 caused most astonishment, was the facility with which 
 he coidd, at very short notice, and with an amount of 
 information and depth of thought which were truly 
 surprising, lecture upon almost any given subject, upon 
 any branch of science or art, sacred or profane. The 
 fact is not so very wonderful, or, to speak more cor- 
 rectly, it is more easily understood, if what was related 
 to us be true, viz., that from his earliest years he was 
 accustomed to read with pencil in hand, making notes 
 as he went along, no matter what might be the subject 
 of his reading, of everything that struck him as worthy 
 
64 Remote Preparation for Preaching. 
 
 of being remembered. In this way he collected an 
 immense mass of materials, which his powerful intel- 
 lect, his great grasp of mind, and his command of 
 language, enabled him to turn to ready account, even 
 on the shortest notice. Of what use this course of 
 studious reading enabled him to be to his fellow-men ; 
 what dignity it added to his olfice ; what lustre it shed 
 upon his Church ; and, best of all, what glory it 
 brought to God, we shall not presume to say ; l)ut we 
 think we may safely venture to propose hiui to the 
 student as an example of what may be done by study, 
 and of the glorious prize which may be gained by him 
 who, with a pure intention and a valiant licai't, does not 
 shrink from paying the price of it. 
 
 2. There are many methods of taking these " notes." 
 Experience will probably suggest to each one that 
 which suits him best. M. Hanion of S. Sulpice, in 
 his valuable " Traile de la Predication^''^ throws out 
 the followino- useful suggestions : — 
 
 1. To have a note book, and at the top of each page 
 to inscribe some heading in alphabetical order, as, ex. 
 gr. Abstinence, Baptism, Charity, etc., etc. Under 
 its respective heading the student is to make a note 
 of whatever he may meet with which is most striking 
 on this subject, whether he comes across it in his read- 
 ino;, hears it in a sermon, or from whatever source he 
 may derive his information. 2. If the student think 
 it worth his while to make notes of all that he reads, 
 
Eemote Preparation^ for Preachistg. 65 
 
 he ought to have one l^ook especially set aside for the 
 insertion of notes which have peculiar reference to 
 preaching. 3. There is no necessity for writing out at 
 full length passages from the Scriptures or the Fathers. 
 It is loss of time to do more than note the place where 
 they may be found. 4. We should make notes of 
 those matters merely which are specially worthy of 
 being remembered. If Ave have reason to fear that we 
 have been led away by a false brilliancy, it is well to 
 wait a little while, and to i-econsider the matter at a 
 cooler moment, before we make a note of it. 5. When 
 some passage or reflection Avhich we wish to note moved 
 us in a particular manner, it is always useful to profit 
 by this moment of inspiration to commit to writing the 
 sentiments by which we were affected, and the practi- 
 cal resolutions which we took in consequence of them. 
 We are never so eloquent as in the moments when we 
 are thus penetrated with, and full of, our subject. The 
 lanoi;uao;e of such moments is the true lano;uao;e of the 
 heart, and it will not fail to have its due effect when 
 applied to our fellow men. 
 
 The lyiesaurus, Biblicus, the 27tesaiirus Patrum, 
 and, perhaps best of all, the Listructissima Bibliotheca 
 Manualis Goncionatoria of Father Lohner, contain 
 most valuable notes on subjects useful to preachers, 
 and are excellent models of the manner in which to 
 make these collections of materials. Eveiy one should. 
 
66 EeMOTE PrEPAEATIOX for PREACHIJfG. 
 
 however, strive to collect matter for himself. Nothing 
 will be so useful to him as that which is the fruit of 
 his own labour, which is the reflection of his turn of 
 thought and of the temper of his mind, which is, in 
 one word, his own. 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 THE PRACTICE OF COMPOSITION. 
 
 By a course of studious reading, and a diligent 
 " noting" of whatever strikes us as most remarkable, 
 we do much towards forming our style, as well as 
 towards laying np that fund of knowledge which is 
 absolutely necessary fpr him who is to be a successful 
 speaker. But it is not sufficient to read much. It is 
 still more essential for him who aspires to acquire a 
 good style, and a correct and elegant manner of expres- 
 sing himself, to write much. Caput est, says Cicero 
 treating of this matter, quamplwimum serihere* 
 
 The advantage of frequent composition can scarcely 
 be overrated. It is quite possible for him who has 
 once learnt how to write well, and who has, by prac- 
 tice in composition, acquired a fticility of expressing 
 himself with correctness and elegance, to become a 
 good extempore preacher. We venture to say that 
 he who has not first learnt how to wi'ite well, will 
 hardly ever, if ever, become a really good speaker. 
 * De Oral. lib. i., c. xxxiii. 
 
Remote Preparation for Preaching. 67 
 
 He may acquire a certain fluency, but he will seldom 
 attain that degree of grammatical correctness, and 
 that measure of polish and elegance, which mark the 
 man of education, and which his flock and the Church 
 have a right to expect in the preacher of the Gospel. 
 Hence it is, that in the coui-se of studies through which 
 we put the young aspirants to the sacred ministiy, we 
 insist so much upon this practice of composition, upon 
 the wiiting of sermons. We do so because we are 
 most deeply convinced that we can never prepare those 
 who have been entrusted to us as a precious charge to 
 be trained for the AV'Ork of the sacred ministry — those 
 who, as they are now the objects of our dearest aspira- 
 tions and our highest hopes, are, hereafter, to be our 
 glory and our crown — to speak well in the future, 
 unless we first teach them how to write well. And, 
 if this were merely our own opinion, it might not be 
 of much weight. It has been the opinion of all, who 
 from Aristotle and Cicero downwards, have been most 
 competent to speak on this point. 
 
 By the practice of careful composition not only do 
 we discover our faults, whether of grammar or of style, 
 but, whilst we force ourselves to correctness and pre- 
 cision, we also gain the clearest insight into our own 
 minds, and discover the treasures which may, per- 
 chance, be hidden there. A man, at all events a yoimg 
 man, never knows what is really in his mind, the extent 
 of his knowledge, the logical connection of his ideas, 
 
68 Remote Peepaeation" foe Peeachin-g. 
 
 the force of his reasoning powei*s, the depth of his 
 sympathies and emotions, until he begins to write. 
 Under whatever aspect he may view the practice of 
 composition, whether as a means of acquiring mere 
 correctness, of attaining elegance and beauty of style, 
 or, of educating and developing the latent powers of 
 his mind and heai-t, let the yomig student be convinced 
 that the words of Cicero are pregnant with wisdom and 
 truth, Caput est, quamplurimum scribere. 
 
 It is difficult to lay down definite rules upon this 
 matter. Practice, under the eye of a competent pro- 
 fessor, is perhaps the most efiicacious means of advanc- 
 ing : but we venture to throw out a few practical 
 hints which may be useful to those who do not enjoy 
 this privilege. 
 
 1. After having thoroughly studied and dissected, 
 by means of analysis, in the manner described at page 
 42, the compositicHi of some standard writer, it is most 
 useful, whilst our mind is full of the subject, to rewi'ite 
 the whole matter, and then compare om- production 
 with the original of our author. There is scarcely any 
 exercise which is more useful than this in opening the 
 mind, in developing and cultivating the taste, in aftbrd- 
 ing us a practical application of the rales and precepts 
 of rhetoric, and, thus, of imprinting them most deeply 
 on the memory. 
 
 2. Another method of composing, more simple and 
 perhaps not less useful, consists in reading attentively 
 
Eemote Preparatiost for Preaching. 69 
 
 a page or two of some standard writer, aud iu such a 
 manner jis to possess his principal ideas. Then, laying 
 aside the book, the student endeavours to reproduce 
 those ideas in writinoj, and in the most correct lansruajre 
 of which he is mjister. He eudeavoui-s to seize the 
 author's form of expression, his grace, his precision 
 and strength, the figm-es which he employs, and the 
 turn of his thoughts. Taking up his book again, he 
 compares his page or two with those of his model. 
 Thus, easily aud without much labour, he discovei-s 
 the ftiults of his own composition, and the particular 
 in which he has failed most ; whilst the excellencies 
 of his model are more and more deeply engraven on 
 his mind. Many learned men counsel us to endeavour 
 to express in our own language the most beautiful and 
 strikmg passages of Holy writ, of the Fathers, and of 
 other standard authors. The efFoils which we make 
 to render our original correctly, to preserve his grace, 
 his colour, and his form, cause us to do our utmost 
 that we may become penetrated with his beauty, that 
 we may think and speak as he thinks and speaks, 
 that we may appropriate (in a sense to be presently 
 explained) his st^de and his turn of thought. In one 
 word, it causes us to wrestle, so as to speak, with om* 
 model, and, in this wi'estling, to have recourse to all 
 the resources which language affords us ; and, thus, 
 after a little time, we acquire a fecundity of ideas, and 
 a facility of expression, which probably astonish even 
 
70 Kemote Peeparatiok for Preaching. 
 
 ourselves. Cicero tells iis that the most effective means 
 which he employed in his study of eloquence consisted 
 in translating some of the choicest morsels of the great 
 Grecian orators into his own language. This exercise 
 is indeed most useful, but we must take great care to 
 choose a good model, otherwise we nm the risk of 
 spoiling our style instead of foraiing it. 
 
 The imitation of good models, whether in writing 
 or in speaking, is of the highest utility. Good models 
 inspire us with ardour, emulation, and a keen desire 
 of excellence. According to Quintilian, a great part 
 of art is placed in the imitation of good models, in dis- 
 covering what is most perfect in them, in penetrating 
 the abundance and the riches of their compasitions, 
 the variety of their figures, and the general charac- 
 teristics of their style ; but whilst it is true that a 
 preacher may do much towards forming his style by 
 a judicious imitatiou of good and gi-eat models, it is 
 equally true that this imitation, whether of writers or 
 speakei-s, is full of danger, and requires a very great 
 deal of discretion in its use. 
 
 In the first place, mere imitation is worse than use- 
 less, and is altogether unworthy of a man. If a man 
 is ever to acquire any degi'ee of excellence as a preacher, 
 it must be by developing what is his own, and not l)y 
 the slavish imitation of any other person. We have 
 already said that every man of mind thinks and 
 expresses himself, to some extent, in a manner which 
 
Remote Prepaeation fob Preaching. 71 
 
 is peculiarly his own. A nuin will be a great man 
 just in proportion as ho is, in this sense, an original 
 man. At the same time, there is no genius so origi- 
 nal that it may not be profited by the aid of good 
 examples in composition, style, and delivery. 
 
 But, in our imitation of good models, it is above all 
 things necessary to preserve and carefully cultivate 
 whatever we may have in ourselves that is original and 
 peculiarly our own. Each one has his own peculiai 
 charasteristic which distinguishes him from others. 
 Each one has his own manner of conceiving a subject, 
 of revolving it in his mind, and of giving expression 
 to his thoughts and sentiments ; and the greatest men 
 haTe only attained their respective degrees of perfec- 
 tioi by developing their own characteristic qualities, 
 by «ultivating that speciality which nature has given 
 then, and by turning it to the very best account. 
 
 It is a grand secret to know ourselves, and to adopt 
 our ityle to our speciality. We do not study good 
 modds in order that we may steal from them what is 
 pecuiarly theirs, and what may be in nowise suited 
 eithei to our temperament or our style ; but we study 
 them in order that we may derive from their more 
 matuBd experience, and their greater excellence, the 
 means of developing in ourselves those peculiar quali- 
 ties "wiich they may seem to share, to some extent, 
 with 13. In this sense, we endeavour to appropriate 
 whatever we consider most excellent in them, by mak- 
 
73 Eemote Pkeparation for Preachikg. 
 
 ing it our owii. Such imitation is certain to open 
 some new ideas, certain to enlarge and purity our own, 
 to give new vigour to the current of our thoughts, and 
 greater depth to the emotions of our heart. We behold, 
 for example, certain iDeculiar qualities in a great ora- 
 tor, and we feel that we possess the same, but, with 
 this difference, that he possesses them in a higher degi'ee, 
 and expresses them with more power than we are able 
 to do. We endeavour to penetrate his secret, and to 
 discover the source of his excellence. Having donfe 
 so, we strive, not to steal what is his, but to make it 
 our own ; and, by transferring it to our own souls, to 
 cause it to aid us in developing and raising to ine 
 highest degree of peifection our peculiar and chaiac- 
 teristic qualities ; those qualities, be they of heaq or 
 of heart, of cold logic or of warm sympathies and c^ep 
 emotions, which distinguish us from other men ; tlose 
 special qualities and characteristics whose cultivation 
 is to be the foundation of whatever degree of greainess 
 or excellence we are to attain. , i 
 
 It is, then, of the last importance to discover our 
 peculiar gift, our peculiar turn of mind ; to fini out 
 whether we are most moved to act upon our fjllow- 
 men through reason or through feeling ; to ascirtain 
 whether our pecuhar forte lies in ai'gument or ii pas- 
 sion, and to make all our oratorical studies, aid all 
 our imitation of great models, tend to the one so^ end, 
 the cultivation of our peculiar gift, whatever it nay be. 
 
Eemote Preparation foe Preaching. 73 
 
 If we mistake it, or, if we devote ourselves to the culti- 
 vation of any other than our own proper talent, we 
 shall never rise to greatness, we shall never attain that 
 degi-ee of excellence which the dignity of the pulpit 
 demands at our hands. 
 
 If we have received the gift of " convincing" by deep 
 and logical argument, it would be a great mistake to 
 quit this style in order to cultivate that of him whose 
 excellence lies in his wanii and brilliant imagination. 
 If we have received a great power of " moving," and 
 of stirring the hearts of men, it would be a fatal eiTor 
 to strive after the style of the grave theologian who 
 attains his end by severe reasoning and dry dissei-ta- 
 tion. He who is able to speak well, so long as he con- 
 lines himself to simplicity of style and of matter, must 
 be content with that degree of perfection which is 
 marked out for him, and not seek to attain heights 
 which are beyond his reach. How many ecclesiastics 
 throw away the real talent which they possess in their 
 vain efforts to acquire some degree of excellence which 
 is above their grasp, and to which they are not called. 
 How many, whose success would have been complete 
 if they had confined themselves to familiar instruc- 
 tions^ have rendered themselves useless, perhaps ridic- 
 ulous, in their efforts to preach grand sermons. How 
 many, in aspiring to become orators, without having 
 been born for it, have ended by becoming mere de- 
 claimers. Such as these may fitly apply to themselves 
 
74 Remote Prepakation for Preachikg. 
 
 the words of David when he had clothed himself in 
 the armour of Saul, non possum incedere quia usum 
 non habeo* If we are called to do battle for God 
 with the heavy weapons of Saul, let us gird them on, 
 and use them like men. If we are not, let us be con- 
 tent to wage our war in a more humble way. Like 
 David, we may gain a victory by means of the simple 
 pebble, w^hich would never have graced our arms if 
 we had striven to fight with the sword of Saul. 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to add that it is never law- 
 ful to copy. We may lawfully, and often usefully, 
 boiTow the ideas and the proofs of a Amter; but, be- 
 fore employing them, we must make them our own 
 l)y studying them so deeply that at length we conceive 
 them in our own way, and express them in our own 
 words, and in our own peculiar style. He who uses 
 the words of another, without stating whence he bor- 
 rows them, is simply a pirate. If he does so habitu- 
 ally, he takes the most effectual means he could devise 
 of betraying his own want of genius, or, if he really 
 possess any, of destroying it. It will be well if he do 
 not end by making himself licliculous, and by bring- 
 ing disgrace upon himself and his ministry. As we 
 have said, no two men thiuk alike. If this be true, it 
 follows pretty evidently, that no man can express him- 
 self naturally in another man's words. The preacher 
 who is not natural will hardly escape being ridiculous. 
 * Reg. xvii, 19. 
 
Remote Preparation for Preaching. 75 
 
 We have dwelt at some length on this matter of 
 remote preparation, because, having had some consid- 
 erable experience in training young men for the worlv 
 of the ministiy, we have had many practical proofs 
 of its necessity; because we have had to contend with 
 the almost insuperable difficulties which have met us 
 when it has been wanting ; and, because we believe 
 and know it to be the foundation of ;uiy real excel- 
 lence which the Christian preacher may attain. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 PROXIMATE PREPARATIO]S^ FOR PREACHIifG. 
 
 E now proceed to consider the proximate 
 preparation for preaching, or, in other 
 words, the actual composition of our ser- 
 mon. We shall divide this part of our 
 sul)ject into two great leading heads. The first will 
 contain four sections ; I. The choice of a suliject. 
 11. The due consideration and meditation of that sub- 
 ject. III. The arrangement of our matter by means 
 of the plan of our discourse, including, IV. Some 
 remarks on Unity. The second will treat of the vari- 
 ous pails or members of a discourse, w^ith the revision, 
 and, method of olrtaining an expedite " possession " 
 of what we have composed. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 THE CHOICE OF A SUBJECT. 
 
 It is very important to make a good selection of 
 the subject on which we intend to preach. The sub- 
 ject is the foundation of our discourse, and imless the 
 materials of that fomidation be discreetly chosen and 
 
Proximate Preparatiok^ for Preaching. 77 
 
 well adapted to their purpose, the editicc will scarcely 
 be either soimd or pleasing. As an ordinary rule, the 
 subject of his Sunday's sermon will be marked out to 
 the pastor, either by the Gospel of the day, the recur- 
 rence of a great festival, or, by some peculiar circum- 
 stance in his parish, as the prevalence of a certain 
 vice, etc., etc. However, whatever be the circum- 
 stances in which he may be placed, there are certain 
 practical rules to be observed in the selection of his 
 ^subject, and the mamier in which he will treat it. 
 
 1. He must not allow himself to be influenced by 
 self love in the choice of his subject. Self-love will 
 be sure to suggest those subjects which admit of the 
 most display and of the highest flights of oratoiy. 
 The true pastor of souls will rather be influenced by 
 the thought of what will be most useful to his flock, 
 and he will select those subjects which he deems most 
 conducive to their salvation, those subjects by which 
 he can most easily instnict, move, and convert his peo- 
 ple, since this is the end of his preaching. As a 
 natural consequence, he mil take the greatest care to 
 adapt his subject to the peculiar circumstances of his 
 flock, to their wants, their dispositions, their capacit}', 
 their prejudices, the time and place in which he ad- 
 dresses them. It is evident that no discourse can be 
 of any lasting service unless it be thus adapted to the 
 peculiar circumstances of the congiegation to which 
 it is addressed. 
 
78 Peoximate Peepaeatioit foe Peeachi]s^g. 
 
 2. Amongst many subjects which would be useful, 
 he will always, when the selection is in his hands, 
 choose that which he deems, omnibus jpensatis, the 
 most useful to the majority of his congregation. Such 
 subjects are the Four Last Things, the Sacraments, 
 the Commandments of God and his Church, and all 
 those great leading truths of our faith which essen- 
 tially interest all men at all times. He can never 
 preach too often on the great evil of sin and its tei-ri- 
 ble chastisements in this world and in the next; onf 
 the madness of those who are restrained from vice 
 neither by the judgments of God, the eternal suffer- 
 ings of hell, nor the loss of heaven; on the benefits of 
 redemption; on the dignity of a Christian; on the ob- 
 ligation of forgiving injuries, and of flying the occa- 
 sions of sin; on the obligation of prayer, its advantages, 
 and the conditions required to render it acceptable 
 with God; the duty of alms-giving; the crime of hu- 
 man respect; the abuse of grace; the loss of time, 
 etc., etc. The preacher should not allow himself to 
 be restrained from preaching on these subjects by the 
 consideration that they are old and have been often 
 treated before. The man who is truly zealous, and 
 who honestly prepares himself for his work, can al- 
 ways present these old, indeed these eternal truths, in 
 a new way; in such a way as to be full of interest to 
 those who are to secure their eternal salvation by the 
 practice of these old truths. Let him remember, 
 
Proximate Preparation for Preaching. 79 
 
 JVwi dtbemus dicere nova, sed nove. Let him be con- 
 Anuced, too, that his flock, distracted and taken up as 
 they are by the cares, the allurements, and the sins of 
 the world, easily forget even the most elementaiy 
 truths. Let him be convinced that they require, the 
 rich as well as the poor, those who are well up in the 
 world's knowledge and education equally with the 
 unlettered and the ignorant, to be frequently instructed 
 in these elementary truths, to be no less frequently 
 admonished, in omni patientia ei dodrina, of those 
 obligations and duties Avhich flow from them. 
 
 3. Whilst he selects those subjects which he deems 
 most useful to the majority of his flock, Uie discreet 
 pastor will, as for as circumstances permit, also select 
 those which are best adapted to his o^vn peculiar style 
 and natural talent. If, for example, he have a pecu- 
 liar power of moving souls through the consideration 
 of the mercy and the goodness of God, he will seldom 
 essay to speak on Hell and those temble subjects in 
 which so few succeed, and which, unless they are pow- 
 erfully handled, are perhaps better let alone. He will 
 also avoid, subjects which are too prolix, and which 
 oblige the preacher to glance at many matters without 
 really or thoroughly entering into any one. 
 
 4. Having fixed upon his subject, the preacher will 
 next determine the peculiar points of view under 
 which it will be most useful to present it to his flock, 
 the practical conclusions to be urged upon them, the 
 
80 Pkoximate Peeparatio]^ for Preaching. 
 
 way in which the reform of such a vice, or the prac- 
 tice of such a virtue, is to be brought about. The 
 practice of virtue is sometimes proposed to a flock in 
 such a manner as to mal?;e it appear full of difficul- 
 ties, disagreeable and repugnant; whilst it might, with 
 a little more trouble, and the aid of a little more dis- 
 cretion, have been brought before their eyes as infi- 
 nitely reasonable in itself, infinitely beautiful and 
 grand, infinitely useful to those who faithfully adopt 
 it. The discreet pastor will always carefully study 
 how he may present it in this latter light to his flock. 
 For this end he Avill examine how he can best bring 
 it before them in such a manner as to suit their pres- 
 ent dispositions; the aspect of the question which will 
 l)e most pleasing to them, and most rea,dily win their 
 acceptance of his views. Above all things, he will, 
 from the first moment of fixing upon his sulvject, be- 
 gin to ask himself that question, the answer to which 
 is to secure the unity and practical usefulness of his 
 discourse : ^V7ia( is it that I am going to ])ro])Ose to 
 my congregation ? Wliat am I about to ask of them 9 
 By what means do I expect to gain my end '? 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 THE MEDITATION AND CONCErTION OF OUR SUBJECT. 
 
 After having selected our subject, and determined 
 the points of view under which we shall treat it, the 
 
Proximate Preparation for Preaching. 81 
 
 next step in our preparation is to ponder it dec}>ly 
 and with all the powei-s of our mind. To meditat<' 
 our subject is to place oiu'selves face to face with it, t(; 
 study and sift it to the bottom, to look at it in all its 
 diiforcnt aspects until we become, so to speak, irradi- 
 ated with it; until we see at a glance how we can 
 make it most effectually conduce to the instruction, 
 the conviction, the persuasion, and the amendment of 
 our flock. 
 
 1st. Hoio ive can maJie it conduce to their instruc- 
 tion — and, for this end, we examine what is said upon 
 the matter in theology, and whilst we form clear, pi'c- 
 cise, and exact ideas, on what we ma}' call^^the doc- 
 trinal part of our subject, we also consider the beat 
 means of conveying these ideas to our audience. 
 
 2ndly. How can loe make it conducive to the con- 
 vincing of their understanding — and, for this purpose, 
 we study what proofs and Avhat line of argument are 
 likely to make most impression upon them, and ^ve 
 endeavour, by deep and serious reflection, to become 
 so intimately penetrated with our subject, so inti- 
 mately convinced of its truth and its reasonable- 
 ness, as to be filled with wonder at the folly of 
 those who do not at once give in their assent to it. 
 
 3rdly. How we can make it conduce to their persua- 
 sion — and, for this, having instnicted and convinced 
 our audience by argument — we consider how we can 
 most powerfully act upon their souls, and influence 
 
82 Peoximate Pkepakation for Preaching. 
 
 their wills; what strokes of oratoiy we can employ to 
 move, to soften, and to gain them, and what we can 
 say that shall go at once to their hearts. We consider 
 how we can bring Holy Scriptnre to om- aid, how we 
 can turn to the best account the examples of the 
 saints, the views of faith, and our knowledge of the 
 human heai-t. We also consider what figures of rhet- 
 oric, as, for example, apostrophe, personification, in- 
 terrogation, etc., etc., will be of most assistance to us 
 in moving our audience, and the manner in which 
 these figures shall be employed. 
 
 4thly. Hoiv we can make it conducive to the ira- 
 mendment — and to this end, having seen, in a general 
 way, ho^v we are to persuade our audience, we descend 
 still more to particulars, and ask ourselves what we 
 are going to propose to our flock that is really practi- 
 cal and to the point, what acts of virtue and ^^iiat 
 salutary practices we are about to impress upon them; 
 in one word, how we are going to coiTcct what is 
 amiss in them, how we are going to lead them into the 
 path of sanctity and perfection. 
 
 Some such process as this, which we have endeav- 
 oured to sketch, is what is meant by the meditation 
 of our subject, and it is recommended by all great 
 masters of the art as an essential condition of every 
 good composition. Without such serious considera- 
 tion we shall speak at best but superficiall}^, often 
 inexactly. Our discourse will be nothing but a heap 
 
Pboximate Preparation for Preaching. 83 
 
 of cold and pointless ideas; a mass of texts and im- 
 mature reflections. We shall be obscure, because, as 
 we have not taken the trouble to study our subject, we 
 shall possess no clear and well defined ideas upon it. 
 We shall be cold, inasmuch as neither our heart nor 
 our imagination will have been inflamed in the furnace 
 of deep and earnest meditation. We shall be diffuse, 
 because we shall advance without order, like a travel- 
 ler in a strange country. B}^ due meditation of our 
 subject, on the contrary, we become masters of it, and 
 fully possess it. Possessing it clearly, we announce 
 and develop it with ease and facility. Our intellect 
 supplies us with the clearest proofs, our heart with the 
 deepest emotions, and om* imagination with the rich- 
 est and most varied figures. The most telling expres- 
 sions, the most striking and original tm-ns of thought, 
 and the most appropriate figures, present themselves, 
 as it were, instinctively to us, and it is thus that the 
 best style flows out from its natural source, and the 
 greatest beauties which can adom a sermon spring 
 without effbit from the subject itself. 
 
 There are two methods of meditating our subject, 
 the direct and the indirect. If we happen to be per- 
 sons of great intellect, persons possessing a deep store 
 of information, and a grasp of mind which enables us 
 to turn that information to ready and practical ac- 
 count, or, if circumstances prevent us from employing 
 any other, we may use the direct method, which con- 
 
84 Proximate Preparation for Preaching. 
 
 sists in placing ourselves at once face to face with our 
 subject, in bringing all tlie powers of our mind to bear 
 upon it imtil we become penetrated with it, until we 
 see it in all its aspects, until, especially, we behold at 
 a glance the precise manner in which it is to be brought 
 to act upon those whom we are about to address ; and 
 thus viewing it, in itself and in its relation to our audi- 
 ence, we at last, to use the words of Abbe Baiitain,* 
 conceive our' subject, and, in this conception, obtain 
 the leadino; idea of our discoui-se, the idea that is to 
 be embodied in the one proposition, the proving and 
 the establishing of which is the end and aim of our 
 sermon, as we shall show a little later on when treat- 
 ing of unity. This direct method of meditating and 
 conceiving our subject is a purely intellectual process in 
 the sense that it supposes no actual reading-up of mat- 
 ter, no collection of materials but what is supplied on 
 the spur of the moment from the grauaiy of our own 
 mind, and beaten into shape and Applied to our sub- 
 ject through the mere force of our own intellect, 
 unaided by the knowledge or the experience of others. 
 From this idea of it, it follows we think pretty plainly, 
 that only the possession of great geniusy or necessity, 
 will justify the preacher who, as a rule, aspires to, and 
 contents himself with, this direct mode of considering 
 and conceiving his subject. 
 
 Ordinary men must be content to follow a more 
 * The Art of Extempore Speaking. 
 
Proximate Preparation for Preaching. 85 
 
 laborious and circuitous way than this. There are few 
 men who are sufficiently well up in sacred science, or 
 whose knowledge is sufficiently fresh and accurate, to 
 enable them to sit down at once and compose their 
 sermon, without some previous revision and reading-up 
 of matter, and such men must employ the indirect 
 method of meditating and conceiving their subject. 
 
 This method consists in reading, pencil in hand, 
 some approved writer on the snbject which we have 
 selected to treat. This lecture instructs us on those 
 points on which we may be ignorant, and refi-eshes 
 our memory on those which he had begun to forget. 
 It awakens and fertilizes the imagination, excites our 
 zeal, inspires us with conceptions that are full of life, 
 and sets the spirit of invention in full play. This 
 coui'se of reading is very different from the one described 
 in the proceding chapter. Then, we read in order 
 to fonn our style ; now, we read in order to acquire 
 matter, and an insight into the most striking way of 
 presenting it with a view to the actual composition of 
 our discourse. Hence, in our present reading, we pro- 
 pose to ourselves to sift our subject to the very bot> 
 tom in order that we may put ourselves in a position 
 to give sound, solid, and exact instruction upon it to 
 our flock. We not only seek out and make substan- 
 tial notes of all those ideas, passages, and practical 
 applications, with which we meet in our reading, but, 
 \ we endeavour still more to master and possess the gen- 
 
86 Peoximate Preparation for Preaching. 
 
 eral order of the discourse, the way in which the vari- 
 ous ideas are brought out, presented, and connected 
 with those which precede and those which follow. 
 We study the figures, the comparisons, the strong and 
 vigorous expressions which give such life to those ideas, 
 and, in a word, everything which adds nerve, force, 
 and beauty to the discourse. We endeavour to enter 
 fully into the spirit of the writer, that thus our heart 
 and our imagination may be equally set on lire, that 
 we may, so to speak, be inspired by our subject. All 
 this supposes, of course, that we know where to look 
 for standard matter on our suliject, and that we read 
 with deep and serious attention, making short, but 
 lucid and substantial notes as we go along of every- 
 thing that strikes us as peculiarly useful either to 
 instruct, to convince, or to move our audience. 
 
 We read in this manner until, to use a homely 
 phrase, we feel full of our subject. Then, laying aside 
 our book, Ave take up the notes which we have made 
 during our reading, and re-read them face to face with 
 our subject. We ponder seriously before God on what 
 we have read and the notes we have made, alwaj's of 
 coui'se in relation with our subject ; and, whilst 
 through this deep meditation we become fully possessed 
 of our matter, and make it, in the truest sinise, our 
 own, we at the same time conceive our subject in the 
 manner described above, and obtain the clearest view 
 of that which is to be the leading idea of our discourse. 
 
Pkoxim.vte Preparation for Preaching. 87 
 
 that ideii or truth which, as wc liavc said, is to be 
 embodied in our proposition, and to the establishing 
 of which all our cllbrts are to be directed. 
 
 This indirect method of considering and conceiving 
 our subject is a little more laborious than the other, 
 but it is vastly safer. IMoreover, a little practice and 
 a little perseverance will not only render it easy, but 
 as pleasing as it, most certainly, will be useful. 
 
 Having thus fixed upon our subject, and having 
 considered it well and deeply in the manner described 
 alcove, we are now ready to proceed to the next stage 
 of our preparation, viz., the arrangement of om- matter 
 by means of a clear, definite, and well-orgauized plan. 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 THE ARRANGEMENT OF OUR MATTER BY MEANS OF THE 
 PLAN OF OUR DISCOURSE. 
 
 We have collected the substantial materials of 
 which our discourse is to be composed. We have 
 made a note of ever3i;hing which occun'ed to us dur- 
 ing our reading as peculiarly sticking or useful for the 
 purpose we have in hand. We have under our eye 
 all the texts of Holy Writ, the extracts from the 
 Fathers, the theological reasons, the proofs, the argu- 
 ments, in a word, everything which our intellect, our 
 heart, or our course of reading has suggested to us ; 
 and, up to this point, we have made good progress. 
 
88 Peoximate Peepaeation foe Preachin"G. 
 
 We possess abundant materials with which to construct 
 our edifice, but we possess them in a contused mass, 
 without order, regularity, or design ; and, as no amount 
 of wood and stone would suffice to raise a material 
 edifice unless they were put in order, and arranged 
 according to the plan of the architect, so, no amount 
 or collection of matter will enal^le a pastor to preach 
 a good sermon unless that matter be properly an-anged, 
 unless everything be put in its proper place and 
 reduced to order. 
 
 There is no way of reducing this ma^ of materials 
 to order, except by taking our pen in hand, and, before 
 we begin to compose our sermon, making a goodj)lan, 
 or skeleton, of our discourse. 
 
 The plan of a cliscoui'se is, according to M. Bautain, 
 the m^der of the iJiings tvhich have to be unfolded. It 
 supposes, therefore, the matter to be unfolded, (and 
 this we have already collected in a confused mass,) and 
 the order in which that matter is to be unfolded. 
 
 Simple as all this may seem, its importance can 
 scarcely be exaggerated. There is scarcely anything 
 which is more overlooked by ordinary preachers ; and 
 we venture to say that the utter failure of so many 
 sermons is to be attributed neither to poverty of mat- 
 ter, nor defects of style and delivery, so much as to 
 the prevailing Avant of order and method, and the con- 
 sequent absence of any definite end, aim, or object in 
 the discourses to which we listen. How many 
 
Proximate Pkeparatiok for Preaching. 89 
 
 preachers are there who more than justify Dr. 
 "VVhately's bitiug criticism ! " Many a Avandering 
 discoui'se one hears in which the preacher aims at' 
 nothing and hits it." 
 
 And, what is the practical consequence of this ? 
 AVhy, that as the preacher had no clear idea of ivJtat 
 he wished to say, or of the order in which he wished 
 to say it, his flock have still less recollection of what 
 he did say. They carry away from his sermon no clear 
 definite ideas on any one point, on any virtue to be 
 practised and the manner of practising it, for the very 
 simple reason that the discoiu'se neither contained nor 
 enunciated any such ideas. The preacher, indeed, 
 may have glanced, in his confused and disordeiiy man- 
 ner, at many things, but he has entered thoroughly 
 into none. He has driven no one truth home to the 
 hearts of his flock, as he should have proposed to him- 
 self to do, remembering that ordinary people scarcely 
 remember more than one thing at a time. An hom* 
 after his sermon, he himself could scarcely tell you the 
 precise subject on which he preached, the one idea 
 w^hich he strove to write on the hearts of his flock, 
 and the order and method by which he proposed to ac- 
 complish his end ; and, for the best of reasons, because 
 he had no such idea or method. What wonder, then, 
 if that flock have long since foro-otten the sermon 
 Avhich he himself no longer recollects, for the obvious 
 reason that he ncA'er full}' possessed or clearly expressed 
 
90 Proximate Pkeparation for Preaching. 
 
 it. Such sermons — and would that they were fewer — 
 to use a veiy homely but pointed expression, go in at 
 one ear and out at the other. 
 
 The sad end of all this is that his flock listen, Sun- 
 day after Sunday, to his sermons, without obtaining 
 one solid morsel of sound and lasting instruction, with- 
 out conceiving one generous resolution of advancing in 
 God's holy service ; whilst he, as he witnesses the 
 scandals which are for ever showino- their foul front 
 in his parish, is obliged to confess, in the bitterness of 
 his heart, that his ministry is a barren and a fruitless 
 one ; that his words fall on a hard soil, a soil which, 
 if he did but realize it, is ou\j hard from want of culti- 
 vation ; that he is but as one who beats the air with 
 empty woixls ; that he is but as the tinkling brass and 
 the sounding cymbal ; the unthrifty husbandman, who 
 spends his whole life in sowing bad and unfruitful seed 
 which never yields the increase. 
 
 There is no way of meeting this great and common 
 failing of ordinary sermons, except by making a good 
 plan of one's discoui-se. The fundamental quality of 
 every good plan is uniti/, which we now proceed to 
 consider. 
 
Proximate Preparation for Preaching. 91 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 UNITY. 
 
 By the unity of a discourse we mean that evei'}i;hing 
 in it tends to the establishing of some one, precise and 
 dearly defined proposition which we propose to our- 
 selves to impress so deeply on the hearts of our hearers 
 that they cannot possibly escape the practical conclu- 
 sions which we deduce from it ; arid, that all the 
 proofe, examples, illustrations, etc. which our sermon 
 contains have reference to the development of the one 
 great leading truth which is embodied in this pro- 
 position. 
 
 Unity comprises two things, unity of view, and unity 
 of means. 
 
 There is unity oi yieiv in a discourse when eveiy- 
 thing in it tends to the one common end ; when there 
 is not a phrase in the sermon which is not expressed 
 except with this object, and which is not either neces- 
 sary or useful in conducting our audience to it ; when, 
 in fine, from this common end as from a centi-al point, 
 we can take in the whole sermon, with all its ramifica- 
 tions, at a glance of the eye. Unity of view imparts 
 this remarkable property to a discom-se, that it reduces 
 it to one leading proposition, which is merely brought 
 out into greater relief by the various icays in which 
 it may be presented to an audience ; or rather, as 
 Fenelon expresses it, the discourse is merely the devel- 
 
93 PkOXIMATE PEEPAEx\.TIO]Sr FOR PrEACHI]S"G. 
 
 opmeiit of the proposition, and the proposition is noth- 
 ino^ more than an abrido-nient of the discourse. 
 
 There is unity of means in a discourse when all its 
 parts are so united, connected, and arranged, that the 
 preacher advances continually on the same line of pro- 
 gressive conceptions, when it is one tissue of ideas and 
 sentiments which beget and follow one another. In 
 this way everything is in its proper place ; each truth 
 prepares the way for, introduces, and sustains some 
 other truth which has equal need of its support ; and, 
 thus, they all unite to conduct the audience to the 
 common end in such a manner, and with such an inti- 
 mate and close connection, that no one of these leading 
 idciis can be omitted without destroying the order of 
 the march, no one misplaced without weakening the 
 force, and deranging the harmony of the whole dis- 
 course. 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to prove how essential this 
 unity is to every good discourse. We have already 
 glanced at the evil consequences arising from its absence 
 ill a sermon. Certainly, unity of view is necessary, 
 since everything in a discourse which does not tend to 
 the common end and design, -which the preacher 
 necessarily proposes to himself, is merely thrown away. 
 Discoimected and disjointed ideas which have no direct 
 reference to the leading truth laid down in the pro- 
 position only distract the hearer. However ignorant 
 he may be, he is offended at having extraneous mat- 
 
4 
 
 Proximate Preparation for Preaching. 93 
 
 tei-s thrust upon his notice, which merely cjuisod him 
 to lose sight of the leading idea and principal subject 
 of the discom'se. He listens with annoyance and 
 impatience to that which even his limited intelligence 
 perceives to have no definite connection with the sub- 
 ject in hand. He looks upon the preacher as a traveller 
 who has either forgotten, or Avho knows not whither 
 he is oroino;. He thus loses all interest in the discourse, 
 and, naturally, receives no benefit from it. 
 
 And, it is not sufficient that what we say have some 
 rehition to the general end of the discourse, and be 
 thus comprehended, in a degree more or less vague, 
 within the unity of view. Eveiy idea, eveiy sentence, 
 that we utter, must be expressed in its proper place ; 
 or, in other words, unity of means is no less essential 
 tlian unity of view. What is it that makes a grand 
 edifice ? It is not a great mass of stones and mater- 
 ials, nor the heaping together of many parts without 
 reference to the whole ; but it is the just proportion 
 of the various fabrics to one another, and their due 
 arrangement so as to form one harmonious whole. 
 And, again, to use the figure of Quintilian, what is it 
 that makes a strong and vigorous body, but the union 
 and perfect agreement of all the membei's. Displace 
 but one member and the beautiful body becomes a 
 monster. It is the same in a sennon. Its strength 
 and its beauty arise, not from disconnected and dis- 
 united membei"s, no matter how elegant they may be 
 
94 PeOXIMATE PREPAEATIOlSr FOR PrEACHIXG. 
 
 in themselves, but from the intimate relation, and the 
 l^eifect agreement, of one part to another and to the 
 whole. Its beauty lies in the skilful and proper plac- 
 ing of each proof and of each idea, and in the order 
 and coherence of those ideas, which are so connected 
 and knit together that no one can be omitted without 
 causing a fatal gap, without destroying the vitality of 
 the whole. In one word, the vigom* and harmony 
 of a discourse depend principally upon the order with 
 which it is arranged, and the more orderly and defi- 
 nite it is the more perfect it is. Hence, if each idea, 
 each truth, each argument, be not placed in its proper 
 position, the preacher will say at the commencement 
 that which ouo;ht not to have come in until the mid- 
 die or end of his discourse. He will finish where he 
 ought to have begun, or vice versa. If there be not 
 a strict and logical sequence of ideas, of proofs, and of 
 arguments in a sermon, it is essentially faulty. Such 
 a discourse is without unity, that unity which, accord- 
 ^ing to St. Augustine, is the principle and the form of 
 ever}'thiug that is beautiful. Omnis pulchritudinis 
 forma unitas est* Without unity there can be no 
 order, without order in a sermon, as in eveiything else, 
 there can be nothing but darkness and confusion. 
 
 To secure this essential unity, and its natural re- 
 sults, definiteness of view and orderly arrangement, 
 the preacher, according to the advice of St. Francis 
 * 1 Epis., xviii. 
 
Proximate Preparation for Preaching. 95 
 
 cle Sales, should never enter the pulpit without a 
 definite desi<rn of addins: some definite stone to the 
 walls of the heavenly Jerusalem; that is to say, he 
 ought alwaj^s to propose to himself the obtaining of 
 some definite end which shall be conducive to the 
 salvation of his audience, and, for this purpose, he 
 should say to himself. What is it precisely that I wish 
 to gain from my hearers ? What refonn, what pious 
 practice, what special virtue, do I aspire to inculcate ? 
 With what dispositions, with what generous and spe- 
 cific resolutions do I seek to animate them ? If he 
 do not see the answer to this question, as clear and 
 definite as the question itself, he may be pretty cer- 
 tain that his discourse will be vague, confused, and to 
 a jjreat extent useless. Dr. Newman thus \mtes on 
 this matter.* 
 
 " My second remark is, that it is the preacher's 
 duty to aim at imparting to others, not any fortuitous, 
 unpremeditated benefit, but some defim'fe spiritual 
 good. It is here that design and study find their 
 place; the more exact and precise is the subject of 
 which he treats, the more impressive and practical 
 will he be; whereas no one will carry ofi:' much from 
 a discourse which is on the general subject of virtue, 
 or vaguely and feebly entertains the question of the 
 desirableness of attaining Heaven, or the rashness of 
 incurring eternal ruin." 
 
 * University Preaching. 
 
96 Pkoximate Preparatiost for Preachuntg. 
 
 "Nay, I would go the length," he continues, "of 
 recommending a preacher to place a distinct categori- 
 cal proposition before him, such as he can write down 
 in a form of words, and to guide and limit his prepa- 
 ration by it, and to aim in all he says to bring it out, 
 and nothing else. This seems to be implied or sug- 
 gested in St. Charles's direction : ' Id omnio stu debit, 
 ut quod in concione dicturus est, antea bene cognitum 
 habeat.' Nay, is it not expressly conveyed in the 
 Scripture phrase of ' preaching the 7vonl,^ for what is 
 meant by ' the word,' but a proposition addressed to 
 the intellect ? Nor will a preacher's earnestness shoAV 
 itself in an}i:hing more unequivocally, than in his re- 
 jecting, whatever be the temptation to admit it, e^'cry 
 remark however original, every period however elo- 
 quent, which does not in some way or other tend to 
 bring out this one distinct proposition which he has 
 chosen. Nothing is so fatal to the efl'ect of a sermon, 
 as the habit of preaching on three or four sulyects at 
 once. I acknowledge I am advancing a step beyond 
 the practice of great Catholic preachers, when I add, 
 that, even though we preach on only one at a time, 
 finishing and dismissing the first before we go to the 
 second, and the second before we go to the third, still, 
 after all, a practice like this, though not open to the 
 inconvenience which confusing of one subject with an- 
 other involves, is in matter of fact nothing short of 
 
Proximate Preparation for Preaching. 97 
 
 the delivery of three sermons in succession without 
 break between them. 
 
 " Summing up then what I have been saying, I 
 ol)serve that, if I have imdei-stood the doctrine of St. 
 Charles, St. Francis, and other saints aright, definite- 
 ness of object is in various Avays the one viitue of the 
 preacher; — and this means, that he should set out 
 with the intention of conveying to others some spir- 
 itual benefit; that, with a view to this, and as the only 
 ordinary way to it, he should select some distinct fact 
 or scene, some passage in histoiy, some truth, simple 
 or profound, some doctrine, some principle, or some 
 sentiment, and should study it well and thoroughly, 
 and first make it his own, or should have already 
 dwelt on it and mastered it, so as to be able to use it 
 for the occasion, from an habitual understandinsr of it; 
 and that then he should employ himself, as the one 
 business of his discourse, to bring home to others, and 
 to leave deep within them, what he has, before he be- 
 gan to speak to them, Ijrought home to himself. 
 What he feels himself, and feels deeply, he has to 
 make othei-s feel deeply; and, in proportion as he 
 comprehends this, he will rise above the temptation 
 of introducing collateral matters, and will have no 
 taste, no heart, for going aside after flowei-s of oratoiy, 
 fine figures, tuneful periods, which are worth nothing 
 unless they come to him spontaneously, and are spoken 
 
 ' out of the abundance of the heart.' " 
 
 7 
 
98 Proximate Peeparatiox for Preaching. 
 
 Yes, what gveat leading practical truth is it which 
 I wish to write upon the hearts of my people ? Tliis 
 is the question which the preacher will revolve again 
 and again in his mind, prayerfully before God, and 
 with an intimate conviction of its vast importance. 
 It is the point upon which the whole success of the 
 sermon depends. The answer which he is able to 
 make to himself on this vital question, will furnish 
 him with the proposition of his discourse. This 
 proposition will, therefore, embody, and briefly ex- 
 pose, the great leading truth which is the foundation 
 of the sermon. But this truth although essentially 
 o;te, may, and, perhaps, ought to be presented to our 
 audience under various points of view. We may, for 
 example, employ many arguments to enforce the love 
 of God, without ever losing sight of the one object; 
 whilst, if we introduce arguments into the same ser- 
 mon on the love of our neighbour, we sin unpardona- 
 bly against unity, and run the risk of producing no 
 clear and definite result. 
 
 With these remarks on unity, the essential quality 
 of every good plan, we now return to the more direct 
 consideration of the plan itself 
 
 We have said just now that the one leading idea of 
 our sermon may, and perhaps ought to be presented 
 under variotts points of view — that it rests on two or 
 three great leading proofs or arguments. We see at 
 a glance, on carefully reading our notes, that all the 
 
Proximate Preparatio^st for Preaching. 99 
 
 arguments, comparisons, examples, etc., which we have 
 collected as bearing on our subject, can easily be ar- 
 ranged under two or three leading heads ; and, the 
 making of the plan of our discourse is nothing more 
 than the taking of our pen in hand, and with the 
 principle of unity always clearly before us, the or- 
 derly arranging of our materials under these two or 
 three leading heads. These two or three leading- 
 heads form the membei-s of our division, or, in other 
 words, the parts of our discourse. These leading mem- 
 bere are in themselves, in one sense, general proposi- 
 tions, as they are the foundation of special arguments 
 and oratorical developments; but, at the same time, 
 there is such a strict coherence and connection be- 
 tween them and the subject, that they resolve them- 
 selves into a proposition which is still more general, 
 to wit, that of the discourse. It is evident that the 
 preacher, in thus arranging the plan of his sermon, 
 advances by way of analysis, from particular ideas to 
 general propositions. It is equally evident that, in 
 the development of the discourse itself, he uses the 
 synthetical method, descending from the general pro- 
 position of his discourse to the consideration of those 
 minor propositions which are subordinate to it, but 
 each of which, nevertheless, possesses its own proper 
 proofs, ideas, and sentiments. 
 
 To sum up practically what we have said, the 
 preacher will an-ange the plan of his discourse in 
 
100 Proximate Preparation for PREACHiifG. 
 
 some such way as this. Having selected his subject, 
 having meditated and conceived it in the manner al- 
 ready described, he will Avrite do^vn the proj)Osition 
 which embodies the leading idea of his sermon. 
 Then, he will arrange the members of his division, oi", 
 the parts of his discourse, each one in its proper 
 place, with its own peculiar arguments and oratorical 
 developments briefly but clearly sketched out. Next, 
 he will select the text of Scripture most appropriate 
 to head his sermon. Then he will determine, from a 
 general view of the whole discourse, what idea will 
 most fitly introduce it; in other words, he will obtain 
 the idea of his exordium ; and, lastly, he will consider 
 and note down, from the same general view of the 
 whole discourse, those sentiments, powerful emotions, 
 and generous resolutions with which he will seek to 
 move his hearers at the close of his sermon, in other 
 words, the matter of his peroration or conclusion. 
 
 The leading idea, embodied and exposed in the 
 general proposition — the members or parts of the dis- 
 course — the text — the idea of the exordium and of 
 the peroration — such are the dry bones which form 
 the skeleton or plan of a discourse, and, although not 
 that of the actual composition, as we shall see in an- 
 other chapter, such is the order in which they will 
 have been " invented" or conceived by the preacher. 
 
 To aid the young preacher, to render this matter 
 still more plain, and to bring it home more practically 
 
Proximate Preparation for Preaching. 101 
 
 to him, Ave subjoin a plan of a discoui'se. For obvi- 
 ous reasons we have selected a trite and veiy familiar 
 subject. The student will perceive that merely sub- 
 stantial ideas are presented, whilst the rhetorical 
 fillinjj-in of those ideas is left to each one's individual 
 taste and style. He will also perceive at a glance 
 that the whole subject, as embodied in the division, is 
 reduced to a syllogism. A few words of explanation 
 on the major of the proposition, which no one will 
 deny, may fonn the exordium or introduction. The 
 minor furnishes the three points, or members of the 
 discourse, whilst the peroration contains the conclusion. 
 
 plan of a sermon on the importance of eternal 
 salvation. 
 
 Leading Idea 
 Text. 
 
 Division 
 
 The seouriug of his salvation should be the great 
 object of every man's life. Eccles. xii, 13. 
 Deum time et mandata ejus observa : hoc est 
 enim omnis homo. 
 All reasonable men labour most earnestly for that 
 which is most worthy of their toil. Whether we 
 consider (1) the views of God, (2) the actions of 
 the saints, or (.3) the sentiments of men at the 
 hour of their death, we must admit that salva- 
 tion is the object most worthy of the attention 
 of every reasonable man — Therefore — 
 PiBtST Point— T/ie Views of God. 
 
 Why did God create us — why does ^ 
 he preserve us — why does he 
 bear with us in our tepidity — That we may se- 
 our relapses — our sins. cure the salvation 
 
 "Why did the Sou of God become I of our immortal 
 incarnate — lead a life of suffer- [ souls. 
 ing — die upon the Cross. Eccles. xii, 13. 
 
 Why does the Holy Ghost con- Prov. xvi, 4. 
 
 tinually prevent us with His 
 graces. 
 
102 Pkoximate Pkepaeation foe Pkeaching. 
 
 Second Point — The Actions of the Saints. 
 
 "Why did the saints lead lives of ^ 
 such rigorous penance — David — 
 Magdalene — Anthony — Basil — 
 Mary of Egypt, and so many 
 others. 
 
 Why did the Martyrs sustain the 
 
 greatest tortures so cheerfully That they might 
 and lay down their lives so the more certainly 
 readily. > secure the salva- 
 
 ■Why have so many Mnffs forsaken tiou of their souls, 
 their crowns — so uiimy noblemen Eccles. i. 
 
 their high station — so many 
 courtiers the pomps and pleas- 
 ures of a court, — so many 
 icealthy men their riches to lead 
 lives of poverty and mortifica- 
 tion. 
 
 Third Point — The sentiments of Men at the Hour 
 of Death. 
 
 "What are the sentiments of the ^ 
 just man at the hour of his death. 
 What does ho think of the 
 labours — the self-denial — the 
 works of piety — in which he 
 has spent his life. 
 
 "WTiat are the sentiments of the 
 sinner — what does he think of 
 worldly pleasures — honours — 
 riches. 
 
 What does ho think of those sins 
 in which he has steeped his 
 soul — for which he has thrown 
 away his salvation. 
 
 He is filled with 
 ji)^- at having done 
 liis best to save 
 his soul. 
 
 Ps. cxxi, 1. 
 
 He is filled with 
 horror and una- 
 ^ vailing remorse. 
 -Solomcm. 
 Eccles. i, 2. 
 
 Conclusion, — Affections and Resolutions. 
 
 Filled with gratitude to God who ) 
 
 has spared us. 5 
 
 With sorrow for our past negli- ) 
 
 gence. j 
 
 With an intimate conviction of its 
 necessity. 
 
 Ps. cxv, 12. 
 Ps. i. 
 
 Matt, xvi, 26. 
 
PkOXIMATE PrEPAKATIOX for PllKACIIING. 103 
 
 Wi' will heiicoforwHvd labour M-ith ^ 
 
 all our hearts to secure our sal- > Ps. Ixxvii, 11. 
 vation. ; 
 
 And i'or this end we now resolve ^ 
 to adopt the practical mecDis of j 
 doiug so, and to emplo}- those |- Matt, xix, 17. 
 means, prompthj, perseveringly. j 
 and efficaciously. J 
 
 Exhortation — Prayer. 
 
 According to some such method as this will the 
 preacher aiTange the matter of his discourse. A jjkm 
 is equally useful and equally necessaiy, mutatis mutan- 
 dis^ for the set sermon as for the familiar instruction. 
 Perhaps it is most necessary in the preparation of the 
 familiar instruction, for as this will be delivered to 
 simple and ignorant people, there is all the greater 
 need of order and clearness. The above plan has been 
 made as simple as possible, but, slight as it may seem, 
 the preacher will find that the development of the 
 ideas which it suggests will more than occupy the 
 half hour which an ordinary discourse should not 
 exceed. Being on one of the great general subjects 
 which the preacher ti'eats from time to time, the prac- 
 tical conclusions are more general than will Ijethe case 
 in ordinary sermons, which will of course be more par- 
 ticular in their nature, and more definite in their con- 
 clusions. Nevertheless, the student will perceive that in 
 the above plan every idea which it suggests, ever}' 
 example, and eveiy comparison which it points out, 
 tends to the establishing of the one leading idea, the 
 necessity of labouring to secure our eternal salvation. 
 
104 Proximate Preparation for Preaching. 
 
 whilst they all prepare the way for the practical con- 
 clusions which flow from the whole argumentation on 
 the subject — viz., the resolution to labour henceforward 
 with all our heart to secure that Siilvation, and for this 
 end, the adoption of the means suggested by the Holy 
 Gospel. — Matt, xix, 17. 
 
 The student will remember, too, that the plan of 
 his discourse is to be notJiing more than a plan, or 
 skeleton. It admits of no style or fine writing. All 
 this will come later on when we begin the actual com- 
 position of our discourse. The plan is, in the strictest 
 sense, the mere skeleton of the sermon, the ixjugh draft 
 Avhich the skilful hand of the artist traces out in order 
 to secure unity of view and of means, before he begins 
 to fill in the rich and varied details of his composition, 
 before he beo'ins to clothe the drv bones with living 
 flesh and muscle. It should be drawn out with such 
 exactness, and with such an orderly and logical distri- 
 liution of all its parts, as will enable the writer to take 
 in at a glance the one end to be gained, and the means 
 of gaining it. If it secure this, no matter what method 
 he may follow in drawing it up, it is a perfect plan, 
 and anything more than this it does not aspire toeflect. 
 
 It is scarcely necessaiy to add that a sermon does 
 Jiot absolutely require to have three, or even two points. 
 If the time be sufficiently employed, or if the subject 
 }>e sufficiently developed by one point, it would be quite 
 useless to add more. The only thing to be borne in 
 
Proximate Prepakatiox for Preachixg. 105 
 
 mind is, that, if we do employ two or three points, they 
 must not be advanced in order to prove two or three 
 different truths, but simply as different ways of prov- 
 ing and developing the one great truth embodied in 
 the proposition of our discourse. 
 
 It may be useful to remark that there arc many excel- 
 lent works, especially in the French language, which 
 contain skeletons or plans of sermons. The Adjn- 
 menta Oratoris Sacri of the Rev. Father Schouppe, 
 S. J., and the Explanations of the Gospels for ever}' 
 Sunday in the year,* lately published l>y the same 
 author, are perhaps amongst the most valuable and 
 practically useful of recent publications on this mat- 
 ter. The i^lans which these works contain appear to 
 be drawn up in strict accordance with those conditions 
 which have been laid down as essential. They are 
 fertile in the suggestion of substantial ideas, which are 
 left to be clothed in the peculiar language and expres- 
 sion of him who employs them. 
 
 * " Evangelia Dominicarum ac Festoram Totius anui, Homiliticis 
 explicationibus Illustrata, etc., etc. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 FIYE PEIXCIPAL METHODS OF PREPARIN'G A 
 
 DISCOURSE. 
 
 HERE may be said to be five principal meth- 
 ods of preparing an instruction, or, sermon. 
 The first of these methods is to commit to 
 memory and deliver the sermon of another. 
 The second method consists in merely tracing out, in 
 the slightest manner, the skeleton of the discourse, its 
 divisions and leading arguments. The third is sub- 
 stantially the same as the second, with the difference 
 that it is still more meagre, ,since it supposes nothing 
 but a few moments' refiection before entering the pid- 
 pit. The ^tk consists in briefly -writing, what may 
 1)6 called the substance of tlie discourse ; indicating 
 the principal ideas which it is to contain, their order 
 and the transition from one to another, the affections 
 proper to be excited in each particular part, the prin- 
 cipal oratorical movements, and the most striking fig- 
 ures to be employed ; without, however, developing 
 any of these ideas, affections, or figures, in writing. 
 And tlie fifth consists in writing the whole discourse 
 and committing it to memory, word for word. 
 
Five MExnoDS of Prepaeing a Discourse. 107 
 
 It is plain that these five methods really resolve 
 themselves into two — writing with committing to 
 memory — and preparing without penning the whole 
 structure. For the o-i-e;iter elucidation of the matter 
 wc shall, however, offer a few simple remarks upon 
 each of these methods of preparation. 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to say in this place that we 
 do not pretend to lay down absolute laws which are 
 to bind all persons, in all circumstances whatsoever. 
 We merely indicate those general principles Avhich the 
 great mastei-s of sacred oratory, as well as experience, 
 point out as the fittest and safest to be followed in 
 ordinary circumstances and by ordinaiy persons ; leav- 
 ing, as we must necessarily do, their aj^ plication to 
 peculiar cases to the prudence and experience of those 
 who are actively engaged in the work of the ministry, 
 with an intimate conviction that he who undertakes 
 the preaching of the Gospel with that purity and sim- 
 plicity of intention which alone animate the true ser- 
 vant of God, will never commit any substantial or long- 
 continued mistake, either in regard to his style of 
 preaching, or the nature of the preparation which it 
 demands from him. 
 
 1. We venture then to say, in the first place, that 
 he who has talent to conceive, and time to compose, 
 liis own sermons, ought not to allow himself, at least 
 at all frequently, to preach the sermons of another. 
 Such a mode of action proceeds either from sloth, since 
 
108 Five Methods of Preparikg a Discourse. 
 
 we do not wish to undergo the hibour and pain of 
 composing our own discourse, or from vanity, which 
 prompts iLS to acquire the reputation of great preachers 
 by delivering the sermons of celebrated men. 
 
 We cannot expect that either of these motives will 
 draw down upon us the blessing of God. But, let us 
 suppose for a moment, that we are animated by purer 
 motives than these. It Avill still l)e certain that the 
 sermons of another can never be of much use to us. 
 It is almost impossible that they can, under the cir- 
 cumstances, be adapted to the capacit}' and peculiar 
 needs of our congregration. It is still less likely that 
 they will be adapted to our peculiar st^de and turn of 
 thouglit, or that we can deliver them with natural 
 feeling, ease, and grace. We have dwelt sufficiently 
 on this point when ti'cating of the practice of compo- 
 sition and the imitation of good models. A simple 
 exhortation, composed according to our capacity, and 
 delivered with unction and zeal, will, from the very 
 fact that it is our own, be vjistly more serviceable than 
 the grandest composition of another. 
 
 Besides, it is very difficult to suppose that, some 
 time or other, the plagiarism will not be discovered, 
 and ourselves naturally held up to the public gaze as 
 men who were either too ignorant or too careless to 
 discharge the essential duties of their state ; jackdaws, 
 to use the familiar fable, who sought to clothe them- 
 selves in the peacock's feathers. It is much better 
 
Five Methods of Preparing a Discourse. 109 
 
 and much more mauly to attempt to compose our own 
 discoui-ses as well as we are able. They will, at leixat, 
 be natural, and, in as far as they are natural, they will 
 l)e successful. 
 
 Add to all this, that, if we give oui-selvcs the ha1)it 
 of delivering the sermons of another, we shall gradually 
 lose the power, together with the practice, of compo- 
 sition ; we shall become unable to rely upon ourselves 
 and upon the resources of our own minds for our con- 
 ceptions and ideas, the greatest evil which can fall 
 upon any professional man, but, above all, upon the 
 pastor of souls. 
 
 On the other hand, it must be admitted that, when 
 we have absolutely neither the time nor the power to 
 compose, it is allowable to preach the discourses of 
 another, provided that it be done simply from a motive 
 of zeal, and with a view to the spiritual good of our 
 flock, since it is evident that it is better that they 
 should be thus instructed than left without any instruc- 
 tion whatsoever. This is as well in conformity with 
 the advice of St. Augustine, as it was the practice of 
 many bishops in the early ages of the Church, who 
 caused those priests, who were themselves unable to 
 preach, to read the instructions which were sent to 
 them, in order that the people might not be left with- 
 out that teaching which was necessary for them, and 
 this was the origin of the instructions which are found 
 in the Ritual. 
 
110 Five Methods of Peeparing a Discourse. 
 
 However, although it may be allowable in these cir- 
 cumstances to preach the sermons of another, the pas- 
 tor must employ many wise precautions to ward off, 
 as much as possible, the inevitable inconveniences of 
 this system. He must not select disconnected frag- 
 ments, still less those well-known and brilliant pas- 
 sages which would be recognized at once. Neither 
 must he make choice of any matter on which he can 
 lay his hand, collected hither and thither, without 
 unity and without taste. If he do, he will be in the 
 predicament which befel a certain preacher of our 
 acquaintance, who came to us one day in great per- 
 plexity to consult us on the subject of a sermon. " I 
 have taken great pains," said he, " to write out twelve 
 or thirteen pages from various French sermon books, 
 and, now, after all my trouble, I canU make tliem fitP 
 But he, who, for a just cause, makes use of the ser- 
 mon of another, must in the first place be careful to 
 select such a one as will be best adapted to his liock, 
 and equally careful to expunge from it whatever may 
 not be suitable to them. He must bear in mind that 
 the greater part of the sermons which are published, 
 more especially those in the French language, having 
 been composed for the court, or for great cities, are 
 wiitten in a style which is above the comprehension 
 of simple and milettered persons, and treat of vices to 
 which in all probability they are not subject. 
 
 The golden rule in these circumstances is, to select 
 
Five Methods of Preparixg a Discouese. Ill 
 
 the most simple dlscoui-ses which the preacher can 
 iind. Not only must he be careful to choose such an 
 instruction as, omnibus pensatis, will be most useful 
 to his flock, but the pastor must be equally careful to 
 select such a one as ynW be best adapted to his own 
 peculiar temperament, character, and style. He will 
 endeavour to become penetrated with those sentiments 
 and affections which it may contain, in order to ren- 
 der them his own as much as possible when he delivers 
 tiieni. As we have already said, he labours under no 
 ordinary difiiculty in this matter, since the composi- 
 tion of another can hardly ever become perfectly 
 natural in the mouth of him who thus makes use of 
 it, or perfectly express his turn of thought and his 
 manner of conceiving a subject ; whilst, at the same 
 time, these qualities seem to be essential to success. 
 Hence, in conclusion, although we have laid down 
 the circumstances in which it may sometimes be allowa- 
 1)le to preach the sermons of another, and the princi- 
 pal precautious which are to be observed in doing so; 
 we earnestly recommend the young preacher never to 
 resort to this expedient so long as he is able to deliver 
 a discourse of his own, no matter how simple its style, 
 or how elementary its character, provided it possess 
 those fundamental qualities which can never be dispens- 
 ed with — solid instruction earnestly delivered. 
 
 If it be the fruit of his own honest labour God will 
 surely bless the work of his hands, and render his sim- 
 
112 Five Methods of Prepaeing a Discouese. 
 
 pie discourse a thousand times more successful and 
 more fruitful than those polished sentences and those 
 rounded periods which may, indeed, issue from his 
 lips, but which can scarcely ever, if ever, be uttered 
 with that eloquence which can alone move the elo- 
 quence of the heaii ; that eloquence which must 
 almost always be wanting when a man merely repeats 
 the language and sentiments of another. 
 
 2, We venture, in the next place, to say that there 
 are very few occasions on which a clergyman ought 
 to satisf}" himself with merely tracing out a meagre 
 skeleton of his discourse, simply indicating its divi- 
 sions and the heads of its leadino^ aro-uments.' Our 
 opinion is founded on the conviction that the preacher, 
 ceilainly the young one, who makes no other prepara- 
 tion than this, is exposing himself to the imminent 
 risk of preaching the divine word in such a manner, 
 as will neither be worthy of his ministry, nor useful 
 to souls. There are veiy few preachers wlio can 
 reasonably promise themselves that, with such a pre- 
 paration as this, they will be able to address their peo- 
 ple solidly or clearly, or impart to their discourse that 
 order, interest, and force, which are due alike to the 
 dignity of the Word of God and the salvation of souls. 
 They are much more likely to be overwhelmed with 
 that sterility of mind, dryness of heart, and utter 
 absence of eveiything like vigour or force, which will 
 
Five Methods of Preparing a Discourse. 113 
 
 render their sermon useless, perhaps even worse than 
 useless. 
 
 3. Even supposing a clerg3anan to be bona fide 
 inuible to write his discourse, or exempt, by his tal- 
 ents or experience, fronj doing so, we do not think it 
 sufficient simply to meditate on his sul)ject for a few 
 moments before entering the pulpit. He should, 
 moreover, carefully determine the matter of his dis- 
 course, the plan and whole order of its arrangement. 
 
 This is merely a development of the idea laid down 
 in the preceding section — viz., that it is almost impos- 
 sible to speak with such a preparation, or, more strictly, 
 with such an absence of it, as was there indicated, 
 without failing in the respect due to God and our 
 ministry ; without falling into inextricable disorder 
 and confusion. 
 
 If we are not able to write our discourse, the very 
 least we can do is, to spai'e no effort that is jjossible 
 under the circumstances, to secure order and methodi- 
 cal arrangement, to give expression to some ideas that 
 may be solid, and some sentiments that may be becom- 
 ing, to bring some appropriate passages of Scripture 
 to bear upon om* subject, and to confine ourselves 
 within such limits as may be fitting, since diffuseness 
 is one of the most common and trying fellings of those 
 who speak withoiit careful preparation. 
 
 It is true that Fenelon, in one of his dialogues on 
 
 the eloquence of the pulpit, seems to write in com- 
 
 8 
 
114 Five Methods of Prepaking a Discouese. 
 
 menclation of those who preach without having writ- 
 ten their discourse ; but, as we shall show in the next 
 section, we equally agree with him in the sense in 
 which he speaks, and luider the restrictions which he 
 employs. As he himself says, he speaks of " a man 
 Avho is well instructed and who has a great facility of 
 expressing himself ; a man who has meditated deeply, 
 in all their bearings, the principles of the sulyect which 
 he is to treat ; who has conceived that subject in his 
 intellect and arranged his arguments in the clearest 
 manner ; who has prepared a certain number of strik- 
 ing; fio;ures and of touching sentiments which may 
 render it sensible and bring it home to his hearers ; 
 who knows perfectly all that he ought to say, and the 
 precise place in which to say it, so that nothing remains, 
 at the moment of delivery, but to find Avords with 
 which to express himself" As we shall presently show, 
 this is, for certain persons, and with certain restrictions, 
 a most excellent manner of preparing an instruction ; 
 but it differs very widely from that which consists in 
 merelv meditatino; on our matter for a few moments 
 before entering the pulpit. Hence, 
 
 4. We admit that after a person has written his ser- 
 mbns for some years, and thus acquired a profound 
 and at the same time expedite knowledge of the mj^s- 
 teries of our Holy Faith, together with an ease and 
 facility of speaking in public, it is not only alloAvable, 
 but it may be even more advisable, to be content with 
 
Five Methods of Preparing a Discourse. 115 
 
 that summaiy preparation which consists in writing, 
 what may be called, the substance of the discourse ; 
 indicating the leading ideas which it is to contain, 
 their order and the transition from one to another ; 
 the affections proper to be excited in each particular 
 part ; the principal oratorical movements and the most 
 striking figures to be employed ; without, however, 
 developing these ideas, affections, or figures, in Avriting. 
 We will briefly state the reason on which we rely 
 for this assertion. We take it for granted that the 
 extemporary sermon, in the true sense of the word 
 (and in another part of this work we shall show that 
 the true meaning of an extemporary sermon is not, as 
 is generally understood, a discourse delivered without 
 preparation, but a discourse carefully prepared as to 
 its substance, although not written out in all its parts,) 
 will be as a general rule, and with the necessaiy quali- 
 fications, positis poneiidis, more successful than one 
 which is wi'itten and delivered from memoiy. The 
 written sermon delivered from memoiy, must always 
 be to a certain extent stiff' and formal. The extem- 
 porary sermon, on the other hand, is delivered with 
 an earnestness which proves that we speak the lan- 
 guage of conviction, and with a wannth which goes at 
 once to the hearts of our hearers. The preacher who 
 delivers from memoiy a sermon which he has written, 
 always has, with some rare exceptions, the appearance 
 of a school-boy repeating a task, more or less perfectly, 
 
116 Five Methods op Peeparij^g a Discourse. 
 
 since it is veiy uncommon, indeed, to find any one who 
 thoroughly overcomes this ahiiost inevitable inconve- 
 nience of such a system. The extemporary discourse 
 is delivered in such a natural manner as gains the con- 
 fidence of our hearers, diverts their attention from the 
 mere fonii of our matter and turns it full upon its sub- 
 stance, thus disposing them to profit more deeply and 
 efficaciously by our instruction. The preacher l3eing 
 released from the necessity of keeping a constant and 
 strained watch upon the mere words of his discourse, 
 lest he forget them and with them lose the whole 
 thread of his argument^ is at once more free and more 
 vigorous in his action. He is able to give the rein to 
 his zeal and yet keep it within due limits. His words, 
 springing immediately and on the spur of the moment 
 from his heart, are living and full of energy. The 
 warmth with which he is animated impails to his 
 figures and his sentiments an earnestness, reality, and 
 depth, which they would have acquired from no 
 amount of mere technical study. He is at libei-ty to 
 proportion his discourse to the eficct which he wishes 
 to produce ; he is able to follow and keej) pace with 
 that impression ; to insist upon, and develop still more 
 forcibly, those points which he perceives to have struck 
 home : to present in other shapes, and mider more 
 sensible forms, those which he perceives to have fallen 
 short of their aim. These constitute some of the 
 principal advantages which the extemporary possesses 
 
Five Methods of Preparing a Discourse. 117 
 
 over the sermon Avritten and delivered from memory ; 
 for, of coiu"se, we make no mention of that which is 
 merely read fiom a book. In no sense of tlie word 
 can such a performance be called a sermon^ neither 
 will the taste of the present day, whatever may have 
 been the custom of fomier times, tolerate it. It is 
 tedious in the extreme, and it must be practically use- 
 less, since it is next to impossible that it can be 
 adapted to either preacher or congregation. 
 
 Whilst, however, the extemporary sennon, as we 
 understand it, has its decided advantages, it is also ex- 
 pQsed to some inconveniences of a very serious char- 
 acter. These are principally a want of correctness, 
 either in doctrine or composition, and a want of order. 
 These inconveniences are met by the qualities of age, 
 of talents, and of experience, which we require in 
 those who may justly essay to speak with merely that 
 summary or substantial preparation which we have 
 attempted to describe under this heading. But, as 
 these qualities, so essential and indispensable, not 
 merely to success, but to absolute correctness of doc- 
 trinal teaching, can scarcely be expected to be found 
 in the ecclesiastical student, or young preacher, we 
 venture to advance another proposition, viz. : 
 
 5. That it is necessary to write our sermons, or at 
 least the greater number of them, and commit them 
 to memory in the way to be hereafter explained, until 
 such time as we shall have treated the principal Mys- 
 
118 Five Methods of Pkepakixg a Discourse. 
 
 teries of the Faith, shall have acquired an expedite, 
 clear, and solid knowledge of Christian doctrine ; 
 together with a great facility of delivering it to others 
 in an easy, pleasing, and, above all, earnest manner. 
 
 This proposition requii-es very little explanation at 
 our hands, since all that has been advanced in this 
 chapter has tended, either directly or indirectly, to 
 the development or establishment of it. We have en- 
 forced to the best of our ability the absolute necessity 
 of preparation, and, in dcA^eloping the various methods 
 of preparing, we have substantially proved that this 
 is the only one on which we can rely, or which. is 
 really worthy the name, so far at least as the young 
 preacher is concerned. In conclusion, we will merely 
 glance once more at the immense disadvantaoes to 
 which the young preacher who follows any other 
 method exposes himself. 
 
 Let him be quite certain, there are veiy few young 
 clergymen whose talent is sufficiently cultivated, or 
 who possess such experience, as fits them to preach 
 the word of God in a becoming and efiective manner, 
 without first writing their sennon. As a general rule, 
 those who attempt to do so speak without exactness, 
 precision, order, or plan; of couree, they may succeed 
 in talking, but we speak of the preaching of God's 
 word, as God expects it to be done. If they have 
 any plan whatever in their discourse they frequently 
 lose sight of it by tedious and worse than useless di 
 
Five Methods of Preparing a Discourse. 119 
 
 gressions. At one time they weary their hearei-s by 
 their vain prolixity, at another put them to pain aud 
 confusion by their laboured efforts to find expression; 
 ;ind thus the discourse, havmg neither solidity of 
 matter nor grace of delivery to recommend it, brings 
 neither gloiy to God nor advantage to souls. 
 
 Even supposing the young preacher to possess in 
 radice the faculty of speaking well, let him be con- 
 vinced that he must be content to develop it in the 
 commencement by writing. No matter how brilliant 
 his talent, or keen his intellect, he will not be able to 
 cultivate the one or the other in the most profitable 
 manner, except by a good deal of laborious commit- 
 ting of his conceptions to j^aper, and a still more 
 laborious working of them out. This may, of course, 
 impose some restraint upon his imagination, and im- 
 part some momentary stiffness to his style and deliv- 
 ery. But, these are merely transitory l^lemishes. 
 The}'' will melt away before the warmth of his grow- 
 ing genius, and of the talents which have ])een thus 
 carefully nurtured and developed, till, in a short time, 
 not a vestio;e of them will remain: whilst, on the other 
 hand, if, to save himself trouble, or through natural 
 disinclination, he shirk this necessary lal)our in the 
 beginning, no amount of polish or mere facility will ever 
 supply the want of that order, solidity, and clearness, 
 which must be acquired in youth, if ever, and which 
 is only acquired in the manner we have described. 
 
120 Five Methods of Pkeparing a Discoukse. 
 
 Hence it is that we impress so strenuously upon ec- 
 clesiastical students to turn the years of their college 
 course to the veiy best account, since this is their 
 golden opportunity as regards the study of sacred elo- 
 quence. Hence it is that we impress upon them again 
 and again to bear in mind during their season of pro- 
 bation, and during the first years of their priesthood, 
 the wise advice of Cicero, Caput est, quaniplurimum 
 sa^bere. 
 
 And now let us glance for a moment at the great 
 advantages of this system of careful and accurate pre- 
 paration. 
 
 In the first place, it enables the preacher to lay up 
 a fund of most useful and essential matter which he 
 will find it most difiicult, if not impossible, to acquire 
 later on in life; since he who does not write in the 
 commencement, and until he has treated the greater 
 portion of the mysteries and doctrine of our holy 
 Faith, loses the principal fruit of his studies and of 
 his labours, and each time that he begins to prepare a 
 sermon, he has to commence anew from the veiy 
 foundation, a labour which as he advances in life he is 
 very unlikely to undertake, but which is none the less 
 essential on that account. 
 
 In the second place, by thus preparing himself the 
 young preacher perfects, nourishes, and develops the 
 talent for preaching which Almighty God may have 
 bestowed upon him, in a higher or lower degree ac- 
 
Five Methods of Preparing a Discourse. 121 
 
 cording to His good pleasure, but with the intention 
 and sole purpose that the talent, whatever it be, which 
 He has entrusted to His servant be turned to the very 
 best account. 
 
 In obliging himself to write, the young preacher, 
 as we have already shown, obliges himself to express 
 his ideas in the most correct manner. He shai'pens 
 the powei's of his intellect in thus compelling himself 
 to arrange his thoughts in orderly and logical coher- 
 ence, and to render his reasoning closer, and more pre- 
 cise; w^hilst he cultivates and develops his taste by 
 attending to the perfect harmony and beauty of the 
 general march of his discourse, to the purity of its 
 style, to the justness of its conception, and to the ele- 
 gance of its expression. The more he studies his sub- 
 ject, as a natural consequence, the more perfectly he 
 treats it; and thus, after a little labour, painful per- 
 haps in the beginning, and a little diligent care never 
 to speak without such preparation as becomes the 
 Masier whom he serves and the holy work entrusted 
 to his hand, he will by degrees, quickly and almost 
 insensibly, acquire the habit of speaking well, of 
 preaching the word of God m dignity and in power 
 W'ithout eflbit and without labom*, except such as that 
 which a right-minded and conscientious man will ever 
 bestoAv upon any work wdiich he undertakes, or, is 
 bound to discharge for God. 
 
 Let him neglect to take this necessaiy trouble, to 
 
123 Five Methods of Peepaking a Discourse. 
 
 undergo this essential labour, in the commencement 
 of his ecclesiastical career, and he will never repair 
 the injury which he will thus inflict upon the acci- 
 dental glory of God, upon the eternal interests of his 
 own immortal soul, and the souls of those for whom 
 he must answer before the judgment seat of Christ. 
 When disinclination or any .human or unbecoming 
 motive may tempt him to omit this labour, to shirk 
 this perhaps paiul\il preparation, let him think of the 
 dreadful day to come when he shall not dare to look 
 upon his Master's face unless he can say with the 
 Apostle of the Nations, Afundus sum a sanguine om- 
 nium ; non enim s^ihterfagi quominus annuntiarem 
 omne consilium Dei vobis* 
 
 To sum up, then, in a few words. Whilst we admit 
 that there are some who may not require a more elab- 
 orate preparation, in order to preach well, than such 
 a one as we have described under No. 4 of this chap- 
 ter, we take it for granted that the young preacher 
 will, during the first years of his ministry, write at 
 least a considerable number of his sermons. The 
 lectures in this work have been dra^vn up and pre- 
 pared under this supposition, and primarily with a 
 view to aid the student or young preacher in compos- 
 ing his discourse. At the same time, it is hoped that 
 they will be scarcely less useful to those who, from 
 age, experience, or talent, may be excused from such 
 * Act. XX, 26. 
 
Five Methods of Preparing a Discourse. 123 
 
 u formal method of preparation; since tliese, equally 
 with those, will carefully arrange the plan of their 
 discoui'se and secure its essential lun'ty, follow the 
 same rules of ai'gumentation, and adopt the same 
 means of pei-suasion. The only difference will be that 
 the young preacher Avill, for the reasons assigned, re- 
 duce his ideas to wi'ilten words, whilst his elder in the 
 ministiy will content himself with a more purely men- 
 tal development of his conceptions, and will trust, at 
 least substantially, to the inspiration of the moment 
 for the spoken words with which to express them. 
 
 Such, so far as we have been able to collect and in- 
 terpret them, are the leading principles laid do^^ni by 
 the great mastei"s of Sacred Eloquence on this matter 
 of the necessity, and the various methods, of prepar- 
 ing a discourse. It is neither our province nor our 
 wish to dogmatize on this subject, any more than it 
 would be becoming in us to pretend to lay down gen- 
 eral laws which should suffer no exceptions. '\\q 
 necessarily confine ourselves to this brief, and what we 
 believe to be, correct exposition of these general prin- 
 ciples; leading their special application to the pru- 
 dence, discretion, and, above all, to the earnest zeal, 
 of the pastor of souls. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 PROPER TIME I^^ WHICH TO WRITE. 
 
 jAVING fixed upon his subject, having 
 studied it deeply and collected a mass of 
 matter bearing upon it, having by a skilful 
 and orderly plan secured unity of view 
 and unity of means, the young pi-eacher now proceeds 
 to a most essential part of his preparation, to one 
 on which his success principally depends, viz., the 
 actual composition of his sermon, the perfect ren- 
 dering in words of those vigorous ideas which 
 lie has already conceived, and of those deep 
 emotions which his subject has already called 
 into being. It is now that he is to impart to 
 his discourse proportion and harmony, grace and 
 strength, dignity and unction. It is now that he is 
 to paint nature, and to animate his figures Avith a liv- 
 ing soul. It is now that, by the charms of his stjde, 
 he is to clothe his skeleton in robes so rich and pure 
 as may render his sermon truly efficacious to instruct, 
 to please, and to move his audience to the practice of 
 all Christian virtue in its highest degree. To secure 
 this happy result he must follow ceilain practical 
 
The Proper Time in which to Write. 125 
 
 rules, ever Ijcaring in mind that his object is, not to 
 form a purely artificial system, but to peifect that 
 which flows from and is fouded in njiture, to raise it 
 to its highest pitch of excellence, 
 
 1. The skilful orator never writes except when his 
 heart is warmed to his work, and he feels full of it. 
 To wish to compose when the intellect, the heart, and 
 the imagination are silent ; when we feel ourselves 
 cold, sterile, or without inclination for this kind of 
 work ; is simply to lose our time, to break our head 
 without any result. 
 
 It is impossible to succeed, or to attain any degree 
 of excellence, unless we write fervente calamo, when 
 our heart is full of our subject, when we feel an irresist- 
 ible impulse, so to speak, to give expression to those 
 ideas which are burning within our breasts, and to act 
 upon our fellow-men. This, and this alone, is the time 
 when a man can write with vigour, and gi\e expres- 
 sion to thoughts which will move the hearts of his 
 hearers to their very depths. It is then that words 
 pour upon him, and the richest colours flow from his 
 pencil. Hence it is that the skilful orator writes down 
 on the instant whatever his intellect, his heart, his 
 imagination, his sensibility, suggests to him as par- 
 ticularly useful, striking, or moving on his subject. 
 He develops these ideas according to the inspiration 
 of the moment, without troubling himself about mere 
 coiTectness of style. He seizes those happy moments 
 
12G The Propee Time in which to Write. 
 
 of inspiration when the soiil, full even to overflowing 
 with its subject, seems to solicit him to give expression 
 to the ideas and sentiments with which it is penetrated, 
 whilst the heart, all on fire, dictates the composition 
 M hich he seems rather to receive than to produce, and 
 which he receives in such abundance that the pen can 
 scarcely keep pace with the rapidity of his thoughts. 
 
 The greatest orator is the man who best knows how 
 to seize these happy moments and turn them to great- 
 est account. That which is composed in these favoura- 
 ble circumstances, is worth more than hours of laboured 
 writing and of studied diction, because it is the fruit 
 of a heart that is deeply moved ; and when the heart 
 of the preacher is thus moved it will speak to the 
 hearts of his hearers with a force, a reality, and a fruit, 
 Avhich all the rules of rhetoric could never teach it. 
 
 It is most essential, then, when we feel ourselves 
 thus happily moved by our subject, not to allow our 
 intellect to become distracted, or our heart to grow 
 cold ; but to turn to the utmost profit the precious 
 moments which, once lost, may never return. To 
 guard against this danger of growing cold, and of los- 
 ing our grasp upon our subject, we should write down 
 i-apidly everything that presents itself to us, without 
 troublina: ourselves about the exactness or the finish 
 of our expressions, without occupying ourselves unduly 
 about the rules of rhetoric, the polish of our style, or 
 the elegiuice of our words. The great thing is to seize 
 
The Proper Time in which to Write. 1:27 
 
 the thought, and whilst the fire of inspiration is burn- 
 ing within our breasts, to nourish it more and more 
 eagerly that Ave may make it efficacious for procuring 
 the glory of God and the salvation of immortal souls. 
 If we neglect to grasp this happy thought at the fit- 
 ting moment it may never recur to us, whilst defects 
 of style and inelegances of expression can readily be 
 repaired at any time, during the revision and correc- 
 tion of our composition. 
 
 The writer will hardly secure this inspiration, as we 
 have called it, this happy moving of the deepest pow- 
 ers of his soul, without writing for a good while at 
 one sitting. Some young writers seem to think that 
 it is sufiicieut to devote any odd moments, any spare 
 half-hours, to the composition of their sermons. No 
 nu'stake could be more fatal to success than this. Even 
 those most versed in composition require to write some 
 time before they warm to their subject, before they are 
 thoroughly inspired b}^ it. We venture to say that 
 the greatest orators who have moved the hearts of 
 men would have laughed at the idea of composing 
 their sermons in spare half-hours. How foolish, then, 
 for mere novices to aspire to a success which the very 
 masters in Israel could not have achieved by such 
 means ! 
 
 We venture also to say to the young writer, that it 
 is scarcely worth his while to sit down to his desk, 
 miless he can secure at least an hour or two at one sit- 
 
128 The Peoper Time ik which to Write. 
 
 ting. Ill odd moments, at spare half-hours, he may 
 of course compose a certain number of cold sentences, 
 and string together a ceiiain amount of vapid ideas 
 and empty platitudes. Let him not flatter himself 
 that it is thus that he can conceive those burning 
 thoughts, those convincing reasons, those deep emo- 
 tions, which, setting his own heart on fire, will impart 
 some portion of its flames to the hearts of his hearers, 
 and thus secure the highest, the holiest, and the 
 noblest ends of sacred oratory. If he hope to succeed 
 l)y any such half-anjl-half preparation, he is but mis- 
 erably deceiving himself, and laying up a store of 
 future failure, of bitter disappointment, and, worst of 
 all, of utter uselessuess in the service of God ; so far, 
 at least, as one of thd most important means of advanc- 
 ing those sacred interests which his Master has placed 
 in his hands is concerned. v. 
 
 2. It is in praj'er and meditation that the preacher 
 seeks to fill himself with his subject, and to acquire 
 that true warmth of feeling and expression which alone 
 become the Christian orator. If, after prayerful con- 
 sideration of his subject, he find himself cold and in- 
 sensible, he will defer his comiDosition to some more 
 favoured time. Tliat which will not come at one 
 moment may come at another, and come in abundant 
 profusion. 
 
 3. Written composition ought to be distinguished 
 principally by clearness, jDurity, and variety. 
 
The Proper Time in which to Write. 129 
 
 By clearness we understand thut quality which ron- 
 del's a composition perfectly lucid in conception and 
 in expression, in argnmentation and in the general 
 order and connection of the whole ; so that it is pre- 
 sented to the mind, even of the illiterate and simple, 
 in such a manner as to be perfectly intelligible, with- 
 out obscurity or mistiness. 
 
 It is pure when rt is written according to the ap- 
 proved rules of rhetoric, both as regards composition 
 and style. 
 
 There is a variety when the style is modified in 
 accordance with the subject treated, and the different 
 parts of the discourse. Thus, in the simple explana- 
 tion of principles the style should be plain and una- 
 dorned ; flowing and unembarrassed in narration ; ner- 
 vous and close in argument ; strong and rapid in the 
 appeal to the passions. Subjects which are full of 
 feeling do not admit a pompous or laboured style, but 
 one which embraces sentiment and pathos. Subjects 
 which have their inspiration in the imagination, strictly 
 so called, find their expression in a polished, pictur- 
 esque, and figurative style. Grand subjects require 
 the grand style ; that which has its foundation in the 
 greatness of the preacher's soul, and the elevated tone 
 of his sentiments ; that which displays lofty thoughts, 
 deep emotions, and beautiful figures, expressed in cor- 
 responding language. Simple subjects rely for their 
 eflfect solely upon justness of thought, neatness of com- 
 
130 The Pkopek Time i^s' which to Write. 
 
 position, and absence of any apparent effort to please. 
 This variety must flow from, and find its inspiration 
 in, nature. When we perceive that it is failing, and 
 our composition is becoming monotonous and dull, it 
 is well to lay our pen aside for a little while and betake 
 ourselves to meditation, that we may rekindle the 
 sacred fire of inspiration, and thus impart to every 
 thought that character and warmth which alone can 
 render it telling and efficacious. As we shall treat of 
 the style of pulpit eloquence in a special chapter, it 
 would be useless to enter more fully into this question 
 at present. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 INTRODUCTION OF THE DISGOUHSE. 
 
 ICERO aucl most of the older rhetoricians, 
 assign six parts to an oration, — Exordinm, 
 Narration, Proposition including Division, 
 Proof, Refutation, and Peroration, or Pathe- 
 tic Part. Many of the formal sermon Aviiters of the 
 last centuiy follow the same order, which is also that 
 laid down by Blair in his Lectures on Belles Lettres. 
 We shall adopt a division which, although more sim- 
 ple, is for all practical purposes, mutatis mutandis; 
 substantially the same, and describe a sermon as com- 
 posed of three leading paiis: — I. Exordium, or intro- 
 duction ; II. The Body of the Discourse, or Argumen- 
 tative Part ; and. III. The Pathetic Part, or Perora- 
 tion. We lay these down as the essential parts of a 
 sermon, and, by a sermon, too, we understand in this 
 place, a "set sermon," or foi-mal discom-se. 
 
 We do not pretend to say that a preacher is bound, 
 or that it is even desirable, to deliver " set sennons'' 
 on every occasion. Still, there are many occasions 
 when such a discourse is expected by a congregation, 
 and is due to them ; and, as those familiar instructions 
 
132 Intkoduction of the Discoukse. 
 
 which will be delivered on ordinary Sundays difler 
 from the " set sermon," not in the substantial ordet^ of 
 their arrangement, but in the greater simplicity of their 
 style and manner of treatment, we lay these down as 
 the essential paiiB of every discourse, in genere, since 
 the familiar instruction, equally with the " set sermon," 
 will comprise an introduction, an instructive and argu- 
 mentative part, and an effort at persuasion, or, the 
 moving of our audience to the adoption of good reso- 
 lutions, which is the special object of the Peroration 
 or Pathetic part. With these preliminary remarks 
 we now proceed to the consideration of the paiis or 
 members of a discourse. 
 
 The Exordium or introduction comprises three lead- 
 ing points, the Text, the Exordium, strictly so called, 
 oi» Introduction of the subject, and the Proposition, 
 developed when necessary, by means of the Division. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 TEXT. 
 
 The custom of placing a text of Holy Scripture at 
 the head of our discourse comes down to us from the 
 earliest ages of the church. In opening our sermon 
 with a passage from Holy Writ, we, as it were, pre- 
 sent our credentials to our flock, and proclaim our right 
 to speak as the amljassadors of Him whose word it is ; 
 whilst, at the same time, we secure for oui"selves and 
 
Introduction of the Discouesb. 133 
 
 our discoui'se an amount of reverent attention which 
 no mere words of our own could possibly gain. It is 
 evident that the text is not to be chosen at hazard, but 
 with care and discretion, and in accordance with the 
 followuig practical rules. 
 
 1. The text ought to contain in substtmce the sub- 
 ject as well as the division of the discourse, either in 
 formal terms or in consequences which can easily be 
 deduced. It ought to be, in other words, the founda- 
 tion on which the whole development is to be raised, 
 the germ of the whole discourse ; so that, after hear- 
 ing it announced, we can understand, in a general man- 
 ner, what is to be the subject of the preacher's sermon. 
 
 2. The text ought to have a natural, not a forced, 
 relation to the subject of the sermon. As far as possi- 
 ble, this relation should be literal, since, if the text be 
 allegorical, it requires a long, tedious, and often strained 
 explanation which not merely wearies the audience, 
 but trespasses unpardonably upon the body of the dis- 
 comse. There are, of coui-se, circumstances iu which 
 a literal application of the text is less necessary, and 
 some, where it is not possible, as, for example, in 
 Panegyrics, Funeral Orations, and cei-tain Moral Sub- 
 jects. 
 
 3. The text should be aimounced, simply and faith- 
 fully, as it stands in Holy Writ, without pamphi-ase 
 or application. There is another time and place for 
 this when it is necessary. ..ij <.; ,<.•., ,,. 
 
134 Inteoduction of the Discourse. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 EXORDIUM STRICTLY SO CALLED. 
 
 After the simple announcement of his text the 
 preacher passes on at once to his exordium, strictly so 
 called. The exordium is merely a becoming introduc- 
 tion of the subject ; and it has for its object to dispose 
 our audience to receive favourably that which we are 
 about to say, that thus we may gain their good-will, 
 excite their interest, and secure their attention, with 
 of course, the view of their ultimate conviction and 
 persuasion, and from this idea of it we can easily con- 
 clude that a good exordium is a matter of gi*eat impor- 
 tance. 
 
 We all know how mnch depends in the ordinaiy 
 affairs of life upon first impressions. The success of 
 his seiTnon often depends upon the iirst impressions 
 which a preacher makes upon his hearei-s in his exor- 
 di um . If these impressions be favourable, his and i ence 
 will listen to the remaining part of his discourse with 
 pleasm-e and attention ; and, consequently, with profit. 
 If he tiu-n them against him in the very commence- 
 ment, he will find it most dithcult, if not impossible, 
 to recover the groimd which he has lost through the 
 ))ad taste displayed in his exordium, or through his 
 inexperience in not introducing his subject in a more 
 l^ecoming manner. 
 
 According to Cicero, the object of the exordium is 
 
IXTUODUCTION OF THE DISCOURSE. 135 
 
 to render our hearei-s, benn'olos, attentos, et dociles ; 
 and, although it is true, that in many instances our 
 licarei-s may be aheudy Avell-disposed, and prepared to 
 listen not only with attention and good feeling but also 
 with docility to him who speaks to them in the sacred 
 name of religion ; on the other hand, the matter to be 
 introduced to their notice is so serious in itself, and of 
 such vast impoi'tance to them, w^iilst the sacrifice of 
 human interests and of ini worthy passions which the 
 Christian preacher necessarily demands from his flock 
 is so painful to flesh and blood, as to require, as an 
 ordinary rule, to be brought under their notice with a 
 certain amount of skilful introduction. The preacher 
 will gain his end by the discreet and judicious appli- 
 cation of a few very simple and obvious rules. 
 
 1. In the fii"st place the sermon must be opened, 
 and the subject introduced, with modesty. There is 
 nothing w'hich so powerfully prejudices an audience 
 against a preacher as any appearance of presumption 
 or self-conceit in him — any air of bravado, which seems 
 to indicate that he is either above, or reckless of, the 
 opinion w^hich his hearei-s maj^ entertain of him — any 
 air of aft'ected elegance, which displays itself in the 
 aiTangement of his surplice, or the careful placing of 
 his handkerchief on the front of the pulpit, as if in 
 readiness to wipe away the tears which are presently 
 
 to floAV. 
 
 Little weaknesses of this kind, which are simply 
 
136 Iktkoduction of the Discourse. 
 
 manifestations of the natural man, are veiy fatal to a 
 preacher. Our audience expect us to be above such 
 trifling. They come, as a general rule, prepared to 
 look upon us as men of God, and, if at the commence- 
 ment of our discourse, we destroy the illusion by the 
 absurd display of some little petty vanity, we inflict 
 an iiTeparable injury upon ourselves and our ministry. 
 One of the most common forms which this " natural- 
 ness," so to call it, takes, is the introduction of our- 
 selves into our exordium. It is seldom that a man so 
 far forgets himself, or is so far deluded, as to speak in 
 open praise of himself and his qualifications for his 
 task, but it is not uncommon to hear a preacher 
 expressing regret that his subject had not fallen into 
 abler hands — hands better fitted to do it justice. Now, 
 this is simply a refinement of self-love, it is simply 
 fishing for praise with a hook baited Avith false humil- 
 ity. It is, as we remember to have seen it styled by 
 an old wi'iter, humilUas cmn hmao. Our audience see 
 through the flimsy veil at a glance, and their respect 
 and i"everence for us ai"e lowered at once. They know 
 that the man who has a due conception of the great- 
 ness of his ofiice, the man who like St. Paul preaches 
 only Jesus Christ and Him crucified, has no time, and 
 less inclination, to pieach himself, to endeavour to 
 exhalt himself by an affected humility. 
 
 The only safe and general rule that we can venture 
 to give the young preacher on this point is, never to 
 
Introduction of the Discourse. 137 
 
 speak of himself, good or bad, in the pulpit, and, least 
 of all, to do so in his exordium. We do not mean to 
 say, of coui-se, that this rule suftei-s no exceptions ; l)ut 
 the circumstances in which he can introduce any men- 
 tion of himself into his exordium are so rare, and 
 require to be managed with so much dexterity, whilst 
 they suppose so much real modesty and luiuffected 
 simplicity in a preacher, that we cannot venture to 
 point them out. On the other hand, talent and virtue 
 are set off to the greatest advantage by modesty. It 
 imparts a character of simplicity to the preacher which 
 opens the way to pei"suasion, by exciting the interest 
 and conciliating the good will of his audience. It is 
 a testimony of the consideration in which the preacher 
 holds his hearers ; and they, naturally being pleased 
 to be thus esteemed, listen to him with favour, and are 
 predisposed to be convinced even before he has well 
 begun to speak. 
 
 2. The exordium ought to be brief, that is to say, 
 it ought to go promptly and directly to its end, which 
 is a general introduction of the whole subject. Ordi- 
 narily it admits of no details, arguments, proofs, or 
 figures, except those of a simple nature. In familiar 
 discourses it is nothing more than a brief and plain 
 explanation of the text, or gospel of the day, with the 
 consequent deduction of the proposition. This brevity 
 is, of course, relative : since the introduction must 
 have a due proportion to the rest of the discourse. 
 
138 Introduction of the Discourse. 
 
 Experienced writers say that the exordium should not 
 be more than oue-eis^hth of the whole sermon. 
 
 3. The exordium ought to be simple. It admits 
 of no grand figures or laboured oratorical displa}''. 
 As our audience are supposed to be calm and mimoved 
 in the commencement of our sermon, it is only becom- 
 ing to address them in a manner which is in conso- 
 nance with their feelings. As the sun does not attain 
 his meridian splendour but by degrees, so the jareacher 
 must proceed gradually until, at the close of his dis- 
 course, he reaches the most elevated heights of oratoiy. 
 
 Gravitatis plurimum^ splendoris et concinnitatis 
 'minimum* is the advice of Cicero in regard to the 
 introduction of a discourse. 
 
 Any display of art or showy oratoiy in the exor- 
 dium is attended with two great inconveniences. It 
 makes our hearers suspect that we seek to please rather 
 than to convert, to satisfy our own vanity rather than 
 save their souls, and by musing and distracting them 
 too much it incapacitates them, to a certain extent, for 
 a due relish of the solid food which is to be placed 
 before them in the body of the discom^. Many of 
 Dr. Ne^vman's sermons furnish admirable models of 
 this simple and uiiaftected manner of introducing a 
 subject. 
 
 There are, of coui'se, exceptions to this rule. The 
 first is, when ihe preacher or his hearere are already 
 * De Orat. lib. ii. 
 
Introduction of the Discourse. 139 
 
 inspired with elevated sontiments and deep emotions, 
 ■idiich have been called into existence by some great 
 event on which he is about to address them. Such, 
 for example, would be the funeral oration of some 
 illustrious personage, the panegyric of some great 
 saint, or the recurrence of any of the principal festi- 
 vals of the year. On such occasions as these our audi- 
 ence are already filled with the great thoughts which 
 arise instinctively within their breasts, and, hence, if 
 the preacher were to commence his discourse in the 
 plain language and simple manner which befit the ordi- 
 nary sermon, he would not be in accordance with the 
 sentiments and dispositions of his hearers. Always 
 supposing that he is able to master it (and if he be 
 not he will not attempt to use it) these occasions admit, 
 and demand, the employment of the Grand Exordium; 
 that, which, according to Cicero, possesses Ornamen- 
 turn et Dignitatem. 
 
 As the subject which it introduces is great, noble, 
 and impressive, the Grand Exordiimi is distinguished 
 by elevated thoughts, majestic language, and beautiful 
 figures. We have a veiy striking illustration of this 
 sort of exordium in Bossuet's funeral oration for the 
 Queen of England which we give amongst the exam- 
 ples at the end of this section. 
 
 It is only after a deep and serious consideration of 
 his powers that the preacher, and especially the young 
 one, will venture to employ the Grand Exordium. 
 
140 Inteoductiox of the Discourse. 
 
 He will remember that there is but one step between 
 the subHme and the ridiculous. If he aim at the sub- 
 lime without attaining it, he will hardly escape becom- 
 ing ridiculous by his failure. He will remember, too, 
 that in adopting the Grand Exordium he imposes on 
 himself, not merely the necessity of sustaining the same 
 lofty train of thought and majesty of language, but the 
 obligation of increasing in dignity and power as he 
 proceeds in his discourse. Ut semper crescat augfea- 
 turque oralio. Hence, remembering that those very 
 circumstances which will render his succe&s, if he 
 attain it, more glorious, will also render his failure 
 more glaring, the prudent preacher will be verj' slow 
 in attempting the Grand Exordium. 
 
 The second exception is when circumstances demand 
 the employment of the Abrupt Exordium. There are 
 occasions when an audience are moved in the veiy 
 depths of their souls by indignation, grief, or some 
 other violent passion. Were a preacher, under these 
 circumstances, to commence his address in the col- 
 lected manner and the plain style and language of the 
 Simple Exordium, his hearers would turn from him 
 with disgufc^t and impatience. If he venture to address 
 them on such an occasiun, or if duty oblige him to do 
 so, he must throw himself into their circumstances, 
 inflame himself with their excited feelings, and like 
 the war-horse rushing to the fray, plunge at once into 
 the midst of his subject. He uses only the language 
 
Introduction of the Discourse. 141 
 
 of strong passion, that language which is the expres- 
 sion of vehement feeling, of a soul that is beyond the 
 control of evei'}'thing save those deep emotions which 
 move him in such wondrous manner, which display 
 themselves in the tiro of his eye, in the strong bold 
 energy of his l^oaring, in the very roughness of his 
 unchosen words- 
 It is impossible to lay down any rules for this kind 
 of exordium, since it is evident that the man who 
 employs it bona fide, and not as a mere piece of act- 
 ing, is beyond the control of any set iniles, or of any 
 influence save that of the feelings by which he is swayed. 
 Tliere are few occasions on which the Christian orator 
 is called to employ such an introduction to his dis- 
 course ; fewer still on which he should ventm'e to do 
 so. Perhaps the most striking, as well as best known, 
 examples of the Abrupt Exordium are furnished by 
 the opening of Cicero's first and fourth orations against 
 Cataline. 
 
 The only other exception which we need notice is 
 the Exordium by Insinufttion. It sometimes happens 
 that a preacher has to encounter dispositions in his 
 audience which are anything but favourable to him ; 
 or to attack an inveterate prejudice, to dispel a com- 
 mon error, or enter the lists with a skilful and power- 
 ful adverstuy. In these and similar cases, since his 
 subject is almost certain to be unpopular, the orator 
 cannot venture to introduce it at once and without 
 
143 Introduction of the Discourse. 
 
 further preface to his audience. He applies himself 
 in the first place to conciliate their good will and 
 remove their prejudices, to soothe their feelings and 
 calm their anger, to gain possession of their minds and 
 enlist their sympathies, and thus indirectly to prepare 
 the way for the introduction of the obnoxious subject. 
 It is seldom that a Christian preacher has any neces- 
 sity to use this exordium. It is fitly employed in a 
 controversial sermon, whenever it is expedient to preach 
 one ; and in some other circumstances which so rarely 
 occur that, when the}" do, the preacher's common sense 
 will be a better guide to him than any formal rules 
 which we could point out. 
 
 With these exceptions the introduction of a discourse 
 is essentially simple both in composition, style, and 
 delivery. 
 
 4. The exordium must have an essential relation to 
 the subject of the discourse. In other words, it must 
 necessarily lead us to it, and must bear the same rela- 
 tion to the body of the discourse as the human head 
 has to the bod}'^ on which it i^ placed. Those general 
 introductions which will suit one discourse just as well 
 as another are essentially faulty. Without anticipa- 
 ting any material part of the sermon, the exordium 
 should shadow forth the main features of the whole^ 
 so that, after listening to it, the hearer should have a 
 general idea of the speaker's object, and the means by 
 which he proposes to attain his end. 
 
iNTRODUCTIOISr OF THE DISCOURSE. 143 
 
 Hence it follows that the introductiou is to be taken 
 from the very viscera of the subject itself, and on this 
 account Cicero counsels us not to write our introduc- 
 tion until after we have written, or, at least, thoroughly 
 digested the sermon by means of our plan. The rea- 
 son of this is obvious, for if we write our exordium at 
 the very commencement, and before we have thoroughly 
 digested our materials and arranged our plan, how can 
 it possibly shadow forth the main features of our dis- 
 coui-se. In such cases we write, not introductions to 
 suit our sermons, but sermons to suit our introduc- 
 tions. 
 
 By following Cicero's method we can easily deduce 
 our introduction in a tellino; manner. It will bear 
 the same relation to our discourse as the flower does 
 to its stem ; there will be an essential connection 
 between it and the discoui-se which it substantially 
 shadows forth, and to which it essentially leads. 
 Cicero adds on this point, " When I have plamiedanti 
 digested all the materials of my discourse, it is my 
 custom to think, in the last place, of the introduction 
 with which I am to begin. For, if at any time I have 
 endeavoured to invent an introduction first, nothing 
 has ever occurred to me for that purpose, but what 
 was trifling, nugatory, and vulgar." These remarks 
 do not necessarily suppose that the whole of our ser- 
 mon has been written before we compose the exor- 
 dium, but they suppose that it has, at least, been 
 
144 Intkoductiox of the Discourse. 
 
 thoroughly digested and ai-ranged in such a munner 
 as to enable the speaker to shadow foi-th its leading 
 details in his exordium. 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to add that correctness is an 
 essential quality of a good introduction. We have 
 already spoken of the force of first impressions. At 
 the commencement of a sermon his hearers, beinsf as 
 yet unoccupied with his subject or his arguments, 
 diiect all their attention to the style and manner of 
 the speaker ; and, consequently, he must endeavour to 
 make a favourable impression upon them. After any 
 want of modesty, nothing turns an audience against 
 a speaker so easily as slovenliness of style or composi- 
 tion, and carelessness of manner. When they have 
 once become thoroughly warmed by the sulrject, they 
 may overlook many defects in the course of a sermon 
 which, if they occurred at the commencement, would 
 inevital)ly prejudice them against the speaker, and 
 destroy all his chances of success. The introduction 
 is, above all others, that part of a discoui-se in which 
 our hearers, being as yet unmoved and cold, are dis- 
 posed to act the critic. 
 
 To sum up in a few words. With the exception of 
 the exordium ex ahrupto which is subject to no fixed 
 rules, we shall introduce our discourse in some such 
 manner as this. Having quoted our text, we proceed 
 to give some explanation of it. In ordinary discourses, 
 such as those which are preached on common Sundays. 
 
Introduction of the Discourse. 145 
 
 a development of the text, or n brief explanation of 
 the Gospel of the day, is the most usual, and at the 
 same time, the most interesting and becoming intro- 
 duction. We then show its application to the sul)- 
 ject of our discourse, or, rather, we deduce the sulyect 
 from this explanation. Descending from general ideas 
 or principles, to more particular ones, we throw out, 
 or indicate, the germs of our plan. Developing these 
 as occasion may require, but always without anticipa- 
 ting any material part of our discourse, we thus pre- 
 pare the way for the announcement of the proposition 
 with its division, and this in such order, that our pro- 
 position naturally flows and is essentially deduced from 
 our introduction, whilst, at the same time, it embodies 
 ill its fruitful simplicity the subject matter of the whole 
 discourse in the manner we have described when treat- 
 ing of " unity." 
 
 EXAMPLES. 
 
 Simple Exordiums — Dr. JVeivman. 
 
 " There are two especial manifestations under which 
 divine grace is vouchsafed to us, whether in Scripture 
 or in the history of the Church ; whether in Saints, 
 or in pei-sons of holy and religious life ; the two are 
 even found among our Lord's Apostles, being repre- 
 sented l^y the two foremost of that favoured company, 
 
 St. Peter and St. John. St. John is the Saint of 
 10 
 
146 Introduction of the Discourse. 
 
 purity, and St. Peter is the Saint of love. Not that 
 love and purit}^ can ever be separated ; not as if a 
 Saint had not all viilnes in him at once ; not as if 
 St. Peter were not pure as well as loving, and St. 
 John loving, for all he was so pure. The graces of 
 the Spirit cannot be separated from each other ; one 
 implies the rest ; what is love but a delight in God, a 
 devotion to Him, a surrender of the whole self to him? 
 AVhat is impurity, on the other hand, but the taking 
 something of this world, something sinful, for the 
 oliject of our affections, instead of God? What is it 
 but a deliberate turning away from the Creator to the 
 creature, and seeking pleasure in the shadow of death, 
 not in the all-blissful Presence of light and holiness ? 
 The impure then do not love God ; and those who are 
 without love of God cannot really be pure ; in some 
 object we must fix our affections, we must find plea- 
 sure ; and we cannot find pleasure ui two objects, as 
 we cannot serve two masters, which are contrar}^ to 
 each other. Much less can a Saint be deficient either 
 in purity or in love, for the flame of love will not be 
 bright unless the substance which feeds it be pure and 
 unadulterate. 
 
 " Yet, certain as this is, it is certain also that the 
 spiritual works of God show differently from each other 
 to our eyes, and that they display, in their character and 
 their history, some this virtue more than others, and 
 some that. In other words, it pleases the Giver of 
 
Introduction of the Discoukse. 147 
 
 grace to endue them specially with certam gifts, for 
 His glory, which light up and beautify one particular 
 portion or department of their soul, so as to cast their 
 other excellencies into the shade. And then this grace 
 becomes their characteristic, and we put it first in om- 
 tlioughts of them, and consider what they have besides 
 as included in it, or dependent upon it, and speak of 
 them as if they had not the rest, though they really 
 have them ; and w^e give them some title or descrij)- 
 tion taken from that particular gi-ace which is so 
 emphatically theirs. And in this way we may speak, 
 as I intend to do in ^vhat I am going to say, of two 
 chief classes of Saints, whose emblems are the lily and 
 the rose, who are bright with angelic purity, or who 
 burn with divine love." — Purity and love. 
 
 " I am going to ask you a question, my dear brethren, 
 so trite, and therefore so uninteresting at first sight, 
 that you may wonder why I put it, and may object 
 that it will be difiicult to fix the mind on it, and may 
 anticipate that nothing profital3le can be made of it. 
 It is this :-^' Why were you sent into the world ?' 
 Yet, after all, it is perhaps a thought more obvious 
 than it is common, more easy than it is familiar ; I 
 mean, it ought to come into your minds, but it does 
 not, you never had more than a distant acquaintance 
 with it, though that sort of acquaintance you have had 
 
148 Inteoductiok of the Discouese. 
 
 ^vith it for many years. Nay, once or twice perhaps 
 you have been thrown across it somewhat intimately, 
 for a short season, but this was an accident which did 
 not last. There are those who recollect the first time, 
 as it would seem, when it came home to them. They 
 Avere but little children, and they were by themselves, 
 and they spontaneously asked themselves, or rather 
 God spake in them, ' Why am I here ? how came I 
 here ? who brought me here ? what am I to do here?' 
 Perhaps it was the first act of reason, the beginning 
 of their real responsibility, the commencement of their 
 trial ; perhaps from that day they may date their 
 capacity, their awfnl power, of choosing between good 
 and evil, and of committing mortal sin. And so, as 
 life goes on, the thought comes vividly, from time to 
 time, for a short season across the conscience ; whether 
 in illness or in some anxiety, or some season of solitude, 
 or on hearing some preacher, or reading some religious 
 work. A vivid feeling comes over them of the vanity 
 and unprofitableness of the world, and then the ques- 
 tion recurs, ' Why then am I sent into it ?' " — God's 
 will the end of life. 
 
 Exordium by Insinuation — Demosthenes. 
 
 "Let me begin, men of Athens, by imploring all 
 the Heavenly Powers that the same kindly sentiments 
 which I have throughout my public life cherished 
 towards this country and each of you, may now by 
 
lNTROI>UOTIOJf OF THE DISCOURSE. 149 
 
 30U be ^liown towards me iu the present contest 1 
 Next I beseech them to grant, what so nearly concerns 
 yolu-selves, your religion, and your reputation, that 
 you may not take counsel of my adversary touching 
 the coui-se to be pursued in hearing my defence — that 
 ■would indeed be hard ! — but that you may regard the 
 laws and your oaths, w^hich, among so many other 
 just rules, lay down this — that both sides shall be 
 equally heard ! Nor does this merely import that no 
 one shall be prejudged, or that equal favour shall be 
 extended in both parties; it also implies that each an- 
 tagonist shall have free scope in pursuing whatever 
 method and line of defence he may be pleased to pre- 
 fer. Upon the present occasion, Athenians, as in 
 many things, so especially in two of great moment, 
 ^Eschines has the advantage of me. One is that we 
 have not the same interests at stake; it is by no means 
 the same thing for me to forfeit your esteem, and for 
 him to fail in his Impeachment. That to me indeed — 
 but I w^ould fain not take so gloomy a view* in the 
 outset, — ^yet he certainly brings his charge an unpro- 
 voked volunteer. My other disadvantage is that all 
 men are naturally prone to take pleasure iu listening 
 to invective and accusation, and to be disgusted with 
 those who praise themselves. To him, therefore, falls 
 the part which ministers to your gratification, while 
 to me there is only left that which, I may almost say, 
 is distasteful to all. And yet, if from such apprehen- 
 
150 Intkoduction of the Discourse. 
 
 sions I were to avoid the subject of my own conduct, 
 I should appear to be without defence against this 
 charge, and without proof that my honoui-s were well 
 earned; although I cannot go over the ground of my 
 counsels and my measures, without necessaril}^ speak- 
 ing oftentimes of ni3"self. This, therefore, I shall en- 
 deavour to do with all moderation; while the blame 
 of my dwelling on topics indispensable to my defence 
 must justly rest on him who has instituted an Im- 
 peachment of such a kind. 
 
 " But at least I think I may reckon upon all of 
 you, my judges, admitting that this question concerns 
 me as much as Ctesiphon, and justifies on my part an 
 equal anxiety; for to be stripped of any possession, 
 and more esj)ecially by an enemy, is grievous and 
 haid to bear; but, worst of all, thus to lose your con- 
 fidence and esteem, of all possessions the most pre- 
 cious. Such, then, being my stake in this cause, I 
 conjure and implore of you all alike, to give ear to 
 my defence against these charges with that impar- 
 tiality ^vhich the laws enjoin — those laws first given 
 by Solon, one so friendly towards you as he was to all 
 popular rights — laws which he fixed, not only l)y en- 
 graving them on brazen tallies, but l)y the sanction of 
 the oaths you take when sitting in judgment; not, I 
 verily believe, from any distrust of you, but because 
 he perceived that the accuser being armed with the 
 advantage of speaking first, the accused can have no 
 
Introduction of tiik Discourse. 151 
 
 chance of resistinir li'-s charges and invectives, unless 
 every one of you, his judges, keeping the oath sworn 
 before God, shall receive with favour the defence 
 which comes la^jt, and lending an equal and a like ear 
 to both parties, shall thus make up your mind upon 
 the whole of the case. 
 
 " But on this day when I am about to render up 
 an account, as it should seem, of my whole life, both 
 public and private, I would again, as in the outset, 
 implore the gods, and in your presence pour out to 
 them my supplication, first to grant me at your hands 
 the same kindness in this conflict which I have ever 
 borne towards our country and all of 3 ou; and next, 
 that they may incline you all to pronounce upon this 
 Impeachment the decision which shall best consult 
 the gloiy of the state and the religious obligations of 
 each individual judge." — The Crown. 
 
 Grand Exordivm — Bossuel. 
 " He who reigns in the heavens, and from whom all 
 empires spring, to whom belongeth gloiy, majesty, 
 and independence; He alone glories in giving laws to 
 kings, and in giving them, too, when it plciiseth Him, 
 great and terrible admonition. Whether He exalts 
 the throne, or Avhether He humbles it, whether he 
 imparts His power to princes or withdraws it to Him- 
 self, leaving them only their own weakness, He ever 
 leaches them their duty with a supremacy worthy of 
 
152 Intkoduction of the Discourse. 
 
 the Godhead; for, in givhig them His poAver, He 
 commands them to use it as He does Himself, for the 
 good of the world, and He teaches them by with- 
 drawing it, that all their majesty is borrowed, and, 
 though seated on the throne, that they are still under 
 His hand and subject to His sovereign dominion. It 
 is thus that He instructs princes, not only by the ora- 
 cles of his word, but also by facts and examples. Et 
 nunc Reges intelligite, erudimini qui judicatis terram. 
 " Christians, whom the memoiy of a great queen, 
 daughter, wife, and mother of mighty kings, and 
 sovereign of three kingdoms, calls together to this 
 sad ceremony, this discouise will place before you one 
 of those awful examples which exhibit to the eyes of 
 the world the fulness of its vanity. You will see in 
 the life of one individual the extremes of human for- 
 tune — measureless felicity and measureless woe — a 
 long and peaceful possession of one of the brightest 
 crowns of the world — the head that wore it encircled 
 with all the glory that power and greatness can con- 
 fer, and then exposed to all the outrages of fortune. 
 The good cause at tirst attended with success; and then 
 sudden reverse, unheard of change, — rebellion, for a 
 time restrained, finally triumphant; no check to licen- 
 tiousness; the laws trampled under foot; the majesty 
 of the throne sjicrilegiously profaned; usurpation and 
 tyranny assuming the name of liberty; a fugitive 
 queen finding no refuge in three kingdoms, and for 
 
Introduction of the Discourse. 153 
 
 ■whom her native land is but a phice of exile; nine 
 times the wandering ocean traversed by a princess 
 despite the fury of the tempest, and with such a 
 change of state and circumstances; a throne ignomiii- 
 iously overturned and miraculously restored. These 
 are the lessons which God gives to kings, and thus 
 does He to show to the world the nothingness of its 
 pomps and of its gi*eatness. If Avords will fail, if hu- 
 man language will not furnish expression for a subject 
 so vast and so sublime, facts must speak — the heart of 
 a great queen, once elated by a long continuance of 
 prosperity, then suddenly plunged into the deepest 
 abyss of soitow, will raise loud its voice — and if it is 
 not permitted to subjects to give lessons to the rulers 
 of nations, a King lends me his words to sa}- — ' Hear, 
 you great of the earth; be instructed, arbiters of the 
 Avorld.' " — Funeral Oration on the Queen of Eng- 
 land. 
 
 CRITICAL EXAMINATION OF TWO CELEBRATED EXOR- 
 DIUMS. 
 
 In order to render this matter more clear, and to 
 bring the practical bearing of the rules laid down 
 more sensibly home to the student, it may be useful to 
 present him with a critical examination of some ex- 
 ordiums which are considered master-pieces of their 
 kind. We will select two examples for this purpose. 
 
 Our firs't example, which is sufficiently remarkable 
 
154 IXTRODUCTIOJif OF THE DiSCOUESE. 
 
 ill itself, and sufficiently well-known, is an exordium 
 by Biyda}'ne, a celebrated French preacher of the 
 last century. After acquiring considerable reputation 
 in the provinces he came to Paris in 1751. He made 
 his first appearance in the Church of St. Sulpice, 
 whither his reputation had attracted an immense au- 
 dience, including ecclesiastics of the highest dignitj", 
 and persons of the fii-st rank both in Church and 
 State. jMaury, who wjis an enthusiastic admirer of 
 the new preacher, declares that he opened his first dis- 
 course, delivered in presence of the august assembly 
 who croAvded round his pulpit in the following words. 
 We need not remark how much the lanijuao-e neces- 
 saiih^ loses by translation : — 
 
 Uxordium hy Brydayne. 
 '' At the sight of an auditoiy so new to me, me- 
 thiiiks, 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. Never- 
 theless, I experience, to-day, a feeling veiy difi'erent. 
 And, if I be cast down, suspect me not of being de- 
 pressed by the wretched mieasiness occasioned by van- 
 ity, as if I were accustomed to preach myself. God 
 forbid that a minister of Heaven should ever suppose 
 he needed an excuse with }'ou ! for, whoever ye may 
 Ije, ye are all of you sinnei-s like myself. It is before 
 
Introduction of the Discourse. 155 
 
 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 rigoius of penance to the unfortu- 
 nate 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 of suflering humanity, or sin- 
 nei-s daring and hardened. Ah ! it is here only where 
 the sacred word should be made to resound with all 
 the force of its thmider; 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 neceasity of 
 salvation, the certainty of death, the uncertaint}^ of 
 that hour, so terrifying to you, final impenitence, the 
 last 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 resei'ved for you alone. Ah ! 
 what need have I of your condenmation, which, per- 
 
156 Introduction of the Discourse. 
 
 hajDS, 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 Avith a detestation of your 
 past iniquities, and shedding tears of sorrow and re- 
 pentance, you will, then, throw yourselves into my 
 arms; and by this remorse, 3'ou will prove that I am 
 sufficiently eloquent." 
 
 Without disputing for an instant the force and 
 vigour of the language in which it is expressed, and 
 without undertaking to sa}' how far it may claim to 
 be considered an Abrupt Exordium, and, as such, 
 above all technical restraints, it appears to us that, on 
 the one hand, this Introduction of Brydayne's is op- 
 posed to all the rules laid down, and to all the condi- 
 tions required by rhetoricians, in the composition of 
 an ordinary exordium; whilst on the other, it is not 
 easy to see what there was in the circumstances to 
 place the preacher beyond the control of these rules 
 and conditions. 
 
 In the first place, this exordium seems to offend 
 against modesty. The preacher speaks a great deal 
 too frequently of himself. / am not cast down by 
 miserable vanity — 1 am not accustomed to preach my- 
 self — / hold your sentence in my hand — Tremble, 
 then, before me — and a great deal more to the same 
 effect. 
 
 Secondly, it is not easy to see how the language 
 
Introduction of the Discourse. 157 
 
 employed by the })reacher can be considered strictly 
 true. Until now, he says, / have proclaimed the 
 'righteousness of the Most High in churcJies covered 
 icith thatch ; whilst the fact was that he had preached 
 in most of the laro-e cities of the kinirdom. / have 
 declared to the good inhabitants of the country the 
 most awful truths of my religion. Unhapjjy man ! 
 what have I done ? I have made sad the poor, the 
 best friends of God ! In other words, up to this 
 time he had only preached to saints ! But was this 
 true; and, if it were, how was it to be reconciled with 
 his own words that he had had a long experience of 
 the mercies of God ? Surely, these mercies were not 
 contined to the great ! Here my eyes fall only itjjon 
 the great, the rich, the oppressors of suffering human- 
 ity, upon sinners daring and hardened I How could 
 a preacher address such terms to any Christian audi- 
 ence, much less to one whom he then addressed for 
 the fii-st time, and, of whom, consequently, he could 
 know but little ? The terrible epithets, oppressors of 
 suffering humanity, sinners daring and hardened, etc., 
 were hurled upon the most distinguished citizens of 
 Paris, as if they alone meiited them. They might, 
 perhaps, l)e deserving enough of them, but it may well 
 be doubted whether they were much moi"e depraved, 
 or much more hardened, than the citizens of Lyons, 
 of Marseilles, and of those other large towns in which 
 the preacher had already given missions : and, if they 
 
158 Inteoduction of the Discouese. 
 
 were not, these assertions of Brydayne's seem to be 
 neither true in fact, nor couiined within those tem- 
 perate limits to which even the most ardent zeal must 
 he subject. 
 
 Thirdly, if one of the principal ends of the exordium 
 be to render our hearers, benevolos, attentos, et dociles, 
 it is not easy to see how this end would be gained by 
 such an introduction as that which we have given. 
 An unknown, and up to that period, comparatively 
 undistinguished preacher, would scarcely render au 
 audience whom he then addressed for the first time 
 well-disposed towards him, or docile to his teaching, 
 by addressing them as oppressors of suffering humanity, 
 or hardened or obdurate sinners, more especially if 
 that audience were composed of ecclesiastics of high 
 dignity, and of laymen moving in the first ranks of 
 life. It is not likely that such an audience, assembled 
 on such an occasion, w^ere so utterly depraved as they 
 were represented to be ; or, that, without exception, 
 they deserved to be included in those terrible anathe- 
 mas which were hurled upon them. But, even sup- 
 posing them, ecclesiastic and layman, to be thus com- 
 pletely lost to all sense of religion and dut}^, would 
 you take the most effectual means of winning them 
 back by addressing them in such terms as those which 
 Brydayne is represented to have used ? Would St. 
 Francis of Sales, or St. Vincent of Paul, have addressed 
 them in these terms ? We venture to think not : and, 
 
Introduction" of the Discourse. 159 
 
 tbei-efore, Avliil.st we freely admit the beauty and the 
 vigorous strength of the hnio-nao^e in which it is 
 couched, we are far from presenting this exordium to 
 the student as a model which he may wisely imitate. 
 In fact, so improbable and contraiy to good taste does 
 this exordium seem to some, that M. Hamon, whose 
 judgment we willingly follow in all matters relating 
 to Sacred Eloquence, inclines to the ojainion that P. 
 Brydayne never delivered it at all, and that it is 
 merely the fruit of the imagination of Maury. Judg- 
 ing this composition on its own intrinsic merits and 
 fitness, such an opinion would appear most reasonable. 
 On the other hand, however, Maury declares that he 
 heard it delivered, and it is generally received as the 
 production of him to whom it is attributed ; neither 
 are those wanting who, looking at it probabl}^ more 
 as a piece of composition than as an exordium, bestow 
 the highest commendations on it. 
 
 Our second example is the exordium of the Funeral 
 Oration which Bossuet pronounced on Henrietta Anne 
 of England, Duchess of Oi'leans. We make no apology 
 for presenting this magnificent specimen of Sacred elo- 
 quence to the clerical reader in its entiret}'. Nothing 
 could be more chaste and beautiful than the language 
 in which it is expressed, nothing more skilful than the 
 manner in which, without anticipating any material 
 part of the discourse, this exordium shadows forth its 
 main features, and embodies them in the Proposition; 
 
160 Intkoductiox of the Discouese. 
 
 tJtat all is vain in man if we consider what he gives 
 to the world ; that all is important if we consider ivhai 
 he Gives to God ; the nothingness and the greatness 
 of man. 
 
 Exordium by Bossuet. 
 
 " I was then, still destined to render this funeral 
 duty to the most high and most puissant princess, 
 Henrietta Anne of England, Duchess of Orleans. She, 
 whom I had seen so attentive, while I rendered the 
 same duty to the Queen, her mother, was to be, so 
 soon after, the subject of a similar disconrse, and my 
 sad voice was resei"ved for this deplorable ministiy. 
 O vanity ! O nothingness ! O mortals ! ignoi-ant of 
 their destinies ! Wonld she have bel ieved it six montlis 
 since ? And yon, sirs, would you have thought, while 
 she shed so many tears in this place, that she was so 
 soon to re-assemble you there, to weep over herself? 
 Princess, woilhy ol)ject of the admiration of two great 
 king'doms, was it not enouo-li that Enalund mourned 
 your absence, without being yet reduced to mourn 
 your death ? And France, M^ho saw you again with 
 so much jo}-, environed with a new renown, had she 
 now no other pomjDS, no other triumphs for you, on 
 your return from that famous voyage, whence you had 
 lirought back so much glory, and hopes so fair ? 
 ' Vanity of vanities, and all is vanity.' It is the only 
 word which remains to me ; it is the only reflection, 
 
Introduction of the Discourse. 161 
 
 which, in so strange an occuiTence, a grief so just and 
 so sensible permits me to use. Neither have I searched 
 the sacred volumes, to find in them a text which I couhl 
 apply to this princess. I have taken without study, and 
 without choice, the first words which Ecclesiastes pre- 
 sents to me, in which, although vanity has been so often 
 named, it still appeal's to me not sufficiently so for the 
 design which I propose to myself. I wish, in a single 
 misfortune, to deplore all the calamities of the human 
 race ; and, in a single death, to show the death and the 
 nothingness of all human grandeurs. This text which 
 suits all the conditions and all the events of our life, 
 by a particular reason becomes suitable to my unhappy 
 subject ; for never have the vanities of the earth been 
 so clearly exposed, nor so loftily confounded. No ; 
 after what "vve have just seen, health is but a name, 
 life is but a dream, glory is but a phantom, accom- 
 plishments and pleasures but dangerous amusements : 
 all is vain in us, except the sincei'e avowal which we 
 make of our vanities Ijefore God, and the settled judg- 
 ment which makes us despise all that we are. 
 
 " But do I speak the truth ? Man, whom God has 
 made to His image, is he only a shade ? That, which 
 Jesus Christ has come from heaven to seek on earth ; 
 that, which He has thought it no degradation to pur- 
 chase with all His blood, is it merely a nothing ? Let 
 us recognize our error. Doubtless, this sad spectacle 
 
 of human vanities imposed upon us, and the puljlic 
 11 
 
162 Inteoduction of the Discourse. 
 
 hope suddenly frustrated by the death of this princess, 
 impelled us to far. Man must not be permitted alto- 
 gether to dispose himself; lest, believing, with the 
 impious, that life is but a game in which hazard reigns, 
 he follow, without rule and without guidance, the will 
 of his blind desires. It is, therefore, Ecclesiastes, after 
 having commenced his divine work by the Avords which 
 I have recited, after having tilled all its pages with 
 the contempt of himian things, wishes at last to show 
 to man something more solid, and concludes his whole 
 discoiu-se by saying, ' Fear God iwid keep His com- 
 mandments ; for that is the whole man ; and know 
 that the Lord will bring unto judgment all things that 
 are done, whether good or evil.' Thus all is vain in man, 
 if we regard what he gives to the world ; but on the 
 contraiy, all is important, if we consider what he owe to 
 God. Once moie, all is vain in man, if we regard the 
 coiu'se of his mortal life ; but all is precious, all is im- 
 portant, if we contemplate the term at which it ends, 
 and the account which he must i-ender of it. Let us 
 meditate, then, to-day, in sight of this altar and of this 
 tomb, the first and the last words of Ecclesiastes ; the 
 one which shows the nothingness of man ; the othex 
 which establishes his greatness. Let this tomb con- 
 vince us of our nothingness, provided that this altar, 
 on which a victim of so great a price is daily offered 
 for us, at the same time instructs us in our dignity." 
 
Introduction of the Discourse. 163 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 PROPOSITIOX, ITS NATURE AND OBJECT DIVISION, ITS 
 
 ADVANTAGES, DISADVANTAGES, AND PRINCIPAL 
 RULES. 
 
 Having aimounced our text and duly explained it, 
 we, as we have already remarked, deduce from this 
 exordium or explanation the great leading truth which 
 is to form the subject of our discourse, and this truth 
 we embody and announce in the Proposition, which 
 forms the third point to be considered mider the gen- 
 eral head of an Introduction. 
 
 The Proposition, which is not to be confounded with 
 the end of the discoui"se, is nothing more than a brief 
 exposition of the whole subject to be treated. We have 
 already glanced at some of its qualities when treating 
 of " Unity." It flows naturally, and as a necessary 
 consequence, from what has preceded it ; is expressed 
 in a few words ; and must be plain, clear, and precise, 
 stating the subject, the whole subject, and nothing but 
 the subject. It may be announced simply and in a few 
 words, as, for example. Death is certain : Mortal Sin 
 is the greatest evil in the world ; or, as is more com- 
 monly the case, it may be developed and distributed 
 into its component parts ; for, as we have said, althougli 
 the truth to be proved is essentiall}'^ one, it may be 
 established in various ways, and from various points 
 
1G4 Introduction of the Discourse. 
 
 of view. When this is the case we have Division, 
 which may be described as a partition or development 
 of the proposition. (For an example of Division or 
 developed proposition, see page 101). 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to remark that there is con- 
 siderable controversy amongst rhetoricians concerning 
 the use of Division. As is well remarked by an emi- 
 nent authority, the dispute is not, whether there should 
 be division in a discourse, but whether that division 
 sliould be formally announced. No discourse can at- 
 tain its end without order, without a clear and methodi- 
 cal distribution of its suljject matter, and this neces- 
 sarily supposes division. It supposes that the speaker 
 has arranged everything in its proper place, that every 
 argument, example, or development is where it ought 
 to be, and this is nothing but division. Still, it is one 
 thing to say that the preacher must have his matter 
 thus arranged and parceled out, another to assert that 
 he is bound to announce this partition in its naked de- 
 tails to his audience. Hence the controversy. 
 
 Whilst many writers are opposed to any formal 
 division in a sermon there are those who fly to the 
 other extreme. The great sermon writers, French and 
 English, of the last century are formal in the highest 
 degree. A good deal, perhaps too much,. o£ their 
 spirit has come down to our own times, and we heai\ 
 " We will now consider in the first point ... in 
 the second point . . . in the third point "... 
 
Introduction of the Discourse. 165 
 
 much ofteiier than is pleasant to listen to. There are 
 occasions when a Formal Division is altogether ont 
 of place, as, for example, when a discourse is short, 
 when it merely consists of one point, when it is princi- 
 pally of an exhortatory character. In this latter case, 
 as the speaker seeks to gain his end by appealing to 
 the feelings of his hearers, a Formal Division would 
 be woi-se than useless, since it is of its very nature stiff, 
 precise, and, to a ceilain extent, destructive of elo- 
 quence in the real sense of the word. It is equally in- 
 appropriate when it is advisable or necessar}^ for the 
 speaker to conceal his purpose from his audience. 
 
 With these exceptions, in all sermons which are 
 partly argumentative and partly exhortatory, as is the 
 case with ordinary discoui-ses, a division is extremely 
 useful. We have said a division, because all the ad- 
 vantages of the Formal Division may be secured by 
 adopting the less formal or concealed method, whilst 
 the intolerable stiffness and apparent pedantry of the 
 method which deals out its fii'st point, its second point, 
 its third point, and perhaps a half a dozen more, with 
 such scrupulous exactness and uninviting plaimiess, are 
 thus avoided. 
 
 We refer the student to the plan at page 101, in 
 which we think the division is as formal as it ou^ht 
 ever to be except in the case of a purely dogmatic, or, 
 still more, a controvei-sial sermon. The student will 
 see at a glance that, l)y putting the division in this 
 
1G6 Inteoduction of the Discoukse. 
 
 form, " whether we consider the sentiments of man at 
 the hour of death, the actions of the saints, or the 
 views of God," we escape the stiffness of the Formal 
 method which would say, " We will now consider in 
 the first point the sentiments of man at the hour of 
 death, we will consider in the second point the actions 
 of the saints, and, thirdly, we will consider the views 
 of God," whilst the Division is just as good, and just 
 as useful for all practical purposes. 
 
 A clearly defined division or distribution of matter 
 possesses many advantages. In the first place it is 
 most useful to the preacher himself. It aids his 
 memory, as well as helps him in his composition. 
 There is no genius so elevated as not to stand in need 
 of a restraining hand. Whatever keeps the preacher 
 from wandering away from his subject is to be most 
 highly prized by him, and he is never greater and 
 more successful in his efibrls than when he advances 
 with order that is governed by reason and good taste. 
 An orderly distribution of matter is not less useful to 
 an audience. It sheds a wonderful light upon the en- 
 tire discourse. It separates the leading questions from 
 those incidental ones, the introduction of which often 
 only serves to render a seraion obscure, whilst it is 
 equally useful in giving due prominence to those 
 parent ideas from which all the details must spring. 
 It refreshes the mind by the repose which it atfords 
 it, and thus paves the way for renewed attention. It 
 
Introductiois' of the Discourse. 167 
 
 excites the interest of the lienrer ))}■ the desire with 
 which it inspires him of seeing liovv the division will 
 he Avorked out. In line, saj's St. Charles, " experi- 
 ence teaches us that our audience conceive a sermon 
 more i-eadily, and retain it more firmly, Avhen it is ar- 
 ranged in an orderly manner. Knowing whither the 
 preacher wishes to lead them, thc}'^ follow him with 
 more pleasure, and draw greater fruit from his dis- 
 coui-se." 
 
 The principal objection to the Division is, that it 
 interferes Avith the force of the appeal to the passions 
 which is, after all, the great point on which the suc- 
 cess of the entire discourse turns, inasnmch an this is 
 the causa efficax of pei'suasion. 
 
 This objection is in a limited sense valid, but only 
 in a limited sense. 
 
 Most discoui"ses are of a mixed character, partly 
 argumentative, partly exhortatoiy; whilst, in all of 
 them, the proper place for the appeal to the passions 
 is in the peroration or conclusion. Now, an orderly 
 aiTangement or division of niatter in the argumenta- 
 tive part, or body of the discourse, hy no means di- 
 minishes the effect of the appeal to the passions in the 
 peroration; neither does it prevent the same appeal 
 from being made with much force and power at the 
 conclusion of each leading argument, duriug the 
 sermon. 
 
 On the contraiy, the division is of positive advan- 
 
168 Inteoduction" of the Discouese. 
 
 tiige in preparing the way for this appeal to the pas- 
 sions; since, by imparting order, reason, and sound 
 logical sequence to the discourse, it helps to convince 
 our audience that they are acting like reasonable men 
 in surrendering themselves captive to the preacher's 
 powers of persuasion; that they are not the victims 
 of a momentary and empty enthusiasm, which is as 
 unworthy of him w^ho endeavours to excite it, without 
 duly preparing the minds of his hearei-s for it, as it is 
 profitless aud unheeded by those who abandon them- 
 selves to it for the moment that it lasts; but who 
 never think of putting into practice the impulses with 
 which it may inspire them. 
 
 It now remains for us to indicate briefly some of 
 the principal qualities of a good division. 
 
 In the first place it is evident that it ought to be 
 clear. Our only object in employing it at all is to 
 impart clearness to our subject, and, of coui'se, we 
 shall scarcely succeed in this object if our division it- 
 self be confused and obscure. Our division, without 
 falling into the extreme of absurd formality, ought to 
 l>e conceived in terms so clear and precise, and ought 
 to throw such a light upon the substantial distri]:)ution 
 of our matter, that our audience may seize it without 
 difficulty, and retain it without effoil;. 
 
 2. The division ought to be just : that is to say, it 
 ought to embrace the whole subject, neither more nor 
 less; one part ought not to trench upon another, and 
 
Introduction of the Discourse. 109 
 
 the various parts ought to have a necessary relation to 
 the whole, so as to produce the unity whence springs 
 that perfect proportion which is at once so pleasing 
 and so just. As far as possible, one point ougiit to 
 be, so to speak, a stepping-stone to the next, whicli 
 thus will be presented to our audience with all the 
 additional weight and force which it derives from 
 what has g-one before; whilst the interest of the whole 
 discourse will be continually increasing : Ut augeatur 
 semper, et increscat oralio. We must take care to 
 follow the order of nature, beginning with the sim- 
 plest points, and gradually leading our audience from 
 the magis notum to the minus notmn, in logical as 
 well as oratorical order and sequence. If the various 
 divisions be not clearly defined and marked out, if 
 one member run into another, so that the preacher is 
 continually obliged to turn back and resume argu- 
 ments or points of his discourse which he has already 
 treated, he will quickly become involved in inextrica- 
 ble confusion, whilst his audience will turn away from 
 him in disofust at havino^ the same ideas thus thrust 
 upon them again and again until they are weary of 
 them. 
 
 It is certain that our division will be just in pro- 
 portion as it is natural. Hence, it is impossible for a 
 preacher to lay down fixed laws for himself, and say I 
 will always have three points or four points, as the 
 case may be. We must assiduously study to discover 
 
170 Introduction of the Discourse. 
 
 iuto what divisions our subject most naturally resolves 
 itself and adopt them; with a firm belief that, as they 
 are the mast natural, so will they be the most just 
 and the most successful. 
 
 3. Our division, though fruitful, must be brief. 
 The terms in which our partitions are expressed should 
 be concise, not containing a single word which is not 
 required for the enunciation of the great truth laid 
 down in our proposition, with the division or paitition 
 which may be necessaiy, and which our experience 
 and good taste will point out to us. 
 
 Not only must the terms in which they are ex- 
 pressed be clear and concise, but the divisions or 
 points of our discourse must be few. If they be too 
 numerous, four or five for example, it will be impossi- 
 l:)le to develop them thoroughly within the limits of 
 any ordinary discourse, and nothing is more indiscreet 
 and destructive of the end we have in view, than any 
 undue demand upon the time or attention of our hear- 
 ers. As an ordinary rule long sermons are certain to 
 be failures. 
 
 The above remarks may be applied, a fortiori, to 
 subdivisions. However much they may have been 
 employed in other times, the spirit of our age, and 
 the practice of our pulpit, are against their use. 
 They may be in their proper place in a logical treatise, 
 l)ut they render a sermon intolerably dry and hard, 
 whilst they impose an unbearable tax upon the memory 
 
Introduction of the Discourse. 171 
 
 of an audience. InsteatI of elevating and adding dig- 
 nity to it, they weaken a sul)ject immeasurably; in- 
 stead of throwing light upon it, they suiTOund it with 
 the densest obscurity, and produce tliose evil results 
 which it is the very purpose of the division to meet. 
 •' III eamdem ohsciiriiatem rncidnnt contra quam par- 
 titio iiiventa est" * says Quintilian. Sul:)divisions, at 
 all events to any extent, take away all the force and 
 majesty of a discoui-se. To u,^e a homely phrase, 
 they fritter it away to nothing; and, without any 
 commensurate result, by their long-drawn conclusions 
 and finely-spun distinctions, suck all the life-juice out 
 of those two or three strong and vigorous leading- 
 members of his discourse, which, if the preacher had 
 been content to employ them in their native rugged- 
 ness and undiminished strength, would have been so 
 powerful and efficacious in his hands. 
 
 To say that a division must be brief is almost the 
 same as to say that it must he sv)ij)Ie. The more sim- 
 ple it is the more perfect it is, and true genius is 
 shown, not in inventing extraordinary plans and split- 
 ting a subject into innumerable divisions and subdi- 
 N'isions, but in working out and developing a simple 
 plan; producing a whole gi'aud in its unity, and beau- 
 tiful in its simplicity, from a design which shall \vd\e 
 that same unit}' and simplicity for its characteristic 
 qualities. 
 
 * Lib. iv. 
 
172 Introduction of the Discourse. 
 
 4. The division must be practical. The cud of all 
 our preaching is to make men better, by inducing 
 them to practice virtue and avoid vice. Salvation is 
 to be attained, not by belief but by practice; and, 
 hence, in every sermon the preacher naturally aims at 
 some practical result to be produced upon the souls 
 of his hearers. The division of a discourse, therefore, 
 ought to embrace that which is to be done, or that 
 which is to be avoided; so that, by merely listening 
 to it, the audience perceive, at least in a general way, 
 the practical fruit which they are to draw from the 
 sermon. 
 
 Sometimes we may deduce the division of our mat- 
 ter from Holy Writ, and this, of course, is the highest 
 souice to which we can go, because we thus speak 
 with the authority of God Himself, and proceed ac- 
 cording to the order which He Himself has marked 
 out. Finally, we may divide oin- subject either as its 
 very nature, or our own experience or taste, may sug- 
 gest to us as most pleasing, or useful for our end. 
 
 In order to aid the young preacher, we will now 
 give him a few examples of the most simple and com- 
 mon divisions which are made of those ordinary sub- 
 jects which he will most frequently be called to treat. 
 
Introduction of the Discourse. 
 
 173 
 
 The End 
 Man. 
 
 Siu . 
 
 of 
 
 The divine Per- 
 I'ectious : Omni- 
 potence, Sanc- 
 tity, "Wisdom, 
 Goodness, Mer- 
 c\-,.Iustice, etc., 
 of God. 
 
 The benefits 
 of God : Provi- 
 dence, Incarna- 
 tion, Redemp- 
 tion, Grace, 
 Eucharist, Con- 
 fession, etc. 
 
 Death . 
 
 EXAMPLES. 
 (1.) "What is the end of man"? (•^.) Is man 
 bound to attain his end? (3.) By what means is 
 he to attain it 1 
 
 (1.) AVhat is mortal sin ? (2.) What are its ef- 
 fects in rejrard to God. angels, and men ? (3.) Its 
 remedies in regard to past and future siu. 
 
 (1.) God is everywhere present. ('2.) The con- 
 sequences which How irom this truth. 
 Or, 
 
 (1.) The omnipotence of God is a powerful mo- 
 tive why we should avoid siu. (2.) A powerful 
 means of arriving at perfection in a short time. 
 
 Or (BOURDALOUK), 
 
 (1.) God has an essential dominion over us 
 which we are bound to acknowledge by a sincere 
 oblation of ourselves. 
 
 (•2.) A universal dominion which we are boun(' 
 to acknowledge by an entire oblation of ourselves. 
 
 (3.) An eternal dominion which we are bound 
 to acknt)wledge by a prompt oblation of t)urselves. 
 Or (BossuetV 
 
 (1.) The glory of God is manifested in the con- 
 version of the shmer. (2.) His mercy in the 
 pardon of the sinner. (3 ) His justice in the im- 
 position of penance. 
 
 (1.) The greatness of the benefit viewed in 
 itself, in him who bestows it, and him who re- 
 ceives it. (2.) The obligations which result from 
 its reception. 
 Or, 
 
 (1.) By my creation God is the author of my 
 being, therefore I am bound to obey him. (2.) He 
 has made me for himself, therefore I am bound to 
 tend to him. (3.) He has made me to his own 
 image, therefore I am bound to resemble him. 
 
 (I.) "We must prepare for death. (2.) How 
 we ai'e to prepare. 
 Or, 
 
 (1.) The certainty of death ought to detach us 
 from all things of the world. (2.) The uncer- 
 tainty of death ought to cause us to live in a state 
 of continual preparation. 
 
174 
 
 Introduction of the Discourse. 
 
 Judgment 
 
 Heaven 
 
 Hell 
 
 Tirtues and 
 Vices. 
 
 Sacraments. 
 
 Prayer 
 
 Almsgiving. 
 
 Religion 
 
 Scandal 
 
 The Blessed 
 Virgin. 
 
 (1.) Its nature. (2.) The judgment of the just, 
 their consolation. (3.) The judgment of the 
 wicked, their anguish and despair. 
 
 (1.) The glory of Heaven. (2.) Means of at- 
 taining this glory. 
 Or, 
 
 (1.) The joys of Paradise ought to detach our 
 hearts from the things of the world. (2.) To in- 
 flame us with fervour in the service of God. Qi.) 
 To fill us with courage to sustain the trials of life. 
 
 ( (1.) What is Hell. (2.'i For whom it is pre- 
 ( pared. (3.) How we are to escape it. 
 
 ( (1.) Nature — marks, characteristics. (2.) Mo- 
 
 < fives — necessity, utility, profit, etc. (3.) Means — 
 ( general or particular. 
 
 c (1.) Nature or excellence. (2.) Necessity. (3.) 
 I Dispositions. 
 
 c (1.) Motives. (2.) Things to be asked. (3.) 
 ( Conditions. 
 
 f (1.) By establishing this precept God has shown 
 I his mercy to the poor. (2.) To the rich. 
 
 < Or, 
 
 I (1.) Obligation. (2.) Advantages. (3.; Con- 
 l, ditions. 
 
 c ' (1.) The evil of living without religion; (2.) 
 
 < Of not living according to our religion. (3.) 
 ( Happiness of living up to om* religion. 
 
 (1.) Its nature and enormity, 
 ment. (3.) Its reparation. 
 
 (2.) Its punish- 
 
 (1.) Who is the Blessed Virgin Mary: the 
 Daughter of the Father, the Mother of the Son, 
 the Spouse of the Holy Ghost. (2.) Motives why 
 ] we should worship her: our Queen, our Refuge, 
 our Comforter, our Mother. X^.) How we are to 
 worship her : Invocation and Imitation. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 BODY OF THE DISCO CTRSE—IXSTRUCTIOX, ARGUMEN"- 
 TATION", KEFUTATIOX, SPECIAL APPLICATION. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 INSTRUCTION ITS OBLIGATION, NECESSITY, AND NATURE. 
 
 AVING introduced and sufficiently ex- 
 plained our subject, having laid down and 
 developed, in the proposition and division, 
 the great leading truth to be propounded 
 and carried home to the hearts of our hearers, we enter 
 at once upon the establishing of that truth, we proceed 
 to prove our thesis, in what is technically called, the 
 argumentative part, or body of the discourse. 
 
 Our proposition, though essentially enunciating one 
 truth, enunciates a truth which may be viewed, as we 
 have already remarked, in various ways and established 
 by various proofs. These proofs, with their varied 
 amplifications and oratorical developments, form the 
 parts or points of our discourse ; and having duly in- 
 troduced our subject, and distributed these parts or 
 points, we, without further preamble or loss of time, 
 
176 Body of the Discoukse. 
 
 enter upon the establishment of them by means of solid 
 and appropriate argumentation. 
 
 We scarcely need speak of the necessity of solid 
 argument in every discourse, since the remaining parts 
 of the sermon are subordinate to this, and are effective 
 in proportion as they contribute to its success. The 
 exordium simply paves the way for the more becoming 
 introduction of the argumentation, whilst the perora- 
 tion merely seeks to move the hearts of om- heareis, 
 and thus cause them to put in practice those virtues 
 or oood resolutions of whose reasonableness and oblioa- 
 tion they have been already convinced by the preacher's 
 arguments. The object, therefoie, of the contirmation 
 or argumentative part of a sermon, is the full and com- 
 plete development of the proposition, with the ultimate 
 end of the persuasion of our hearers ; for, in every dis- 
 course, we certainly seek to make our audience adopt 
 our views, we certainly aim at obttiining for those views 
 not only the assent of their understanding, but still 
 more the consent of their will and their heart. 
 
 Sennons may be addressed, as Canon Bellefroid well 
 I'cmarks, to three classes of persons — to those Avho, 
 although in ignorance, are quite willing to receive the 
 truth : to those who, though instructed, are in doubt : 
 and, finally, to those Avho are neither in ignorance nor 
 doubt, but who are restrained by their passions, evil 
 habits, or human respects, from reducing their belief 
 
Instruction. 177 
 
 to practice, aud following the light which God has 
 given thcni. 
 
 If we are preaching to an audience composed of the 
 tirst class, it is merely necessary to instruct them. It 
 is: suthcient to show them their diit}', and they will at 
 once embrace it. 
 
 The second class require to be convinced. It may be 
 that they are beset with prejudices which we must 
 combat, or, perhaps, they are in suc^h a frame of mind 
 that they refuse to receive anything upon our Imre 
 word. They must have solid reasons for the doctrines 
 we advance ; but, once convinced, they lay down their 
 arms without further parley. In their case conviction 
 and persujision are identical, and they willinijly re- 
 nounce any vice as soon as we convince them that it 
 is contrary to the law of God. 
 
 The third cla«s are more difficult to be managed. 
 They are neither in ignorance nor in doubt, but they 
 are under the dominion of passions which enthral them 
 aud wdiich render them deaf to all conviction or per- 
 suasion, until we can manage to direct their forces 
 against themselves ; until we can manage to avail our- 
 selves of those same passioiLS and turn them in the right 
 direction ; until, by means of a warm and fervid elo- 
 quence, we can move the hidden springs of their heaif, 
 act efficaciously upon their will, and gain them from 
 vice to virtue. 
 
 It may, of course, happen that a preacher may have 
 13 
 
178 Body of the Discoukse. 
 
 to address an audience composed exclusively of one or 
 other of these three cllisses. In such a case his sermon 
 must be adapted to the circumstances in which he finds 
 himself; but, as an ordinary rule, a discourse has to 
 be composed in such a manner as to embrace them all 
 at the same time. Not only have our audience dift'er- 
 ent wants, but it also often happens that the same peo- 
 ple require to be instructed, to be convinced, and to be 
 efficaciously moved. It is impossible to instruct pro- 
 laerl}- without strengthening our doctrine by solid 
 proofs, reasons, and arguments ; impossible to reason 
 powerfully and efficaciously without at least some ad- 
 mixture of those more tender feelings through which 
 we reach the heart. 
 
 Hence, ^di ether we look at it in merely an oratori- 
 cal point of view, or whether we regard it with the 
 eye of faith, it is equally plain that clear, solid practi- 
 cal insti'uction, instruction embracing explanation and 
 argumentation, forms an integral and important part 
 of every good discourse. 
 
 Let us look at it for a moment merely in an oratori- 
 cal point of view. A discourse which is well furnished 
 with sound, solid instruction, which is strong in proofs 
 and appropriate arguments, is certain to be a good dis- 
 course. According to Horace the great secret of elo- 
 quence is to be well instructed on our subject, and to 
 be perfectly made up on all the collateral knowledge 
 which is necessary for the thorough mastery of it. 
 
Instruction. 179 
 
 Scribendi recte, sapere est principium etfons." 
 The fii-st object of the orator must necessarily be to 
 instruct his audience thoroughly on the subject which • 
 he treats, and this is still more true of the sacred thjin 
 of the secular orator, since the very end and aim of 
 his ministiy is to lead men to the practice of virtue 
 through a knowledge of the truth. Instruction ought 
 to form the body, the substance of the discourse ; the 
 other qualities — the charm of pleasing, and the ix)wer 
 of moving, supply the blood, so to speak, which is to 
 animate and give full life and vigour to the body. 
 Sicutz sanguis in corjporihus sic illce in orationibus 
 fusee esse debehunt,\ says Cicero. 
 . The power of pleasing and of moving, according to- 
 Quintilian, has no right to be brought forward except 
 in support of, and to add full weight to, solid instruc- 
 tion. If it be important, as it most certainly is, to 
 j)lease and to move in a sermon, it is infinitely more 
 impoiiant to instruct ; and we may safely say that no 
 preacher will ever succeed in really pleasing or mov- 
 ing unless he has first succeeded in imparting sound 
 instruction. The highest flights of oratory, unless the}' 
 be prepared for by a foundation of clear explanation 
 and solid instruction, will be mere empty declamation, 
 the antics of a madman, as Longinus expresses it ; or, 
 as Cicero puts it, the freaks of a drunkard in a company 
 of sober men. Hence we see that the greatest orators 
 • Ars Poet. t De Orat. lib. ii. 
 
180 Body of the Discourse. 
 
 of antiquity alwaj^s paved the way for the highest 
 flights of their genius by a course of solid argumenta- 
 * tion ; and those powerful ajjpeals to tlie passions of 
 their audience, by which they carried all before them, 
 had their foundation in the solid arguments which had 
 already been established. It was thus that Demos- 
 thenes proceeded in his immortal Philippics, and this 
 is the course followed by Cicero in those models of 
 all that is great in oratory, his orations against Cata- 
 line. 
 
 Let us look now at this subject with the eye of faith. 
 It is said that Bossuet obtained more conversions Ijy 
 his " Exposition of Catholic Doctrine" than by all his 
 controversial writings or his great sermons. Accord- 
 ing to the Council of Trent, the Holy Fathers have 
 frequently converted infidels, led back heretics to the 
 truth, and confirmed Catholics in the faith, by a sim- 
 ple exposition of the doctrines of religion. Eegarded 
 with the eye of faith, we may safely say that solid in- 
 struction is an essential part of eveiy sermon. The 
 obligation of imparting it is identical with the obliga- 
 tion to preach. When Jesus Christ laid upon his dis- 
 ciples and their successoi-s the obligation of preaching, 
 Docete omnes gentes, he laid upon them the obligation 
 of imparting to their flocks clear, solid instruction, for 
 such is the meaning of the word Docete. The man 
 who preaches without instructing does not satisfy his 
 obligation. He only eludes it. It is in vain to busy 
 
I]SrSTRUCTIOX. 181 
 
 ourseh^es about pleasing our hearers by the charms 
 of our style, or the graces of our diction ; vain to 
 appeal to those deep emotions, those master passions 
 which so wonderfully move and influence the heart of 
 man ; unless we have first laid a foundation of solid 
 instruction, Docere necessitatis est. . . Pojjuli 
 prius docendi quam movendi, says St. Augustine.* 
 
 And, in truth, if we wish intimately to appreciate 
 the position which instruction holds in the Christian 
 oration, we have only to reflect for a moment upon the 
 wants of those to whom our ministry is addressed. 
 
 Instruction, in the broad meaning of the term, may 
 be said to comprise a clear explanation of the Chris- 
 tian doctrine, and the establishment of it by solid and 
 appropriate proofs, or arguments. Now, as a general 
 rule, do not our hearers stand in urgent need of the 
 one and the other ? Unless their pastor clearly explain 
 to them the Christian doctrine, their ideas, even on 
 the most es.sential points, will be confused, inexact, 
 perhaps false ; inasmuch as they have no other means 
 of learning their religion except those which he may 
 afibrd them by his explanation of the truths of their 
 Holy Faith. 
 
 Does not experience bear sad testimony to the truth 
 of these remarks ? How many persons are there who 
 listen, Sunday after Sunday, to what are called ser- 
 mons, and yet remain in ignorance of leading truths 
 
 * De Doct. Christ, lib. iv, cap. 12. 
 
182 Body of the Discourse. 
 
 and essential practices; who go on from yeav to j'ear 
 without ever acquiring a thorough knowledge of their 
 religion ? Either their pastor knoAvs not how, or 
 takes not the trouble, to impart to them that clear 
 explanation of their faith and its obligations which 
 would liave made them intelligent and fervent Catho- 
 lics, potenfes in opere et sennone, able to give a rea- 
 son for the faith that is in them; or, what is just as 
 likely, he takes for granted that they know a great 
 deal of which in very truth they are profoundly ig- 
 norant, and so, instead of giving them that elomcntaiy 
 instruction which they grievously need, he lays him- 
 self out to preach set sermons, pei'haps on far-fetched 
 and unpractical subjects, tilled with empty conceits 
 and useless speculations, although expressed, it may 
 be, in pleasing language, and embellished with all the 
 charms of style and diction. 
 
 From whichsoever cause the mistake may arise, the 
 unfortunate result is the same, and the result is, that 
 in too many congregations we have numbers of what 
 Ave familiarly call half-and-half Catholics ; Catholics 
 who have such hazy and undefined notions on the most 
 essential points of belief and of practice ; who are cer- 
 tain to take the wrong side on those political-religious 
 questions which are continually cropping up, as, for 
 example, the question of the Pope in our day ; Men 
 who, either have never thoroughly known their reli- 
 gion, or having forgotten what they once knew, are l)y 
 
' Instruction. 183 
 
 their evil livens a living scandal to the Church to which 
 the}' nominally belong, a re[)roach to the body whose 
 name they bear, and, it nniy be, a heavy burden to be 
 laid upon the soul of the pastor ^vho is responsible to 
 God for their eternal salvation. 
 
 These poor jDCople, the humble equally with the more 
 resjoectable, have looked to their pastor to be fed with 
 the bread of life, and he has onlj^ given them a stone. 
 They have come, Sunday after Sunday, hungering and 
 thirsting, perhaps, for the food of solid instruction, and 
 they have been sent empty away ; or, at best, they 
 have been but fed with some empt}' conceit, some vain 
 speculation, which may have ministered pleasantly for 
 the moment to a diseased appetite, but which has left 
 no permanent or lasting effect behind it. Hence, we 
 have so many sennons and so littje fruit, so little real 
 piety and so much pretence of virtue, so many super- 
 stitions and so many disorderly habits even in those 
 who make a practice of approaching the Holy Sacra- 
 ments. 
 
 Yes, let the preacher pei-suade himself most inti- 
 mately, that if his sermons are to be really useful, if 
 they are to l)e worthy of him and his high mission, 
 they must be full of solid instruction. Let him feed 
 his flock Avith the solid food of the Christian doctrine, 
 clearly explained and earnestly enforced. Let him 
 never be weaiy of explaining the elementaiy truths of 
 our holy faith, the Sacraments, the Creed, the Com- 
 
184 Body op the Discoukse. 
 
 mandmeiits of God and His Church. Let him insist 
 upon them, in season and out of season. Let him en- 
 force them, opportune et importune, in omni patientia 
 ft doctrina. Then will his preaching be worthy of 
 himself and his mission. Then, and then alone, will 
 he bring forth much fruit to the glory of God and the 
 salvation of innnortal souls. Then, and then alone, 
 will he truly discharge " the work of the ministry," 
 opus minislerii. 
 
 Not only must the Christian doctrine be clearly ex- 
 plained, but it must be solidly proved. 
 
 No doubt there are some truths which are so clear, 
 or which are so univei'sally admitted, that it would be 
 useless, perhaps even dangerous, to set about pro\ang 
 them. With the exception of these primary tniths, 
 the preacher is expected to sujjport his propositions by 
 solid proofe. Our audience neither I'egard us as in- 
 spired, nor the assertions which we advance as infalli- 
 ble. The}^ frequently listen to us Avith a certain degree 
 of distrust, and only give their assent to our teaching 
 Avhen it is sustained by sound argument. Anticipating 
 that we shall jjrobably demand from them sacrifices 
 painful to flesh and blood, very frequently they are 
 prepared beforehand to entrench themselves behind 
 those subterfuges which self-love may suggest to them 
 for withholding their consent to the doctrine advanced 
 by the preacher. If such be the case, if they be thus 
 prepared to resist the truth, let the preacher at least 
 
Instruction. 185 
 
 confound them by the force of his arguments ; and, if 
 he cannot bring them into subjection to the light, 
 reduce them to silence. Besides, how often is the con- 
 viction produced by solid argument the only fruit that 
 remains after a sermon ! Emotions are transitory, reso- 
 lutions inconstant, impressions easily effaced. If these 
 aftcctions be not founded upon deep and earnest con- 
 viction, the whole edifice is but as a house built upon 
 the sand, which is swept away by the first wind of 
 temptation, the first whispering of human respect, the 
 first assault of passion, or the first strong attack of 
 natural repugnance and weary disgust. 
 
 Hence it is that sound rejisouing, solid argumentation, 
 is the veiy nerve and muscle of a discourse. In elo- 
 quence as in philosopliy, conviction is the result of 
 sound reason, the fruit of just consequence drawn from 
 good and true principles. The difference is, that the 
 philosopher affects the driest and most rigorous terms; 
 whilst the orator seeks to hide the natural ruggedness 
 of the instrument which he employs under the graces 
 of the garment with whi(;h he clothes it, but it is the 
 same instrument as that which is used by the philo- 
 sopher, and it is used for the same end, to convince his 
 hearers ; the philosopher, however, looking upon con- 
 viction as an end, whilst the orator views it as a means, 
 an essential means if you will, but, still, only as a means 
 to pei"suasion. 
 
 Moreover, man being a creature of reason desh-es to 
 
186 Body of the Discoukse, 
 
 be led by reason to comprehend and to a adopt those 
 truths which are proposed to him. If he be not thus 
 guided, either he does not adopt them at all, or his 
 faith, being at best but weak, is exposed to continual 
 danger. Resting upon no solid foundation, that faith 
 is continually exposed to be shaken, if not to be alto- 
 gether overthrown, by the evil discourse to which he 
 is constrained to listen, by the bad books with which 
 he so frequently meets, or by the temptations with 
 which he may be assailed from within or Avithout, from 
 the evil suggestions of his restless enemy or of his own 
 corrupt nature. Hence, whenever the ])reacher has to 
 establish any truth which has been formally denied or 
 called into question, he must advance those formal and 
 positive arguments which will place it, clearly and in- 
 contcstibly, aliove doubt or cavil. When there may 
 not be the same rigorous necessity for advancing for- 
 mal proofs, there are many occasions on which it is 
 most useful to prove the Christian doctrine by solid 
 arguments. If our people have once clearly compre- 
 hended the force of those arguments on which their 
 Holy Faith and its salutary practices are built, they 
 will not only be secured in a great measure against the 
 assaults of the enemy, but the}^ will also be able to 
 refute the sneering sophisms of the unbeliever, whilst 
 they Avill appreciate more intimately, and prize more 
 highly, that religion whose motives and whose pre- 
 cepts are equally in accordance with the conviction 
 
Instkuctiox. 187 
 
 that flows from the intellect, and the love which springs 
 from the heart. 
 
 Thus much on the general necessity of instruction 
 in the argumentative part or body of our discoui-se. It 
 now remains to descend more into particulai-s, and to 
 examine more in detail the precise nature of this in- 
 struction, and the manner of imparting it. 
 
 In order to render his discourse solidly instructive, 
 we need hardly say that the preacher does not com- 
 mence by consulting his imagination, or b}- selecting 
 the most pleasing or uncommon figures of speech. 
 He commences rather by acquiring from approved 
 sources a fund of clear, solid, practical information on 
 his subject. Having studied for his own information, 
 he then studies how to apply his knowledge most 
 powerfully and efficaciously to his hearers ; for, it is 
 one thing to possess a certain amount of information 
 on any point, and another, and a very different thing, 
 to know how to impart it to an audience. 
 
 It frequently happens that the most learned men are 
 the woi-st teachei-s, and this, either because they can- 
 not comprehend the difficulties of persons who are less 
 gifted than themselves, or, because they do not study 
 how to adapt themselves to the comprehensions and 
 intellectual calibre of their audience. No matter how 
 well a man may know a thing, he must study it deeply 
 in relation to his audience before he will be able to 
 expose it with clearness, and with such method, and 
 
188 Body of the Discourse. 
 
 in such manner, as may render it intelligiljle, and by 
 this means useful to them. 
 
 The uistruction which the Christian preacher neces- 
 sarily proposes to himself to impart to his tlock is com- 
 prised, as we have already remarked, under two lead- 
 ing heads : (1) a clear explanation, and (2) the estab- 
 lishment, by solid proofs, of that portion of the Chris- 
 tian doctrine which forms the sulTJect of his discourse. 
 We shall best investigate these important matters by 
 considering the manner according to which they are 
 to be conducted ; at the same time suffo-estino- to the 
 young preacher some practical rules which may aid 
 him to explain and establish the points of his sermon. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 EXPLANATION OF THE CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE. CLEAR- 
 NESS THE ESSENTIAL QUALITY OF INSTRUCTION 
 
 MEANS OF SECURING IT. SPECIAL ADAPTATION OF 
 
 THE SUBJECT TO THE AUDIENCE. RULES FOR THE 
 
 USE OF WORDS AND THE CONSTRUCTION OF STRONG 
 AND HARMONIOUS SENTENCES. 
 
 In order to explain his subject clearly, effectively, 
 and well, to his hearers, the preacher must follow cer- 
 tain practical rules. 
 
 1. Unless he have positive knowledge of the con- 
 trary, he must take it for granted, as we have remarked 
 in another place, that his audience know very little, 
 
iNSTRUCTIOIf. 189 
 
 that they possess very little exact and definite int'onna- 
 tion on the sul)ject which he is treating, and his expla- 
 nation must be always made with these principles in 
 view. Hence, jposiiis jwnendis, he will explain his 
 subject, its nature, origin, or special bearing, in the 
 most simple and elementar}^ manner, clearing up every 
 difficulty which may reasonably be supposed to exist 
 in the minds of any of his hearers. 
 
 It is vastly less inconvenient to run the risk of say- 
 ing too much, and of repeating to the more instructed 
 portions of our flock explanations -which they may have 
 heard before, and which they perfectly understand, 
 than to say too little and thus leave the more ignorant 
 portion of our charge without that knowledge wdiich 
 is absolutely necessary for salvation. 
 
 Besides as we said abo\'e, the most elementary truths 
 can always, by due preparation and care, be presented 
 in an attractive and pleasing manner ; whilst, on the 
 other hand, spiritual things, Christian truths and Chris- 
 tian practices, even of the most elementary character, 
 are always more or less obscure to the sight of the 
 children of the world whose eyes are blinded by mate- 
 rial interests, passions, and sin. Let not, then, the young 
 preacher be deterred from explaining simple truths, in 
 a simple manner, by the thought that he may weaiy 
 his audience by repeating what they already know. 
 Experience w\\\ soon teach him that they possess much 
 less exact and definite knowledije than he srives them 
 
190 Body of the Discoukse. 
 
 credit for. Let his golden rule ever be JSfon nova, sed 
 nove. 
 
 2. In preparing his instructions the preacher ought 
 to impose upon himself a conscientious obligation of 
 being very exact ; of distinguishing carefully between 
 what is of precept and what is only of counsel, between 
 essential dispositions, and what is only of greater per- 
 fection. He ought also to be much more solicitous 
 about practice than speculation, about preparing his 
 hearers to receive the Sacraments worthily rather than 
 about tilling them with admiration of them. The rea- 
 sons for this are evident. 
 
 3. The first and most essential quality of good in- 
 struction is clearness. Clearness is that quality in a 
 discouise, or in a particular sentence, which enables 
 the hearer to understand, easily and luihesitatingly, the 
 meaning of him wlio speaks. When a discourse is thus 
 clear, an audience can no more help understanding its 
 meaning that they can help perceiving the rays of the 
 mid-day sun. 2hm simjjlex et ajpertus sermo debet 
 esse, ut ah intelligentia sui nullos, quamvis imperitos, 
 excladat* Clearness is identical with simplicity'and 
 precision. The young preacher, more especially in a 
 country like Ireland, where nature has endowed her 
 children with a warm and fervid imagination, can never 
 impress this truth too deeply upon himself He must 
 persuade himself that clearness and simplicity go hand- 
 
 * St. Prosper. Lib. i. de vit. coutempl., c. xxiii. 
 
IirSTEUCTION^. 191 
 
 ill-hand. In the first years of his ministry more par- 
 ticuhirly, he must cautiousl}' restrain and control the 
 imagination Avhich is so ready to run riot amid the 
 flowers of rhetoric ; and lie must not shrink from an 
 unsparing use of the pruning knife when he finds, as he 
 often will, that he is sacrificing sense to sound ; that 
 he is losing clearness in verbiage ; that he is heaping 
 epithet upon epithet, without in any way developing 
 or rendering his meaning more plain. 
 
 It is evident, however, that clearness as applied to 
 instruction is a relative term, since a discourse, whose 
 meaning may be quite plain and intelligible to one 
 •audience, may be just the conti-ary to another, less 
 gifted or less highly educated. The clearness of a dis- 
 course, in this relative sense, may be said to depend, 
 (rt) Upon the tact, discretion, and judgment with which 
 the subject is adapted to the special capacity of the 
 audience to be addressed ; (b) Upon such a selection 
 of individual words and phrases as are most proper to 
 express the ideas to be conveyed ; (c) Upon such an 
 arrangement of those w^ords and phrases as will form 
 a well-constructed, strong and harmonious sentence. 
 
 (a.) St. Augustine in his work De catechizandis 
 Hudibus, and all the masters of the art of Sacred Elo- 
 quence, are unanimous in their opinion as to the abso- 
 lute necessity of adapting our discourse to the intelli- 
 gence and capacity of our audience. Quintilian, in 
 his^ Institutions, devotes an entire book to the same 
 
192 Body of the Discoukse. 
 
 subject, uor is Cicero less explicit on the obligation of 
 the orator to adapt not only his thoughts, but his ex- 
 pressions, to the capacity of his hearers. JSfon emm, 
 he says, auditor omnis eodem aut verborimi gencre 
 traclandus est, aut sententiarum. . . Nee sem])er, 
 nee apud omnes, nee contra omnes, nee pro omnibus 
 eodem niodo dieendmn* 
 
 This is one of the main secrets of the success of a 
 discourse, as the want of this special adaptation is one of 
 the principal causes of the little fruit which is produced 
 by many sermons. A preacher sits down in his room 
 and, without a thought of the peculiar capacities, ne- 
 cessities, and dispositions of those to whom it is to be 
 addressed, composes a vague, general, and unpractical 
 discourse, just as much adapted to one congregation 
 as to another. He seems to take it for granted that 
 all people are gifted with the same capacity, have 
 leceived the same amount of education, and are subject 
 to the same intirmities and Avants. 
 
 On the sf^me principle, some clergymen take much 
 pains to write a discourse for ever}' Sunday in the year, 
 thinking, that when they have done this, they have 
 fiiltilled all that is due from them, and that nothing 
 I'cmains but to repeat the same course of sermons year 
 after year ; as if the Avants of the faithful never varied, 
 as if they never made any progress in virtue, or, in fine, 
 as if the preacher, after many years spent in the minis- 
 * Orav. lib. xxli, and cxxiii. 
 
iNSTRUCTIOif. 1 93 
 
 try, acquired no adtlitionul knowledge and cxpericince, 
 no greater capacity for instructing, guiding, and gov- 
 erning his flock, than he possessed in tlie first days of 
 his priesthood. 
 
 Now, this is veiy false, and is not only prejudicial 
 to success in preaching, but is opposed to the first prin- 
 ciples of Sacred Eloquence. The orator, who does 
 not sedulously adapt his discourse to the capacit}'^ and 
 dispositions of his special audience, simply abuses lan- 
 guage. Language has been given to man as the vehicle 
 of communicating his ideas to his fellow-men. It is 
 evident that language can only attain its end Avhen it 
 is intelligible, and hence, if he who addresses me does 
 so in tenns which I cannot comprehend, he diverts this 
 faculty from the end for which it was destined by God, 
 and stands in the same relation towards me as a stransfcr 
 whose tongue is unknown to me. Si nesciero virtutem 
 V0VZ8, qui loquitur, mihi harbarus* He raises his voice 
 without any reason, says St. Augustine, since we only 
 speak in order that we may be understood. Loqueiidi 
 omnino nulla causa, si quod loquimur non inlelligunt 
 ii propter quos, ut intelligant, loquimur. ^ 
 
 Such a speaker fiiils no less signally as regards the 
 rules of true eloquence. True eloquence does not con- 
 sist in the mere graces of style, in skilfully rounded 
 periods, or in elegant figures of speech ; but in the 
 power of acting upon the minds and the hearts of 
 
 * Cor. xiv. t De Doct. Christ, lib. iv. 10. 
 
 13 
 
194 Body of the Discourse. 
 
 men ; enlightening the one by means of solid instruc- 
 tion and reasonable conviction, and moving the other 
 by those strong emotions which influence the will and 
 reduce it to subjection. It is evident that the tirst con- 
 dition for securing these great etfects of eloquence con- 
 sists in putting ourselves, in some sense, on a level with 
 those to whom we speak, and in thus addressing our- 
 selves to their capacity and to theiremotious and feelings. 
 There is no doubt that, in this happy facility of 
 addressing himself to his audience, lay the great secret 
 of that wonderful influence which O'Connell exercised 
 for so many years over the Irish people, which enabled 
 him to turn them whither he would ; to govern them 
 and to restrain them as if they had been one man. 
 Hence, the truth contained in the wise precept of 
 Quintilian, Apud populum qm ex pluribm constat in- 
 doctis, secundum communes majis intellectus loquen- 
 dum est* 
 
 These principles, which are essentially true as re- 
 gards orators in general, become still more practical, 
 and of still higher signiticance and importance, when 
 applied to the preacher of the Gospel. The sacred 
 orator, who does not do all that lies in him to adapt 
 his discourse to the capacity and special necessities of 
 his hearers, forgets the great examples which are set 
 before him by his Lord and Master Jesus Christ, and 
 the Saints. We have only to take up the Sacred 
 * Lib. iii. c. 8. 
 
iNSTKUCTIOlSr. 195 
 
 Scriptures, to see how sedulously our Divine Lord 
 varied the matter and the form of His instructions, 
 according to the capacity of those whom He addressed. 
 With the Doctors of the LaAv He spoke a language 
 elevated and closely reasoned, full of anMogies and \f^ 
 deductions logicall}' drawn from intricate and difficult 
 pjissages of the Old Testament. When He addressed 
 the people it was in the most simple and familiar man- 
 ner. His words are clear, and His language contains 
 maiiy short maxims eas}^ to retain and full of substance.* 
 In order that He may be more easily and fully compre- 
 hended. He descends to the most humble comparisons, 
 such as those of the labourer, the husbandman, the 
 vine, and others drawn from subjects which were con- 
 stantly before the eyes of the people. As St. jMark 
 tells us, He only spoke of those matters which they 
 were able to understand. Pi-out jjoierant audire.f He 
 abstained from those which were aljove their compre- 
 hensions ; Adhuc haheo multa dicere vobis, sed non 
 potestis poi'tare modo-X Following the example of 
 his Divine Master, St. Paul addressed the Corinthians, 
 not iis spiritual persons but as those standing in need 
 of the most simple and elementary instruction : Tan- 
 quatn parvulis in Christo lac vohis dedi, non escam ; 
 nondum enim potevatis.\ Such, too, has been tlie 
 teaching and the practice of all the Saints of God. 
 
 * Sermon on the Mount. t Marc, iv, 33. 
 
 X Joann. xvi, 12. q 1 Cor. iii, 2. 
 
Id6 Body of the Discoukse. 
 
 What can be clearer, or more carefully adapted to the 
 capacity of his hearers', than the Homilies of St. 
 Gregory the Great ? How excellently he reduces to 
 practice the precepts which he deduces and lays down 
 from the word of Job, Super illos stillahit eloquium 
 meum* He who instructs othei*s, says this holy doc- 
 tor, must accommodate himself to the weakness of his 
 hearers. He must allow his instruction to fall upon 
 them little by little, drop by drop, according as they 
 are able to receive it ; abstaining from everything 
 which is too deep to be useful to them. He who acts 
 otherwise, he concludes, seeks not the salvation of souls 
 but his own glory. In fine, to use the language of 
 that great missionary bishop, St. Liguori, '• If you are 
 not bound to speak in such a manner as to be intelli- 
 gible to the lowly and the ignorant, why do you sum- 
 mon them to the church ? You only lose your own 
 time and render the word of God useless to them. . . 
 But so far as I am concerned," adds the holy bishop, 
 " I shall not have to" render an account to God, for 
 my sermons, for I have always preached in such a man- 
 ner as to render myself easily understood by the most 
 simple and ignorant of my hearers." 
 
 In addition to these arguments, we might also show 
 
 how the preacher who neglects toadiapt himself to his 
 
 audience is unfaithful to the dischai'ge' of his duty as 
 
 an ambassador of God to men ; an office which' im- 
 
 * Job, xxix, 22. 
 
Instkuctiok. 197 
 
 poses upon him the ol)ligation of making known, in 
 the clearest and most unequivocal manner, the will of 
 his Master, and of doing his utmost to persuade his 
 hearers to obey that will and reduce its precepts to 
 practice. We might show how he might just as well 
 not protend to preach at all. We might show how 
 such a preacher is utterly without excuse, since there 
 is no man who cannot make himself understood if he 
 will only take the pains to render his discoui-se clear, 
 simple, and practical ; but we have said more than 
 enough to establish the general principle, and it is now 
 time to descend from the consideration of these gen- 
 eral principles to their particular application. 
 
 It is very rarely that we form a just idea of what a 
 discourse requires to be in order that it may be fully 
 adapted to the capacities and necessities of the special 
 audience whom we have to address. We are too I'eady 
 to imagine that others can have no difficulty in com- 
 prehending that which is so clear to us, and we forget 
 the immense distance which there is between the under- 
 standing of the man of liberal education and that of 
 him who has received little or none of such intellectual 
 culture, him who is incapable of seizing any thought, 
 or any turn of expression which is not put with the 
 greatest clearness ; and this is the first mistake w^hich 
 the preacher makes. 
 
 The second error consists in supposing that, in order 
 to accommodate oureelves to the capacity of our hear- 
 
198 Body of the Discourse. 
 
 ers, we must speak in careless, uncultivated, and per- 
 haps undignified language. We forget that the word 
 of God must always be treated with respect, and in 
 such a manner as to command the esteem and vener- 
 ation of our hearers ; and we also forget that simplicity 
 of expression is compatible with the greatest purity 
 and correctness of style. 
 
 Thirdly, we are too ready to imagine that, in order 
 to speak simpl}^ and in such a way as to suit our hear- 
 ers, we must speak without preparation, expressing 
 whatever presents itself to us at the moment. We 
 could make no greater mistake than this, as we have 
 already shown in Chapter II. Let it suffice to repeat 
 in this place that the more ignorant our audience are, 
 the greater- is the necessity and obligation of careful 
 preparation, in order to render oui-selves intelligible 
 to them. The man of education, of trained mind and 
 acute intellect, Avill pro)xibly have no difficulty in seiz- 
 ing our meaning ; but it requires no ordinary pi-epara- 
 tion, no ordinary amount of patience, of tact, and of 
 reflection, to address with prolit, and success an uncul- 
 tivated and uneducated audience ; to accommodate 
 audN adapt our ideas of spiritual things, and our way 
 of conceiving them, to the ordinary turn of their 
 thoughts — thoughts soon accustomed to be employed 
 upon such matters, and running in such different lines 
 from our own. It is, in truth, a matter of no ordinary 
 difficulty to secure this essential simi^licity and clear- 
 
Instruction". 199 
 
 noss without forgetting tlie respect which is ever due 
 to God's holy word ; and, yet luiless we succeed, to 
 wliat end, as St. Liguori demands, do we summon the 
 poor and the k)\vly to listen to that instruction which 
 is more necessary for their soul's salvation than the 
 air which they breathe is for the life of their body, 
 that instruction which we are bound, hy solemn obli- 
 gations which may not be neglected, to impart to them? 
 
 In order, then, practically to secure this essentia\ 
 adaptation of our discourse to our audience, w^e must 
 carefully study their character, dispositions, position 
 in life, their necessities and requirements, and frame 
 our sermon in such a manner as to satisfy these condi- 
 tions so far as may be within our power. 
 
 For example, if our audience be composed of sim- 
 ple and unlettered persons, it is evident that a familiar 
 and catechetical instruction is what is most suitable to 
 them. If they consist of educated and more highly 
 cultivated persons, the discourse to ])e addressed to 
 them must necessarily be of a more elevated character, 
 more elaborate both in conception and execution. If 
 we have to address a mixed congregation, we must 
 select such a subject and such a mode of treatment, as 
 will interest the better educated, and at the same time 
 be of practical utility to the more ignorant. 
 
 On all ordinary occasions w^e should be careful to 
 select such simple subjects for our sermons as are with- 
 in the reach of every capacity. We should be equally 
 
200 Body of the Discourse. 
 
 careful, in our development of the subject, to employ 
 no proofs or reasons, no comparisons or examples, no 
 historical illustrations, either sacred or profane, which 
 may not be easily intelligible to any ordinary intellect. 
 The only preacher who is truly useful is he who is 
 content, when such a course may be necessaiy, to sac- 
 rifice learning, and, in one sense, reputation to utility; 
 he who is content to confine himself simply to that 
 which may suit his hearers the most perfectly ', he 
 who considers, not what will be most pleasing to him- 
 self, or his own educated tastes, but most conducive to 
 the solid instruction and simctification of his flock. 
 
 Having thus discreetly chosen our subject in view 
 of the special needs of our auditory, the next step is 
 to arrange oiu- matter with the greatest order and 
 method. This point has been sufficiently explained 
 in Chapter IV, when treating of the plan and unity 
 of a discourse. We will merely add that, of course, 
 nothing conduces so much to order and clearness, as 
 good and exact definitions and divisions. Exact defi- 
 nitions cast a wonderful light upon our subject, and 
 assist us in the most efficacious manner to lead our 
 hearers from the magis notum to the minus notum ; 
 whilst good divisions enable both speaker and audience 
 to see at a glance the principal parts or ramifications 
 of the discoui-se, thus preventing confusion of ideas, 
 and securing precision of thought and of expression. 
 
 (6.) Having thus secured the essential adaptation of 
 
Instruction". 201 
 
 our subject to our special audience, having arranged 
 our matter in an orderly manner, all that requires to 
 be done for the attainment of perfect clearness is to 
 select such words and phrases as are most proper to 
 express the idea to be conveyed, and to arrange those 
 words and phrases in such a manner as to form well- 
 constructed, strong, and harmonious senten(!es. 
 
 Cleai'ness depends much upon the employment of 
 such individual words and phrases as are most proper 
 to express the idea to be conveyed. There are no words 
 which are perfectly synonymous in meaning. Hence, 
 there is for eveiy idea some word which expresses it 
 more perfectly and completely than any other, and 
 that speaker is most clear who best knows how to em- 
 ploy this precise word. Without entering into the 
 piu-ely rhetorical part of the subject, we will lay down 
 some general rules on this matter which the young 
 i:)reacher will find useful. 
 
 The fii-st and most essential rule regarding the use 
 of words is that they be pure English. This supposes, 
 not only that the words and phrases which the preacher 
 employs belongs to the English language, but that he 
 employs them in the precise manner, and to express 
 the precise meaning which custom has assigned to 
 them. Words may be faulty in three respects. They 
 may not express the idea which the author intends, 
 but some other which only resembles, or, is akin to it. 
 They may express the idea, but not quite fully and 
 
202 Body of the Discouese. 
 
 completely ; or, they may express it, together with 
 something more than he intends. When a speaker 
 uses Avords in this loose manner he is said to be guilty 
 of an Impropriety. This arises, of course, from an 
 ignorance of the difference or distinction which exists 
 between words that are nearly synonj'mous, or that 
 have some resemblance in sense or sound. To these 
 faults is opposed the quality of Precision, which is 
 only acquired by long study of approved authors, and 
 much careful practice in composition. From the neg- 
 lect of, or mability to secure, precision, arises what is 
 known as a loose style. 
 
 When a speaker employs words which are not recog- 
 nized as pure English, he is said to be guilty of a Bar- 
 barism. This fault may be incurred in three ways : 
 1st. By the use of words that are entirely obsolete, 
 as, uneath, ivhilom, etc. 2ndly. By the use of words 
 entirely new, as, cognition effluxion, from the Latin ; 
 or, dernier resort, from the French. This rule, how- 
 ever, suffers many exceptions and is greatly governed 
 by public opinion and taste. 3rdly. By the use of 
 new formations, or by compositions from simple and 
 primitive words which are in present use. Greater 
 license is allowed in this than in the two preceding 
 cases, provided the English analogy be carefully pre- 
 served. 
 
 Although, strictly speaking, he might be guilty 
 neither of Impropriety nor Barbarism in their use, the 
 
Instkuctiox. 303 
 
 preacher, in view of the special end which is Ijcfore 
 him, should also avoid all merely scholastic terms, as 
 essence, accidents, personalittj, genus and species ; all 
 abstract terms, as spiritaalily, mysticism, asceticism, 
 which the common people do not understand ; and all 
 expressions drawn from mystical language, as, the 
 sjnritual life, the animal man, etc, terms, which, al- 
 though quite plain and familiar to ecclesiastics and 
 spiritual pei-sons, are by no means equally so to even 
 educated laics. 
 
 "VVe subjoin the following practical remarks on the 
 emploj-ment of words from Rev. Professor Barry's val- 
 uable " Grammar of Eloquence." 
 
 " In chosing words and phrases, the following rules 
 will serve to guide the waiter : — 
 
 " 1. When the choice lies between two words, one 
 with a single meaning, the other with more than one, 
 take the former. ' Obvious' is better than-' apparent,' 
 which means also ' not real.' 
 
 " 2. Adhere to analogy, as far as possible. ' Con- 
 temporary' is better than Cbtemporary ;' because in 
 words compounded with tlie inseparable preposition 
 con, the n is retained before a consonant, but expunged 
 before a vowel. 
 
 " 3. When no other test will decide between two 
 words, that ought to be preferred which is most agree- 
 able to the ear. ' Delicacy' is preferred to ' clelicate- 
 ness, ' incapability' to ' incapableness.' 
 
204 Body of the Discouese. 
 
 "4. A simple form of expi-essiou is to be preferred 
 to a complex one. ' Accept' is better than ' accept 
 of, ' admit' than ' admit of.' 
 
 " 5. In cases of doubt, adhere to ancient usage. 
 
 " 6. All words and phrases, which are remai'kably 
 hai-sh and inharmonious, are to be avoided, unless when 
 absolutely necessary. Such objectionable modes of 
 speech may be sometimes found in good authors. A 
 term composed of words already compounded, or diffi- 
 cult of utterance is generally to be avoided. Care, 
 however, must be taken not to deprive the language 
 of strength, in order to consult for its elegance. In- 
 hanuonious words are such as, ' unsuccessfulness,' 
 ' inaccessibleness,' ' patheticalness.' 
 
 "7. Avoid obsolete words : foreio-n or strano-e terms 
 unsanctioned ; vulgar contractions, as, ' gent' for gen- 
 tleman, ' gemmen,' for gentlemen ; bombastic words, 
 as, ' potentiality' for power ; poetical words in jjrose 
 composition, as ' morn' for morning, ' oft' for often ; 
 vulgar, indelicate or slang words ; local or provincial 
 tei'ms. 
 
 " 8. Avoid unmeaning phrases, as, ' with half an eye^ 
 ' less than nothing.' 
 
 " 9. Avoid affected phrases as, ' glorious, highdomed 
 blossoming world.' ' Their hot life-phrensy cooled.' 
 
 " 10. Avoid Greek and Latin and foreign phrases, 
 unless absolutely necessary, as, ' posse comitatus,' ' pro 
 and con,' 'sine qua non,' 'bagatelle,' 'jeu d'esprit.' 
 
Instruction. 205 
 
 " 11. Avoid provincial phrases, called ' Anglicisnis, 
 Cockncyisms, Scotticisms, Irishisms, Americanisms.' 
 
 " 12. Avoid vague and general terms whenever a 
 precise idea is to be conveyed. Select the word which 
 conveys most nearly and exactly the idea to be ex- 
 pressed." 
 
 (c). In order tosecnre perfect clearness of language 
 not only must the words and phrases selected be such 
 jis are most proper to express the idea to be conveyed, 
 l:>ut they must also be an-anged in such a manner as 
 to form well-constructed, strong, and hai-monious sen- 
 tences. 
 
 A sentence is a collection of words expressing a 
 judgment or decision of the mind about the agreement 
 or disagreement of ideas. It principally consists, of 
 course, of a subject, a verb, and if the verb be active, 
 an object on which the action denoted by the verb is 
 exercised. A sentence may be simple or complex, as 
 it contains one or more members ; but the principal 
 thing to bebome in mind is that, in eveiy perfect sen- 
 tence, there is expressed a complete and finished judg- 
 ment of the mind about the agreement or disagree- 
 ment of the ideas which it contains. This, although 
 constituting the very foundation, not merely of elegance 
 but of absolute coiTcctness in language, is a matter 
 which is too much overlooked and neglected by young- 
 speakers or writei-s, who not unfrequently leave their 
 subject without its verb, or their verb without its object. 
 
206 Body of the Discoukse. 
 
 Mere correctness in the formation of a sentence is 
 secured by a competent knowledge of English Gram- 
 mar ; and this, of course, we take for granted in the 
 preacher or ecclesiastical student. Our present purpose 
 is, not to consider those qualities which secure mere 
 correctness, but those which produce strong, vigorous, 
 and harmonious sentences. Taking also for granted a 
 due knowledge and appreciation of that fundamental 
 rule in English Composition, that the words or mem- 
 bers most nearly related should be placed as near as 
 possible to each other in the sentence, in order that 
 their mutual relation may obviously and immediately 
 appear, we shall probably best describe the qualities 
 which produce strong and well-constructed sentences 
 by indicating the defects which produce the contrary 
 result. 
 
 Weakness and obsciu'ity of language arise piinci- 
 pally from three causes, from a bad arrangement of 
 adver))s and pronouns, from the doubtful position of 
 a circumstance in the middle of a sentence, and from 
 too artificial a construction of such sentence. 
 
 The faulty collection of adverbs and pronouns is 
 the source of endless confusion, and of much weakness, 
 in the composition of sentences. The only practical 
 ride on the matter is, to place the adverb in such a 
 position as to indicate most clearly the verb, adjective, 
 or other adverl), which it qualifies. Ordinarily, ad- 
 verbs, and more especially " only" and " always," are 
 
Instructiox. 207 
 
 placed as near Jis possiljle to the word which they are 
 intended to qualify. Pereonal pronouns should clearly 
 point out the noun for which they stand. They should 
 not be introduced too frequently in the sjime sentence. 
 An indiscreet and too frequent repetition of pereonal 
 pronouns in a sentence is a source of great amT)iguity. 
 Whenever, on account of such repetition, the noun to 
 which the pronoun refers ma}'' become at all doubtful 
 or obscure, the noun must be repeated. The relative 
 pronoun should, instantly and without the least obscu- 
 rity, present its antecedent to the mind of the reader 
 or hearer ; and, in order to secure this, it should be 
 placed as near as possible to such antecedents ; since, 
 notwithstanding all our precautions, the relatives, wlio, 
 which, that, those, and whom, often create a certain 
 deo-ree of ambiijuity in a sentence, even when there 
 can be no doubt as to the antecedent. 
 
 Weakness and olisourity sometimes result from the 
 doubtful position of a circumstance or clause in the 
 middle of a sentence. The preacher should, as much 
 as possible, carefully avoid all such circumlocutions, 
 incidental phrases, useless epithets or expressions, as 
 merely add word to word without in any way develop- 
 ing his meaning, or rendering it more clear. He should 
 necessarily aim at disposing the words and members 
 of his sentence in such a maimer as to bring out the 
 sense to the best advantage, to render the impression 
 which he designs to make most full and complete, and 
 
308 Body of the Discourse. 
 
 to give to eveiy word and member its full weight and 
 force. To secure this he must prune his sentences of 
 all redundant words and membei's, so that every word 
 shall present a distinct or separate idea, and eveiy mem- 
 ber a distinct or sepai-ate thought. 
 
 Weakness and obscurity also arise from too artificial 
 a construction of a sentence, as when its structure is 
 too complicated, or when the sense is too long sus- 
 pended by parenthesis, or too difficult to seize. These 
 long-winded sentences are, according to St. Francis of 
 Sales, the pest of preaching. They weaiy even an 
 intellectual audience, whilst the}^ render the preacher's 
 meaning unintelligible to the simple and uneducated. 
 When, from the nature of the case, the period neces- 
 sarily contains several members, and thus becomes more 
 or less complicated, a short parenthesis introduced in 
 tlie proper place will not in the least interfere with 
 clearness, and may add both strength and vivacity to 
 the sentence. Without fall ing into the opposite extreme, 
 the preacher, as a general rule, will do well to prefer 
 short sentences to long ones. We have said, without 
 falling into the opposite extreme, since, if the sentences 
 be too much cut up, the preacher's style becomes harsh 
 and irregular, dr}^, meagre, and undignified. 
 
 Although, absolutely speaking, a sentence may be 
 Avell-constructed and strong without being harmonious 
 still, as a general rule, such a sentence will possess some 
 degree of harmony, since this haraiony is the result of 
 
Instruction. 209 
 
 a happy choice of words, and a felicitous armngenieiit 
 of the meinbei's of a period, qualities which are found, 
 in a higher or lower degree, in every perfect sentence. 
 
 Those words are most pleasing and most conducive 
 to harmony which arc composed of smooth and liquid 
 sounds, with a proper mixtiu'e of vowels and conso- 
 nants ; without any harsh or grating consonants, or 
 many open vowels, which cause a hiatus or disagreea- 
 ble gaping of the mouth. According to Blair, it may 
 always be assumed as a general principle that, what- 
 ever sounds are difficult in pronunciation are, in the 
 same proportion, harsh and painful to the ear. Vow- 
 els give softness, consonants strength, to the sound of 
 words. The music of language requires a just propor- 
 tion of l)oth. Long words are commonly more pleas- 
 ing to the ear than monosyllables, on account of the 
 composition or succession of sounds which they present 
 to it. Those long words are most musical which do not 
 run wholly either upon long or shoit syllables, but are 
 composed of a mixture of both ; such as rejjent, pro- 
 duce, impetuosit}/, etc., etc. 
 
 As regards the arrangement of its members, it is 
 evident that the music of a sentence depends much on 
 their proper distribution, and on the close or cadence 
 of the whole. On this point it will suffice to say, that 
 the rests of the voice should be so arranged at the ter- 
 mination of each member of the sentence as to make 
 
 the breathing of the speaker easy, and that they should 
 14 
 
310 Body of the Discourse. 
 
 fall at such distances as to bear a certain musical pro- 
 portion to each other. This musical proportion, or 
 cadence, requires the greatest care and most skilful 
 management. It depends, probably, more ou the pos- 
 session of Avhat we call a musical ear, and a cultivated 
 taste, than on any technical rules, although I'hetoricians 
 lay down many rules on this matter which may l)e 
 studied with profit. We may assert as a general prin- 
 ci])lc that, in order to render our cadence perfect, the 
 h^ngest members and most sonorous words in our sen- 
 tence must be reserved for the conclusion. Amongst 
 our English classics not many are distinguished for 
 musical arrangement, or for any very laboured efforts 
 after mere harmony. We may safely affirm that no wri- 
 ter, ancient or modern, equals Cicero in the harmonious 
 structure and disposition of his periods, in the j^Iena 
 ac numerosa oratio. He studied this matter with a 
 care that perhaps was excessive, but with a success that 
 was complete and unequivocal. 
 
 Thus — without ever descending to vulgarity or for- 
 getting what is due to the dignity of the pulpit — by 
 a careful study of the manners, habits, and intellectual 
 calibre of those whom he is to address, so that, as far 
 as is possible, he may conceive his subject as they con- 
 ceive it, and render his ideas in those figures, compari- 
 sons, and turns of thought which are most familiar to 
 them, as being those which they tliemselves are accus- 
 tomed to employ ; by a discreet and practical appli- 
 
Instkuctioit. 211 
 
 cation of the simple rules which we have iudicated, 
 and which his own ever-growing experience will best 
 teach him how to apply to special circumstances and 
 to peculiar wants, the young preacher will obtain for 
 his discourse the essential quality of clearness. 
 
 In conclusion, we will only remark that, whilst the 
 preacher, m his instructions to his flock, will aim at 
 correctness and purity of language, he will also remem- 
 l^er that for him, as a preacher of the Gospel of Jesus 
 Christ, and in view of the special end which he must 
 necessarily propose to himself, there is something infi- 
 nitely more important than any mere correctness or 
 eleojance of lani»;uao;e. 
 
 Hence, whenever it may be necessary in order to I'en- 
 der himself better understood, he will not hesitate to 
 sacrifice the graces, and, in one sense, even the purity 
 of languao^e. Following the counsel of St. Auijustine, 
 he will study the most intelligible, rather than the most 
 elegaiit manner of expressing what he has to say. 
 EvidentioR appetitus aliquando negligit verba cuUiora, 
 nee curat quid bene sonet, sed quid bene indicet quod 
 ostendere intendit* For, as asks this holy doctor, 
 ■what is the use of expressing our ideas in the most 
 polished manner, of what use is the purity and elegance 
 of our style, if our hearers do not comprehend our mean- 
 ing ? Quid prodest locutionis integritas quam non 
 sequitur intellectus audientis ?i And he further illus- 
 * De Doct. Chiist. lib. iv^, 24. t Ibid. 
 
212 Body of the Discourse. 
 
 trates his meaning by a very ingenious comparison. 
 Quid prodest, he inquires, clavis aurea si aperire quod 
 volumus non potest, aut quid obest lignea si hoc 
 potest 9* 
 
 But, let the preacher bear in mind, whilst he strives 
 to follow these wise precepts in his practice, that this 
 stjde of speaking requires both intellect and skill. Let 
 him not delude himself by supposing that, in order to 
 speak with this perfect simplicity of language and of 
 style, he must therefore descend to what is low or un- 
 dignified. Ucec sic ornatum detrahit ut sordes non 
 contrahat. Letf him rather remember that in this, as 
 in many other cases, the perfection of art consists in 
 concealing art. Avs artis celare artem. It is of such 
 simple instruction as this that Cicero is speaking when 
 he says, Negligentia est diligens ;| and he says what 
 is most true, since this simple, and, at first sight, appa- 
 rently negligent manner of preaching indicates the man 
 who is more solicitous about the solid instruction which 
 he is to impart to his flock than abeyut the mere words 
 in which he is to express it ; the man who is much 
 more anxious about the interests of his Master, and the 
 welfare of his people, than his own gratifications as a 
 scholar, or his reputation as a preacher. 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to add that instruction re- 
 quires a plain, simple, and unadorned style. There 
 may be place for beautiful figures of speech, and pow- 
 
 * Ibid. t Dc Doct. Christ, lib. iv. 24. X Orat. Ixxvii 
 
Instruction. 213 
 
 eiful oratorical developments, in other pai-ts of a dis- 
 course ; but there is no room for them, and nothing 
 but the woi-st taste would seek to introduce them in 
 the purely explanatoiy and instructive portions of a 
 sermon. 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 THE MANNER OF PROVING THE CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE. 
 
 We have said -that the instruction which forms the 
 substantial poiiion of the body of a discourse com- 
 prises two things, viz., a clear explanation of Christian 
 doctrine, and the establishment of it by solid prools 
 and arguments. We have already shown that, although 
 there are cases in which nothing more than a simple 
 explanation and practical application of the Christian 
 doctrine is required, it is not sufficient, as an ordinary 
 rule, to explain the trutlis of religion. These truths 
 must be sustained by strong and convincing arguments. 
 In the last section we endeavoured to elucidate the 
 nature and the manner of imparting this necessary ex- 
 planation of Christian doctrine, and it now remains to 
 consider the mode accordino^ to which the argumentar 
 tiou, or sustaining of our proposition by solid proofs, 
 is to be conducted. 
 
 There are two principal methods employed by ora- 
 tors in the conduct of their argumentation, the analji^i- 
 
314 Body of the Discourse. 
 
 cal and the synthetical. When the orator conceals 
 his intention, and gradually leads his hearers on from 
 one known truth to another, until the conclusion ls 
 forced upon them as the natural consequence of a chain 
 of propositions, he nses the analytic method. For 
 example, wishing to prove the existence of God, the 
 preacher sets out by showing that whatever exists 
 must have had a beginning ; that wliatever had a 
 befjinnino; must have had a cause ; that man exists and 
 had a beginning, and that therefore he must have had 
 a cause ; but that, from his nature and constitution, 
 he could have l)een called into existence 1)}^ no other 
 than the one, great, infinite. Supreme First Cause, or, 
 God. This is a very artfid and very l^eautiful mode 
 of reasoning, but there are very few sulyects which 
 will admit it, and there are fewer occasions in which 
 the preacher will find it proper to employ it. The 
 mode of reasoning more fitly and generally adopted 
 by the pulpit orator is the synthetic, in which the 
 point or points to be proved are fairly and openly laid 
 down, and one argument after another is brought to 
 l>ear upon them until the hearer is fully and com- 
 pletely convinced. Thus, in a sermon the preacher 
 openly lays down, in his preposition, the one great 
 Christian truth which he intends to carry home to the 
 hearts of his hearei-s, and, then, in his division, he un- 
 folds the different points of view under which he pro- 
 poses to consider and establish this truth. 
 
Argumentatiox. 215 
 
 It is evident that the eftect of an argument depends 
 upon the tact with Avhich it is chosen, the slvill with 
 which it is brought to bear at the most felicitous 
 moment, and the force witli wliich it is urged, or, in 
 other words, amp] i lied. Hence, we hiy down, and 
 now proceed to establish the general principle, that 
 the excellency of this most essential part of a discourse 
 may be said to depend on three points, the invention 
 and selection of ar(/uments, the due arrangement of 
 them, and their amplification. 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 SELECTION OF ARGUMENTS. 
 
 By the invention and selection of arguments we un- 
 derstand the collection of a certain number of solid 
 and convincing proofs, whether they be the fruit of 
 our own intellect, or whether they be gleaned fi'om 
 approved sources, bearing upon the matter in hand — 
 the truth to be established. Ever keeping in mind 
 how essential solid argument is to every really good 
 discourse, since, although he may not absolutely win 
 the hearts of his hearers by it, it is the foundation up- 
 on which all his ulterior efforts in the way of pei-sua- 
 sion are to be built, the preacher will probably be as- 
 sisted in his selection of proofe by attending to a few 
 simple and practical rules which we venture to sug- 
 gest. 
 
216 Body of the Discourse. 
 
 1. He ought never to select and advance from the 
 pulpit any argument which he does not feel to be 
 really solid. The preacher forgets his high calling, 
 and the dignity of the Gospel which he preaches, 
 when he endeavours to sustain it by a weak or foolish 
 argument. There is no truth of our holy Faith which 
 is not supported by the most powerful aud convincing 
 arguments, and if a preacher does not bring forward 
 these proofs it is either because he has not taken the 
 trouble to study the matter on which he thus presumes 
 to speak without preparation; or, because he has for- 
 gotten his theology. 
 
 The very least that we expect in a preacher is an 
 accurate and expedite knowledge of moral theology, 
 and of the Catechism of the Council of Trent. With 
 such a knowledge he can never go astray in teaching, 
 nor will he ever be under the necessity of advancing a 
 weak or foolish argument in support, or, to speak 
 more truly, in derision, of our sublime and holy Faith. 
 
 If he have never acquired this necessary knowledge 
 he most certainly is not in a position to enter the pul- 
 pit, or take upon himself the oifice of teacher in mat- 
 tei's so holy in themselves, and so momentous in their 
 consequences, where the propounder of ftilse doctrine, 
 or the unsound teacher, may be the cause of perdition 
 to many souls. 
 
 If he have not taken the trouble to keep up the 
 knowledge which he acquired during the years of his 
 
Arqumentatiojs^. 217 
 
 ecclesiastical pioluition, with so much pains and hard 
 study on his own part, and with so much assiduous 
 care and zealous watchfulness on the part of his mas- 
 tei-s, he has good reason to tremble, when in his culpa- 
 ble ignorance he ascends the pulpit, lest he incur the 
 terrible denunciation, Maledictus qui facit opus Dei 
 negligentur* 
 
 The preacher who advances a weak or foolish argu- 
 ment, exposes our Holy Faith to the derision of the 
 impious who readily discover its unsoundness, whilst, 
 at the same time, they suppose or persuade themselves 
 that the other dogmas of our religion rest upon an 
 equally rotten foundation. Such an argument is the 
 ruin of a sermon, since one false or foolish proof lays 
 the whole discourse open to suspicion ; it inspires our 
 hearei*s with a contempt for ourselves and our doctrine, 
 and it is very frequently the only part which the}' 
 retain and of wliich they speak. Better and more 
 becoming a thousand times, not to attempt to advance 
 arguments in support of the eternal truths of God, if 
 we are not able to bring forward such as are solid in 
 themselves, and worthy of the Gospel which we are 
 privileged to preach. 
 
 2. The preacher should not endeavour to crowd into 
 one sermon of half-an-hour's duration all the proofs 
 which can be brought to bear upon the matter which 
 he treats. It is vastly better to select those which, 
 
 * Jerem. xlviii, 10. 
 
218 Body of the Discoukse. 
 
 2)0sifis jponendis, he considers the best for his purpose, 
 without troubling himself about the others. As we 
 have just said, it is impossible to compress Avithin the 
 limits of one sermon all the proofs which may be ad- 
 duced in support of any truth, doctrinal or moral. 
 The preacher who may attempt to do so, can at the 
 best but merely glance at his arguments without enter- 
 ing thoroughly into any one of them ; and, thus treat- 
 ing them, he will produce a much weaker impression, 
 and do less towards convincing his hearers, than if he 
 had confined himself to a few good arguments and 
 dcA'cloped them in a more masterly and more com- 
 plete manner. Moreover, there are comparatively few 
 in an ordinary congregation, who are able to follow a 
 long series of arguments and demonstrations. Even 
 supposing that an audience were able to follow the 
 preacher, such a course of proceeding would neces- 
 esarily render a sermon dry and uninteresting. Direc- 
 ting his discoui-se entirely to the head, the preacher 
 would leave no room for those powerful appeals to 
 the heart which move the will, carry it captive, and 
 render it pliant to his purpose. 
 
 3. The preacher ought to take great care to select 
 those proofs which are not merely best in themselves, 
 but l^est relatively to his audience, and to prefer those 
 which they Avill seize most easily, which will interest 
 them the most powerfully, and produce the greatest 
 impression npon them. 
 
Argumentation'. 219 
 
 It is a very great mistake to suppose that the proof 
 which is strongest j;p?" se, is always, therefore, the 
 strongest, rclafe ad audilorem. It requires no words 
 to show that if an argument be above the capacity of 
 one's hearei*s, or if it be calcuhited from its natm'e to 
 make no impression upon theip, it will be weak, fruit- 
 less, and ineffective in their regard, no matter how 
 strong it may be in itself. For example, the meta- 
 phj^sical argnment for the existence of God which is 
 derived from the necessity of a fii'st cause is most solid 
 and miansAveral)le in itself, and yet any one can see 
 that it would l)e useless if addressed, in its purely 
 metaphysical shape, to an audience of simple and un- 
 learned persons, from the very fact that it would be 
 above their comprehension. 
 
 The preacher, and the young one especially, should 
 therefore be on his guard against that natural impulse 
 which inclines us to believe that othei's, although sim- 
 ple and unlettered, will easily seize those arguments 
 which appear so plain and conclusive to us. He should 
 be equally on his guard against employing profound 
 arguments, or uncommon and far-fetched proofs, when 
 addressing unlearned persons, such as form the majority 
 of all ordinary congregations. His feeling should 
 always incline towards the more common and ordinary 
 arguments in favour of any doctrine. They are pretty 
 certain to be the best and most powerful when con- 
 sidered relatively to an audience. They have become 
 
220 ■ Body or the Discourse. 
 
 couiniou simply because they are so true, and a con- 
 gregation always listens to them with pleasure and 
 profit, especially when the preacher takes the pains to 
 present them in a pleasing and attractive manner. 
 
 4. In order to convince himself of the relative 
 strength of his argu mentis, the preacher ought to ask 
 himself whether, if they were proposed coolly and 
 calmly in' ordinary conversation, they would produce 
 the effect which he desires ; and Avhether, if he were 
 in the place of the sinner whom he seeks to convert, 
 he himself would be converted by his own arguments. 
 If they will bear this test he may safely and confidently 
 adopt them. 
 
 Whilst treating of this veiy important matter, the 
 selection of arguments, we may earnestly recommend 
 to the attention of the young preacher the method 
 which was adopted on this point by the great oratt)r 
 MiUssillon. " When," he says, •' I have to preach a 
 sermon, I imagine that some one has consulted me on 
 a matter of very grave importance on Avhicli he and I 
 do not agree. I apply, therefore, all the powers of 
 my intellect and my heart to convince and to persuade 
 him, I press him, I exhort him, and I do not leave 
 him until I have fairly and completely gained him to 
 my side." Admirable words, and full of practical wis- 
 dom ! Imitating the example of this great orator, this 
 master in Israel, the preacher ought, when selecting 
 his arguments, to imagine himself face to face with 
 
Argumentation^. 231 
 
 some one who is deeply imbued with false ideas, or in- 
 exact notions, on the matter which he is about to treat. 
 He applies himself, in the first place, to explain the 
 matter in hand so clear};)' that it cannot possibly be 
 misunderstood. Then he proceeds to advance his argu- 
 ments, frequently asking himself. Is this proof solid, is 
 it clear, is it unanswerable ? Is it adapted to the 
 understanding of my adversary' ? "Will he compre- 
 hend it ? What difficulty can he advance against it, 
 and how shall I answer him fully and triumphantly ? 
 Will he, as a reasonable and honest man, be obliged 
 to admit the force of my arguments ? When the 
 preacher can give to himself a satisfactory answer on 
 all these points he may be satisfied with the choice of 
 arguments which he has made ; and rest assured that 
 if he employ them with a pure intention, and advance 
 them with simple, earnest zeal, they will he powerful 
 instruments in his hands for procuring the glory of 
 God and the salvation of inmioi-tal souls, the end and 
 aim, as we have frequently remarked, of all his labours 
 and of all his preaching. 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 ARRANGEMENT OF ARGUMENTS. 
 
 Supposing our arguments properly chosen, it is evi- 
 dent that their due effect will depend in a great meas- 
 ure upon the manner in which they are arranged. If 
 
222 Body of the Discourse. 
 
 (hey be not placed in clue order, if they jostle or eni- 
 1 )uirass one another, if they do not at all bear directly 
 and with the fullest weight upon the subject in debate, 
 it is clear that much:of theii* effect will be lost. The 
 .strength of an army does not depend so much upon 
 the number of soldiers which it contains as upon the 
 skill with which they are disposed and arranged. In 
 the same way, oiu' arguments must be arranged, com- 
 bined, and disposed, so as to form one perfect whole, 
 having for its end the perfect development and estab- 
 lishment of one great leading truth. 
 
 It is not so easy, however, to lay down specific rules 
 for the arrangement of arguments, as it is to prove the 
 necessity of such an order ; since the effect of their 
 arrangement depends, not merely ujjon the matter of 
 the arguments themselves, but upon an infinite numl)er 
 of circumstances which cannot be foreseen. Peculiar 
 circumstances may have such an influence upon the 
 arrangement of one's proofs, that it may sometimes be 
 expedient to commence a discoui-ib with arguments 
 which, according to received rules, should be placed 
 at the conclusion. Whilst, therefore, we proceed to 
 lay down some general rules on this matter, we take it 
 for granted that these rules must suffer many excep- 
 tions, and that on this point, more perhaps than any 
 other, much must be left to the good sense and expe- 
 rience of the preacher. 
 
 1. As an ordinaiy rule, the order of our proofs will 
 
AllGUMENTATIO^r. 223 
 
 be suggested by the very nature of the subject whicli 
 Ave treat. In a sermon, too, the preacher advances in 
 the fii-st place the arguments which will help his hear- 
 ei"s to understand and appreciate the full force of those 
 Avhich are to follow. He passes from what is more 
 general to what is particular, from the genus to the 
 species, from that which is easy to that Avhich is diffi- 
 cult, from the known to the unknown. 
 
 Nature herself suggests to us to group together those 
 arguments which appertain to the same order, and 
 which, being comprised in the same general idea, tend 
 to the same end. It is coutraiy Ijoth to good sense 
 and to order, to pass from one line of arguments to 
 another, and then return after a while to the first. 
 For example, it is contrary to good order to establish 
 our point in the first place by proofs from authority, 
 then to proceed to proofs from reason, returning in 
 the end to arguments from authority. Thus, if we 
 were treating of any virtue or vice, it would be essen- 
 tially out of order to speak fii-st of its obligation, then 
 of its eliects, and lastly, to return to the proofs for its 
 obligation. We must take each point in due order, 
 as ex. g.^ the necessity of humility, and its utility as 
 shown in the advantages which it brings to man, peace 
 Avith God, Avith his neighbour, and himself; and 
 liaA'ing sufficiently proved each point, we must pass on 
 to the next Avithout returning to that Avhich has been 
 already established. 
 
224 Body of the Discoukse. 
 
 Whilst nature hei-self suggests to us to group to- 
 gether those arguments which are in the same order, 
 she points out with equal clearness the impropriety of 
 l^lencling those which are of a separate nature. All 
 arguments tend to prove one or other of three things, 
 That something is triie^ that it is morally rigJit and 
 just, or that it is profitable and good, since these are 
 the three great principles by which mankind is gov- 
 erned — truth, duty, and interest. At the same time, 
 the arguments for establishing these o-reat motives of 
 action are generically distinct, and, as they are ad- 
 dressed to different principles in human nature, should 
 be kept separate and distinct in reasoning ; and not, 
 as is often the case in sermons, be confusedly blended 
 under one general topic. If, for example, I am preach- 
 ing on the love of my neighbour, I may take my first 
 argument from the inward satisfaction which a benev- 
 olent temper aflbrds, my second from the obligation 
 Av^hich Christ imposes upon us of loving our neigh- 
 bour, and my third from its tendency to procure us 
 the good will of those around us. My arguments are 
 good in themselves, but, according to Dr. Blair, I 
 have arranged them wrongly. My first and third are 
 taken from considerations of interest, and between 
 these I have introduced one which rests solelj^ upon 
 duty, thus rendering my reasoning obscure and con- 
 fused. 
 
 2. The second thiuij to be obseiTed in the order of 
 
Argumentation. 225 
 
 arguments is to dispose them in such a manner that, 
 as far as possible, the discourse may continually ad- 
 vance in strength by way of climax, id augeatur semper 
 et inci'escal oralio ; that each proof may excel that 
 which preceded it ; that the concluding ones may be 
 the strongest, the best adapted to move our hearers, to 
 leave them without reply — the subjects of an intimate 
 and profound conviction. 
 
 Some rhetoricians assign the followino; order of 
 proofs — Fortiora, Fortra, Fortissima. They suppose 
 the argumenta fortia to be somewhat weak and feel)le, 
 and so place them between the strong arguments with 
 which the orator should commence, and those still 
 more powerful ones with Avhich he should conclude 
 his discourse. 
 
 It may be well doubted whether the Christian orator 
 is ever under the necessity of employing any argu- 
 ments except those which are Forliora and Fortissima, 
 but if it ever be necessary or expedient to use such as 
 are less strong, less conclusive, or merely suasory, the 
 aljove is certainly the order in which they should be 
 arranged. 
 
 In any case, the preacher i-eserves his most telling- 
 arguments for the conclusion of his discourse, since 
 the last impressions remain most vividly impressed 
 upon the minds of his hearers, and since this is the 
 decisive moment of the argumentative conflict. Now 
 
 or never is he to gain his victory. By a succession of 
 15 
 
236 Body of the Discourse. 
 
 l^owerfiil and telling proofs he has l)een gradually 
 gaining upon his hearers, gradually preparing the Avay 
 for complete and unequivocal conviction, and, now, 
 like a skilful general, he comes in at the decisive mo- 
 ment with all the force of his last and most unanswer- 
 able argument, and cari'ies all before him. 
 
 And not only must the preacher most carefully 
 follow this form of argumentation as regards the 
 various proofs l^y which he may estaljlish any one 
 point of his discourse, but also as regards the points 
 themselves. The strongest and most telling point 
 must 1)0 placed the last. 
 
 Nor must he lose sight of what we have already 
 sufficiently dwelt upon m another place — viz., that on 
 all these matters we speak not absolutely but relatively. 
 Hence, in the plan of a discourse at page 101, he will 
 see that we have put in the tirst place the argument 
 deduced from the views of God, and in the last, that 
 derived from the sentiments of different classes of men 
 at the hour of death. Now, the argument from the 
 views of God is j9er se a much stronger argument than 
 the one derived from the sentiments of the dying, and 
 yet we have put this in the last place because being, 
 in some measure, an argumentum ad hominem, it pos- 
 sesses a much greater relative force, and if well devel- 
 oped will produce a much more powerful effect, simply 
 because it is so much more sensible. In the same 
 way, although the proofs which rest on the Divine 
 
Argumentation. 227 
 
 Authority arc naturally stronger than those Avliich 
 are derived from reason or example, it does not ahvays 
 folloAV that they are to be put in the last place, simply 
 because there are many circumstances in which, al- 
 tliough stronger in themselves, they are less efiective 
 than those other arguments which, although essen- 
 tially weaker, have a more immediate and telling 
 influence upon the heart of man. 
 
 Hence, the order so generally followed in arranging 
 our proofs : — 1. From Iloh^ Scripture, or the Divine 
 Authority. 2. From the Fathers, as explaining, or 
 commenting on the meaning of Scripture, etc, etc. 
 3. From the motives furnished by reason : as the utility 
 and advantages of vii-fue, or the evil consequences of 
 the contrary vice. 4. From examples and comparisons : 
 as illustrating the matter and rendering it more practical 
 and sensible. 5. From the answers to any objectioris 
 Avhich the preacher may think fit to advance. This is 
 the order, which we are inclined, ommbns jjensatifi, to 
 consider the most useful, and it is that which is most 
 generally followed. It is that recommended by Father 
 Lohner, no mean authority on the matter, who thus 
 speaks of it. IJcvc meihodus, uti, darissima et facil- 
 Iima, ita pro jplehe instruenda aptissinia est* It is 
 also the one recommended by St. Francis de Sales. 
 
 Canon Bellefroid, in his erudite and elegant work, f 
 seems to prefer an order which differs somewhat from 
 * De munere concionaudi. t Mamiel d' Eloquence Sacree. 
 
228 Body of the Discourse. 
 
 the above. " It will be found useful ," he writes, "to 
 employ, in the firet place, proofs from reason. These 
 kind of proofs are adapted to the capacity of all the 
 world, and they prepare the way for the authorities 
 which we intend to invoke. Next will follow Holy 
 Scripture, which, in seeming to make some concession 
 to reason, will really subjugate and gain it to the side 
 of the Divine Authority. As there may be some 
 ambiguity or obscurity of meaning in the texts which 
 are quoted, we introduce the testimony of the Fathers, 
 who are at once the most natural and the most authori- 
 tative interpretei-s of Holy Writ. Finally, we in- 
 troduce examples which may help to confirm the 
 doctrine which we have laid down, render it more 
 striking, and encom-age our hearei"s to reduce it to 
 practice by placing attractive and engaging models 
 before their eyes. The order, then, followed b}^ Bel- 
 lefroid, and it is also that of Pere Caussin the Jesuit, 
 is — 1. Proofs from reason. 2. From Scripture. 3. 
 From the Fathers. 4. Examples. 
 
 It is probably a matter of very little consequence 
 which of these arrangements the preacher may adopt. 
 As we have just remarked, we are inclined to prefer 
 the former as an ordinary rule. It is scarcely neces- 
 sary to add that this arrangement is equally applicable 
 to the discourse which contains a formal division, as to 
 that which merely aspires to the establishment of the 
 general proposition which may be laid down wtliout 
 
ARGUMENTATIOJf. 229 
 
 any attempt to divide it into its component pai-ts. For 
 example, if the disconrse be not divided into " points," 
 the general proposUion may be proved from Scripture, 
 the Fathers, reason illustrated by examples, etc., etc., 
 and, then the 1st Point of ^e semion will be proofs 
 from Scripture, etc., and the 2nd Point, proofs from 
 reason, etc. If the proposition be divided, then each 
 point may be established in precisely the same order, 
 the only difference being, that, when there are several 
 points to be proved, the various arguments will not, 
 of course, bear the same amount of development as 
 when the preacher has simply to sustain the proposi- 
 tion in its general aspect, without any relation to those 
 special bearings which are brought out in a division. 
 
 We have said that our arguments may be arranged 
 in this order, but let not the young preacher suppose 
 that he is therefore always bound to prove his propo- 
 sition, or the points into which he may divide his 
 discourse, from Scripture, the Fathers, reason, etc. It 
 may sometimes be quite sufficient to establish his point 
 from Scripture alone, or from Tradition, or from 
 reason. It is difficult, as we remarked at the com- 
 mencement of this section, to lay do^^^l any specific 
 rules on this matter, since it is impossible to draw up 
 any rules which will meet all the circumstances of the 
 case. We have done all that was in our power, viz., 
 to glance at those general principles on which all are 
 agreed, and we must leave their special application to 
 
230 Body of the Discourse. 
 
 the good sense, the watchful zeal, and the evergrowing 
 experience of the pastor of souls. 
 
 All that remains to be said on this matter is, that, 
 after having arranged the order of his proofs, the 
 preacher must take care to connect them naturally one 
 with another, so that they may constitute the integral 
 and well-arranged members of a body whose special 
 characteristic is unity. This connection which binds 
 one proof to another, one part of a discourse to another, 
 is known by the name of " Transition. " Transition is 
 that form of expression, or that turn of thought, which 
 the preacher employs in order that he may pass natu- 
 rally, without violence or abruptness, from one sul)ject 
 to another, from one argument to another. This natu- 
 ral transition is of the utmost importance, since, with- 
 out it, a discom'se is nothing more than a hash, com- 
 posed of various parts which approach without ever 
 luiiting, which succeed one another without following.* 
 The most excellent transitions are those which spring 
 from the verj' essence of the suliject itself, and have an 
 equal relation to that which the preacher has said as 
 to that which he is about to stiy. 
 
 " Transitions, which are only built on the mechanism 
 of the style, and merely consist in a fictitious connec- 
 tion l)etween the last word of the paragraph which 
 finishes, and the first word of the sentence which 
 begins, cannot, with propriety, l)e admitted as natural, 
 * Yau Hemel. Precis de Ehetorique Sacree. 
 
Argumentation'. 231 
 
 but are rather forced coni))iiiations. True rhetorical 
 tran.sitions are such as follow the course of the rciison- 
 ing, or sentiment, with ease, almost without art, and 
 iu)perceived by the hearer ; such as unite the materials 
 of the discourse, instead of merely suspending some 
 phrases upon each other ; such as bind the Avliole to- 
 gether, without obliging the preacher to compose a 
 new exordimn to each subdivision which his plan ex- 
 hibits 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 associa- 
 tion ; such, in fine, as meditation produces by suggest- 
 ing valuable thoughts, not such as the pen furnishes 
 m its search after combined reseml)lances."* 
 
 Massillon, in his sermon on the charity of the great, 
 thus passes from the first part of his discourse to the 
 second. " If,'' says he, " charity towards the people 
 is the first duty of the great, is it not also the greatest 
 luxury of tliek greatness ?" Instead of searching for 
 some intermediate idea b}'- which to pass from one 
 point of the discourse to another, as a less skilful ora- 
 tor would have done, he makes use of the very funda- 
 mental idea of the whole discourse for this jjurpose. 
 Arguments connected l)y skilful Transitions are, accord- 
 ing to Cicero, like stones so thoroughly polished that 
 * Maury. 
 
233 Body of the Discoukse. 
 
 they unite without the aid of cement. A discourse 
 wliose parts are thus skilfully united reseuibles a work 
 of art which is cast in one piece, where the eye looks 
 in vain for seam or joint. As the object of these Tran- 
 sitions is to enable the preacher to pass gracefully and 
 without violence from one argument or point to another, 
 it follows that the more natural they are the more etfec- 
 tually they will attain their end. 
 
 SECTION VI. 
 
 AMPLIFICATION OF ARGUMENTS, ITS NATURE AND NECES- 
 SITY. SOURCES OF AMPLIFICATION : SACRED SCRIP- 
 TURE ; THE FATHERS ; THEOLOGY, SCHOLASTIC AND 
 ASCETIC ; COMPARISONS, EXAMPLES, AND PARABLES; 
 REASON. EXAMPLES. , 
 
 Although the effect of our reasoning depends veiy 
 much upon the due selection and arrangement of our 
 arguments, it depends still more upon their amplifica- 
 tion, or, in other words, upon the force, vigour, beauty, 
 and practical application, with which they are put. 
 
 The student will see at a glance that " pure reason- 
 ing," and " amplification," although most strictly con- 
 nected, are not jirecisely one and the same thing. The 
 latter is a development of the former. United, they 
 present truth in its strongest and most engaging col- 
 oui"S, and in such a manner as to bring it home, not 
 only to the understanding, but also to the heart. 
 
Argumentation. 233 
 
 Rejisoning embraces all sorts of questions, and all 
 sorts of diseoui-scs, and reduces everything to a syllo- 
 gism. Amplification comes into play when it is not 
 merely sufficient to form a good argument, but when 
 it is equally necessary to form it in such a manner, and 
 to express it in such language, as will render it intelli- 
 gible to the persons to whom it is addressed, and j^ow- 
 erfal for the purpose which the speaker proposes to 
 himself in employing it. 
 
 Reasoning addresses itself simply to the understand- 
 ing, and has no other object than to convince. Ampli- 
 fication addresses itself to the heart as well, and seeks 
 to influence and act upon the Avill, thus partaking of 
 the nature both of conviction and persuasion. 
 
 It is quite certain that every good argument is reduci- 
 ble to a syllogism, but it is equally certain that the ora- 
 tor must disouise the naked skeleton, the form of his 
 argument, under the beauties of language. The syllo- 
 jlism holds the same relation to a discoui-se as the bones 
 and muscles do to the human body. These, if seen in 
 their nakedness, present a repulsive spectacle, and the 
 syllogism, although containing the form of a vigorous 
 argument, is simply distasteful and loathsome when 
 presented to an audience in its logical dryness, and its 
 uninviting plainness. 
 
 Putting pei*suasion altogether out of the question, it 
 would be simply impossible to get an audience to fol- 
 low that succession of dry, sharp, conclusive syllogisms 
 
234 Body of the Discoukse. 
 
 Avhich would be the glory of a logician. Being luader 
 the painful necessity of following the diseonrse with an 
 attention at full strain, since, if one link of the chain 
 of reasoning be lost the whole aro-unient is irretrieva- 
 bly gone, they would soon give up attempting to fol- 
 low at all ; whilst there would be many who, spite of 
 their deepest attention, would not be able to compre- 
 hend the drift or bearing of an argument conducted in 
 this manner. The discourse being thus rendered unin- 
 telligible to many, and unpardonably dry to all, would 
 become altogether useless and without fruit. We may 
 express, and fully announce a great leading truth in 
 even a single sjdlogism, liut the force of an argument 
 thus expressed would most surely escape the compre- 
 hension of any ordinary congregation, unless it were 
 explained and developed ; or, in other words, ampli- 
 fied. The germ of the argument ought to be contained 
 in, or, at least, be easily reducible to a syllogism, but 
 it is the duty of the rhetorician, in contradistinction to 
 the logician, to develop this germ, and, by the aid of 
 language and the resources of oratory, to render it not 
 merely intelligible, but plejising and attractive to all. 
 
 This is what is understood by the amplification of * 
 arguments, and, hence, it is no wonder that the great 
 masters of oratory attach so much importance to it. 
 Una laus et propria oratorio, says Cicero, summalaus 
 eloquentice, amplijicare rem ornando. 
 
 Amplification is the great means of rendering argu- 
 
Argumentation". 235 
 
 mcnt telling aiul effective. Instruct loii exposes an obli- 
 gation, a dry proof establishes it, while aniplitication ex- 
 plains its nature, its grandeur and its claims. Auipliti- 
 cation acts upon a proposition like rain upon the seed, 
 causing it to grow and to develop itself. Amplification 
 renders clear and intelligible that which before was 
 perhaps scarcely perceptible. It throws light upon 
 all the parts of a discourse, by bringing them out under 
 different aspects and different points of view, giving 
 warmth to what Avas cold, and life to what -was dead. 
 It is true to say that hy amplification arguments are 
 really explained and rendered intelligible, that they are 
 proved and made to penetrate the heart, realizing the 
 truth of the principle advanced 1)}- Quintillian when 
 he affirms, that the real strength of the orator is shown 
 in the force with which he can amplify and develop 
 his arguments. 
 
 From all this it sufficiently^ follows, how much the 
 success of a preacher depends, not only upon his pow- 
 ers of reasoning correctly, but of reasoning strongl}* 
 and vigorously, of bringing his argimient before his 
 hearers not only in its truest, l)ut also in its most at- 
 tractive light, and adorned with all those graces which 
 can be imparted to it by vivid conception, by brilliant 
 images and ideas, and by chaste and polished language. 
 
 Let the young preacher, therefore, aspire to reason 
 closely and well ; but let him also aspire to reason 
 w^ith eleo^ance and vigour. Let him strive his utmost 
 
236 Body of the Discouese. 
 
 to sain such a command of laniruao'e as will enable 
 him to clothe his reasons in the most just and beauti- 
 ful terms ; to present them in all their varied aspects 
 to his people ; to shield them under the authority of 
 God's word ; to render them sensible 1>y comparisons 
 and examples ; to support them by arguments ad 
 hominem, as his experience and prudence shall suggest 
 to him. Everything which serves to cultivate his 
 taste, elevate his style, and i-ender him a man of pure 
 mind and of deep feelings, will sei"ve to cultivate and 
 develop his powers of amplification. 
 
 Whilst, however, the young preacher will certainly 
 av=!pire to this faculty of amplification, he will at the 
 same time be discreet in its employment. In the fii-st 
 place, he will never use it except to render his dis- 
 coui'se more clear, more solid, or more effective. If 
 his idea be already sufficiently developed, and suffi- 
 ciently intelligible to his flock, it would be worse than 
 useless to spend time in amplifying it. The truth 
 would be simply smothered under a superfluity of 
 expression, and obscurity instead of greater clearness 
 would be the result. And, hence it is, that a great 
 facility of speaking is often a very fatal gift. 
 
 Secondly, he will amplify, not by merely heaping 
 together empty words and meaningless phrases, but by 
 multiplying the sense *nd adding something new to 
 what he has already said. This is true amplifica- 
 tion, and it is very diflerent from that which con- 
 
Argumentatiojst. 237 
 
 sists in repeating the same idea in almost synonymous 
 terms. 
 
 Thirdly, he will amplily in such a manner that his 
 discourse may continually increase in force, that, as he 
 advances, it may become more clear, more animated, 
 more strong and energetic. 
 
 Fourthly, he will do well to follow the example of 
 ]\Iassillon, who used to imagine that his adversary was 
 present, and to study to arrange all his amplification 
 in such a manner as to pursue him with all the force 
 of his refison and with all the vehemence of his zeal, 
 until he was completely gained and won to the side 
 of virtue. 
 
 Premising that our remarks are equally applicable 
 to that vei'bal amplification of proofs which consists in 
 words, as to that real amplification which is founded 
 either in climax, in the amplification of comparisons 
 and examples, or in the consideration of the circum- 
 stances of the subject ; and begging the student to 
 bear in mind the principles laid down at page 80 when 
 treating of " The Meditation and Conception of om- 
 Subject," we will now In-iefly consider the leading 
 sources whence the preacher is to draw, as well his 
 proofs themselves, as his ideas and his matter for their 
 amplification, and these may be reduced to two — viz., 
 the loci communes of preaching, and the loci communes 
 of rhetoric. 
 
 By the loci communes of preaching we uudei-stand 
 
238 Body of the Discouese. 
 
 the Sacred Scripture, the writings of the Fathers, and 
 the acts of Councils, together with all those works of 
 scholastic and ascetic theology which form the over- 
 flowing fountain whence the preacher can ahvays draw, 
 and where he can never fail to find ample matter with 
 Avhich to instruct and to move on all those g-reat sub- 
 jects which he will most frequently be called to treat ; 
 such as the importance of salvation, death, judgment, 
 heaven and hell, the love of God and the passion of 
 Jesus Christ, the general considerations upon the l3ene- 
 fits of God, the virtues and vices, the sacraments, 
 prayer, etc., etc. Premising too, that the loci com- 
 munes of preaching correspond to the " Extrinsic 
 Sources or Topics" of the rhetorician, and the loci 
 communes or rhetoric to the " Intrinsic Sources or 
 Topics," we now proceed to devote a few words to the 
 consideration of these loci, as they are technically 
 called. 
 
 It does not require many words to prove that the 
 Holy Scripture must always be the preacher's great 
 resource, the storehouse ever full of the most useful 
 and sublime matter which he can require. Indeed, 
 his preaching is but a development of this Divine book, 
 an explanation of the word of God. Prcedica verbum, 
 says the great apostle of the Gentiles. Being, as he 
 is, the ambassador of God to men, it is fitting that the 
 preacher should receive from that God Himself the 
 word Avhicli he is charged to carry to them ; a messen- 
 
Argumentation. 339 
 
 ger from heaven, it is becoming that he speak in its 
 language. This word of God, this hmguage of heaven, 
 * is contained in Holy "Writ, and it is just in proportion 
 as the preacher makes it the foundation of his dis- 
 course that he has a right to say with St. Paul, In rue 
 JoquUur Christum. . . Posuit in nobis verbum recon- 
 ciliationis. . . Deo exiiortante per nos* 
 
 The word of man is at best but dead, and incapable 
 of brino-ino- foilh fruit unto salvation ; but the word 
 of God is full of life, containing within itself a hidden 
 virtue which persuades and moves. It is, as the Holy 
 Ghost expresses it, a tire which inflames the most insen- 
 sible, a hammer which rends the heart that is as hard 
 as the very rock, a sword Avhich penetrates even into 
 the most hidden parts of the soul. 
 
 Experience ampl}- proves that there is a special grace 
 attached to' the Avords of Holy Writ, and that the 
 truths which the preacher builds upon some text of 
 Scripture, the bearing of which he has intimately mas- 
 tered and powerfully developed, are those which pro- 
 duce the greatest impression and remain longest in the 
 minds of the hearers. 
 
 But, if Holy Scripture be thus useful to an audience, 
 how much more precious is it to the preacher himself ? 
 The apostle tells us that it is equally useful for all the 
 ends of preaching, whether it be for the establishing 
 of do2::ma or the explainino; of the mysteries of the 
 
 *2 Cor. V. 19. 
 
340 Body of the Discourse. 
 
 Faith, for the developing of moral or the destruction 
 of vice. Omnis scriplura divinitus inspiriia, uiilis est 
 ad docendum, ad arguendwn, ad corrijpiendum, ad 
 erudiendum in fmttfta, ut perfectus sit honio Dei, ad 
 omne opus bonum instructus* 
 
 St. Augustine assures us tliat the preacher will excel 
 in the ministry of the word in proportion as he is a 
 master of Holy Scripture. Sajnenter dicet tanto magis 
 vel minus, quanta in scrijjturis Sanctis magis minusve 
 profecit.\ 
 
 In eiFect, the word of God imparts to the language 
 of the sacred orator an authority and a force which it 
 can never derive from any other source. As man natu- 
 rally carries in his heart, together witli the idea of the 
 divinity, a deep veneration for it, so the consecrated 
 style of the holy wiitings imparts to a discourse a 
 touching majesty which inspires us with virtuous senti- 
 ments, and which commands our respect and submis- 
 sion all the more effectually, because it ol)liges us to 
 love the truth which is preached. The unction of the 
 Holy Ghost flows like a sweet odour upon those sacred 
 writings. The love of God, devotion to his service, 
 charity towards our neighbour, and forgetfulness of 
 self; in a word, all the most tender, the most sublime, 
 and the most holy affections which can animate the 
 boul of man, spring from them like a fragrant perfume, 
 We cannot read these sacred pages without feeling a 
 
 * 2 Tim. iii. 16, 17. t De Doct. Chiist., lib. iv, 5. 
 
Argumentatiok. 241 
 
 deep love for their Author, and an ardent desire of 
 fulfilling His holy precepts, and it is easy to recognize 
 the preacher who is penetrated with their spirit by the 
 unction which flows so sweetly from his lips. 
 
 As we have shown in a former part of this work, 
 whatever subject he may have to treat, the preacher 
 Avho is Avell versed in the Scriptures will there lind 
 something with which to embellish his matter, to 
 render it more touching and full of interest. Not only 
 will he there find examples suit^ible to every condition 
 and state of life, as Joseph, Ruth, Job, Jeremiah, the 
 Machabees, Abraham, David, Saul, etc. ; but he will 
 also discover the most magnificent figures of speech, 
 and the highest flights which oratory has ever attained, 
 strewn over its pages as thickly as the stars in the 
 firmament of heaven. These beauties of the Sacred 
 Writings, the.se fruits of the inspiration of the Holy 
 Ghost, soar immeasurabl}' above the loftiest eflbits (jf 
 l)rofane orators and poets, and furnish the preacher 
 who knows how to avail himself of them, with an in- 
 exhaustible store of matter by the aid of which he can, 
 with the greatest facility, impart life and warmth, 
 energy and strength, to his discourse. 
 
 Hence, we see that the Holy Fathers ha^'e alwaj's 
 
 regarded the Scripture as the principal soiuce whence 
 
 the preacher is to draw matter for the amplification of 
 
 his arguments. What they taught in this regard they 
 
 first practised themselves. They made these Divine 
 16 
 
242 Body of the Discoukse. 
 
 Writings the subject of their continual study. In them 
 they found the substance of their most solid instructions. 
 They developed the histories which are contained in 
 the Bible, and explained its difficulties. They applied 
 its lessons to all the duties of the Christian life, and 
 when they washed to treat of a virtue or a vice, it was 
 thence they drew their most powerful motives for the 
 practice of the one and the avoiding of the other. In 
 the Sacred Scripture Bourdaloue finds his strongest 
 arguments, Bossuet his most telling comparisons and 
 his most lively images, Massillon the matter for his 
 most beautiful and striking developments. 
 
 In one word, it is an incontestable truth, that the 
 Sciipture has been the sacred mine w^hence the greatest 
 writers and preachers whom the world has seen have 
 derived their choicest matter. From the pi'ophets they 
 have drawn the feeling and the pathos, and from the 
 historical books the edifying histories which grace 
 their discourses. In the Psalms they have discovered 
 the most lively and affecting sentiments of piety, in 
 tlie Book of Wisdom the wisest rules of morality and 
 conduct, and in the Gospels the holiest precepts and 
 counsels of perfection. 
 
 To the same source must the young j)reacher also 
 go to seek his purest inspirations and his loftiest ideas. 
 He nmst study the Scripture from beginning to end. 
 as St. Augustine ad\'ises ; Tolas legerit nostasque 
 
Argumentation. 243 
 
 habuerit^ etsi non intellectu^ tamen lectione* so that he 
 iiuiy not miss a single vein of this priceless and inex- 
 haustible mine. He must study it with a profoundly 
 religious sentiment, as befits the Word of God, with 
 such a lively faith as will engrave its most striking 
 pjussag&s indelibly on his mind. He must endeavour 
 to render its language familiar to himself, to employ 
 its expressions and turns of thought as much as pos- 
 sible, and above all, to make it the matter of his 
 meditation, as he will make the grace to understand 
 and to appreciate its meaning the subject of his 
 frequent prayer. 
 
 By meditation and prayer the preacher will become 
 filled with the spirit of these Sacred Writings. God 
 will speak to him as he did to Ezechiel of old, Comeile 
 volumen isiud, et vaclens loquere filiis Israel.^ Apply- 
 ing to himself the beautiful commentary of St. Jerome 
 on this text, " Devour this holy book by assiduoiis 
 study, digest it by deep meditation, cause it to be- 
 come part of your veiy substance, before you presume 
 to preach to my people," he will go forth, strong in 
 the power of God's word, to carry the glad tidings of 
 salvation to those who sit in darkness and the shadow 
 of death. Then shall his feet be l)eautiful as the feet 
 of them that preach the gospel of peace, of them that 
 bring glad tidings of good things. Then shall li;s 
 sound go forth into all the earth, and his words unto 
 * De Doc. Christ, lib. ii, 8. t Ezechl. iii, 1. 
 
244 Body of the Discoukse. 
 
 the cMids of the whole world. Then shall his preach- 
 ing be blessed indeed, causing men to call npon the 
 name of the Lord, and causing them to be saved. 
 Then, indeed, as men listen to him shall they recognise 
 in him a true minister of God, a true ambassador of 
 Christ, and confessing with their mouths the Lord 
 Jesus and believing in their hearts, they shall be saved. 
 Then, indeed, going forth in the name, and as the 
 chosen minister of God, with the words of his com- 
 mission ever ready on his lips, ever welling up from 
 the abmidance of his heart, he shall produce much 
 fruit — a fruit that shall remain unto everlasting life, a 
 fruit that shall cause him, who has instructed others 
 unto justice, to shine like a star in the firmament of 
 God for all eternity. 
 
 After the study of Holy Scripture and the Fathers, 
 the young preacher must find the most copious and 
 most appropriate matter for his amplification in the- 
 ology, scholastic and ascetic. An exact knowledge of 
 scholastic theology is essential to every preacher. Pro- 
 claiming the truth to men in the name of God, not 
 only must he not err, but he must be quite certain that 
 he does not err, and that he exposes the truths of the 
 Gospel in all their purity. Without an exact know- 
 ledge of theology he will err, or, at all events, l)e uncer- 
 tain in his teaching. In dogma, he will confound what 
 is of faith with what is not. He will be neither exact 
 in his exposition of doctrine, nor solid in his proofs, 
 
Argumentation. 245 
 
 and hence he will lead his flock iuto eiTor, or disturb 
 their faith. In morals, he will confound counsels with 
 precepts ; that which is of perfection with that which 
 is of obligation ; that which under certain circum- 
 stances may be tolerated, with that which semper el 
 pro semper must be rigorously forbidden ; and thus he 
 will, through his laxity or his undue severity, give his 
 people false consciences, and be the cause of innumera- 
 ble sins in them. 
 
 Not less essential to the preacher is a ready and 
 practical knowledge of ascetic theology, or, the science 
 of sanctity. It is the duty of the pastor of souls to 
 draw his people from sin and to form them to virtue; 
 to give strength to the feeble, and to assist the just to 
 run on with giant strides in the way of holy perfec- 
 tion. In order to do this he must know the rules by 
 which souls are governed, by which they break off 
 from sinful habits, are fashioned to virtue, and grad- 
 ually elevated to the highest perfection. He must 
 have an intimate knowledge of those conditions which 
 elevate ordinaiy actions to the supernatural order ; 
 and he must be prepared to point out the road by 
 which all, uo matter what their state or condition of 
 life, may reach the mountain of perfection. 
 
 Now, all this supposes a very intimate knowledge 
 of the spiritual life and of the principles by which it 
 is directed. This necessary and all-essential knowledge 
 can only be acquired by the practice of constant medi- 
 
246 Body of the Discouese. 
 
 tation, and the diligent study of such "works as treat 
 of this matter. Foremost amongst the works are the 
 admirable Treatise of Rodriguez on the practice of 
 Christian and Religious Peifection, the Knowledge and 
 Love of Jesus Christ by Pere Saint-Jure, the love of 
 God by Saint Francis de Sales, the Imitation of Christ, 
 the Spiritual Combat, the True Spouse of Christ (for 
 religious persons especially) by St. Alphouse, 'the 
 Catechism of the Council of Trent, etc., etc. With 
 the practical and expedite knoAvledge which he will 
 acquire from the studious, careful, and daily read- 
 ing, so far as circumstances may permit, of these or 
 similar works ; from his own pious meditations, and 
 his own growing experience as he advances in the min- 
 istry, the pastor of souls will never be at a loss either 
 for solid and effective matter for his sermons, or true, 
 detinite, and solid principles by which to guide his 
 flock in the way of sidvation. 
 
 As the loci communes of preaching assist the sacred 
 orator to establish and develop his propositions by the 
 aid of Scripture, Tradition, and those other sources 
 Avhich are, in a rhetorical sense, " Extrinsic" to the 
 subject itself, so the loci communes of rhetoric also 
 help to conduct the preacher to his end, by enabling 
 him to develop and illustrate that subject by considera- 
 tions drawn from its very nature, and from those quali- 
 ties which belong " Intrinsically" to it. 
 
 The loci communes of rhetoric, or, in other words, 
 
AROrMEXTATIOX. 247 
 
 " Intrinsic Topics" or "Proofs from lleason,"' may be 
 reduced to Genus and Species. Detinition, Enumeration 
 of Parts, Contraries, Circumstances, Cause and Effect, 
 Comparisons, including- Examples and Parables. Al- 
 though these " Topics '' are the foundation of all argu- 
 ments drawn from reason, and are the fertile sources of 
 powerful and varied ampliiication, Ave shall, inasmuch 
 as the study of them pertains to Rhetoric strictly so 
 called, content ourselves in this place with briefly 
 glancing at them ; treating, however, at a little more 
 length, of Comparisons, Circumstances, Examples, and 
 Parables, since they ai-e of the most importance to the 
 preacher, and since they are to be considered under a 
 point of view which is to a certain extent peculiar to 
 themselves. 
 
 Genus and Species are correlative idejis, one of which 
 cannot be understood without the other. The preacher 
 employs this " Topic " as the foundation of an argu- 
 ment by considering what his subject possesses in com- 
 mon with other subjects, and what it has which is 
 peculiar to itself — ex. g. : Does not every virtue 
 (genus) merit our admiration ? How is it, then, that 
 we make so little account of Christian watchfulness 
 {species) which can alone secure youth against the 
 dangers of temptation ? 
 
 Definition supplies us with the foundation of argu- 
 ment by enabling us to explain the .nature of an}' 
 object through the development of its essential quali- 
 
248 Body of the Discouese. 
 
 ties. Definition is of the greatest utility, as well in 
 enabling us to give the clearest idea of an object, as in 
 furnishing us with matter for amplification. The 
 philosophical definition confines itself to the words 
 which are strictly necesKsary, whilst the oratorical 
 definition develops and explains the nature of the 
 object in a stiiking and pleasing manner — ex. g. : 
 The philosopher would content himself Avith describ- 
 ing scandal, as " any unbecoming word or deed afford- 
 ing to another the occasion of spiritual ruin ; " whilst 
 the orator would not merely describe the absolute 
 7i«^«re of .the oftence, but the puris/wient due for it, 
 and the reparation which it I'cquires, thus obtaining 
 most probably not only tJie introduction to, but the 
 points of, his discourse. 
 
 Enumeration of Parts consists in running through 
 and detailing the various parts of which an object is 
 composed, in order to fix the attention upon thos-e par- 
 ticulars which are best adapted to establish or to prove 
 any truth. It differs from the definition in this that 
 it enters more into details — ex. g. : Massillon, wishing 
 to pi'ove that there are comparatively few Christians 
 who merit salvation through the innocence of their 
 lives, runs through all the states, conditions, and occu- 
 pations of men, and thence deduces his conclusion. 
 
 Contraries. The force of the argument which is 
 drawn from this source consists in destroying the effect 
 of one idea by opposing to it the still greater weight 
 
Argumentation". 249 
 
 of its coutraiy, and by showing that the two cannot 
 exist at the one time, or in the same subject. Massil- 
 lon, in his sermon on the small number of the elect, 
 tjius deduces an argument from this source : " You 
 admit," says he, " that it is necessary to renounce the 
 Avorld, the flesh, the devil and his works ; and, yet, I 
 perceive in your whole life and conduct nothing but 
 attachment to the world, to sensuality, and to the devil 
 luid his works." 
 
 By Circumstances^ in this rhetorical point of view, 
 we ma}'^ consider the place in which any action oc- 
 curred, the persons who were concerned in it with all 
 those qualities which might distinguish them, together 
 with all the incidents which preceded, accampanied, or 
 followed it. These circumstances, which are embod- 
 ied in the well known verse, Quis, quid, ubi, quibus 
 auxiliis, cur, quomodo, quando, may be employed with 
 great propriety and vigour in the consideration of the 
 Passion of Christ, and other kindred subjects. 
 
 Cause and Ff'ect. Through the aid of this " Topic " 
 the orator develops or demonstrates any truth or fact 
 l)y an exposition of causes, primary or secondary, 
 etjsential or accidental, and of effects which, naturally 
 or essentially, flow from them. 
 
 Comparisons, when properly employed, are of the 
 greatest advantage in amplifying and developing a 
 discourse. They must be drawn from objects well 
 known to our hearers, otherwise, as is evident, they 
 
250 Body of the Discourse. 
 
 will only add obscurity instead of clearness to it. The 
 Holy Scripture is our best guide in this respect. It is 
 full . of comparisous ^vhich are taken from the most 
 ordinary subjects, as the human body, the gnat, the 
 ant, the dog which returns to his vomit, the tree, the 
 sowing and the harvest, the vine, the shepherd, the 
 husbandman, etc. In the employment of comparisons, 
 although Ave may take them from lowly or familiar 
 objects, we must never forget the dignity of the pulpit, 
 or descend to language which may not be strictly just 
 and becoming. We must not spin them out too much, 
 or press them too far, since the axiom, Omnis co)n- 
 paratio claudicat, is strictly true. Employed with 
 these limitations, and under these conditions, compari- 
 sons impart a wonderful clearness, reality, interest, and 
 force to a discourse. They render it intelligible to the 
 most simple and unlearned, full of interest and attrac- 
 tion to the more cultivated, impart the clearest light 
 to the subject which we treat, and, in a word, bring it 
 home to the audience. 
 
 Examples, when judiciously selected, are not less 
 useful than comparisons. The most listless audience 
 will brighten up when the preacher commences to 
 illustrate his argument by examples ; and, as they 
 listen to him more willingly, so do they retain more 
 easily the argument thus enforced. The rules which 
 have been laid down for comparisons must also be 
 followed in the employment of examples. 
 
Argumentation'. 251 
 
 The Parable is a comparison which wc disgui.se 
 under the form of a historical fiction in order to add 
 greater clearness and life to our subject. It has the 
 same eftect as the example. It interests and reani- 
 mates the tlagging attention of our hearers, by bring- 
 ing the truth which we wish to inculcate in the moyt 
 vivid manner before them. It has a peculiar charm 
 for children and simple persons, and is most useful in 
 helping them to understand definitions which they 
 frequently find it difiicult to comprehend. The nse of 
 the parable comes to us consecrated by the example 
 of our Divine Lord, who often employed it when 
 preaching to the lowly and the ignorant ; and it may 
 well be doubted, whether the most finished eiforts of 
 human genius and oratory have ever produced such 
 deep and lasting effects in souls, as those which nave 
 been wrought by the simple recital of the divine para- 
 bles of the Prodigal Son, the Lost Sheep, etc. 
 
 By the diligent and assiduous working of these loci; 
 above all by their practical application to the peculiar 
 intelligence, position, and necessities of his flock, it is 
 impossible that the preacher can ever be at a loss for 
 abundant matter with which, not only to convince, but 
 to please and to move his flock. Veritas pateal, Veri- 
 tas placeoi, Veritas moveat. We now proceed to give 
 some examples of amplification of arguments. 
 
252 Body op the Discourse, 
 
 examples. 
 Anvplification hy Cause and Effect — Massillon. 
 
 In his semion on the certainty of a future state 
 Massillon hiys down his principle, "That all does not 
 die with us," and then proceeds to establish it by a 
 consideration of the ridiculous and impious conse- 
 quences which necessarily flow from the doctrines of 
 the unbeliever. He thus powerfully concludes the first 
 portion of his argumentation : — 
 
 " If all die with us, domestic annals and the train of 
 our ancestors are only a collection of chimeras ; since 
 we have no forefathers, and shall hifs'e no descendants, 
 anxieties for a name and posterity are therefore ridicu- 
 lous ; the honours we render to the memory of illus- 
 triofts men, a childish eiTor, since it is absurd to hon- 
 our what has no existence ; the sacred respect we pay 
 to the habitations of tlie dead, a vulgar illusion ; the 
 ashes of our fathers and friends, a vile dust which wt 
 should cast to the winds as belonging to no person .; 
 the last wishes of the dj^ing, so sacred amongst even 
 the most barbarous nations, the last sound of a machine 
 Avhich crumbles in pieces, and, to comprise all in a 
 word, if all die with us, the laws are then a foolish sub- 
 jection ; kings aud rulers, phantoms whom the imbe- 
 cility of the people has exalted ; justice, an usurpation 
 on the liberties of men ; the law of marriage, a vain 
 scruple ; modesty, a prejudice ; honour and probitj', 
 
Argumentatiox. 253 
 
 chimeras ; incests, parricides, and the blackest villa- 
 nies, pastimes of nature, and names which the policy 
 of legislators has invented. . . . The uncertainty 
 of the believer is then suspicious in its principle, fool- 
 ish in its proofs, and horril)le in its consequences." 
 
 Amplification by Comparison — Massillon 
 
 Massillon employs comparisons, drawn from Scrip- 
 ture, with extraordinary felicity and grace. Nor is 
 Bossuet less happy in their employment, sometimes 
 comparing the journey of the Christian to hea\'en to 
 that of the Israelites traversing the desert to the 
 ])romised land, sometimes comparing life to a road 
 which terminates in heaven, etc. We subjoin several 
 brief examples. 
 
 1. On the Word of God. " We may appl}^ to the 
 greater part of our hearers what Joseph addressed to 
 his brethreu when disouising himself from them. It is 
 not to seek for corn and nourishment that you have' 
 come hither. You have come as spies to see the naked- 
 ness of the laud. Exploratores estis; ut videatis infir- 
 rniora terrce venistis* It is not to nourish yourselves 
 with the bread of the word that you have come to lis- 
 ten to us ; it is that you may discover our failings and 
 pass your censures upon them." 
 
 2. On true WorsJiip. " You resemble the altar of 
 tabernacles of which Holy Scripture makes mention. 
 
 * Genes, xliii, 9. 
 
354 Body of the Discourse. 
 
 It was covered with pure gold, the outside was brilliant 
 to look upon, but the interior was empty : I^on erat 
 aoUdiim, seel intus vacuum* says the Spirit of God. 
 In vain do you immolate those strange victims which 
 the Lord does not seek. Your passions have never 
 been immolated before the sanctity of God. You 
 have but the exterior appearance of piety, interiorly 
 you are void of faith and of works. Intus vacuumJ^ 
 
 Amplification by Example — Massillon. 
 
 Massillon thus beautifully enforces the obligation of 
 fasting by examples : " God does not measure j^our 
 infirmities by your titles, but liy His law. David was 
 a prince whom the delicacies of royalty ought surely 
 to have softened ; read in his divine canticles, the his- 
 tory of his austerities. If you imagine that sex should 
 give you any privilege, I will show you that Esther, 
 in the midst of a proud court, knew how to afflict her 
 soul by fasting. Judith, so distinguished amongst the 
 children of Israel, bewailed the death of her spouse 
 in fastins: and sackcloth. The Paulas — the Marcellas 
 — those illustrious Eoman matrons, sprung from the 
 rulei-s of the world — Oh ! what examples of austerity 
 have they not left to succeeding generations ?" 
 * Exod. xxxviii, 9. 
 
AKGUi^EXTATIO^'. 255 
 
 Amjtlificalion by CirciimMam-et< — Dr. JSfewman and 
 Archdeacon O'Keefe. 
 
 Dr. Newman truly excels in his wonderful powers 
 of amplification, and the student could take no better 
 model for his guidance in this matter. We subjoin 
 two brief examples. 
 
 " Look at that poor profligate in the Gospel, look 
 at Dives ; do you think he understood that his wealth 
 was to be spent, not on himself, but for the glory of 
 God ? — yet for forgetting this, he was lost for ever and 
 ever. I Avill tell you what he thought, and how he 
 A'iewed things : — he was a young man, and had suc- 
 ceeded to a good estate, and he determined to enjoy 
 himself. It did not strike him that his wealth had 
 any other use than that of enabling him to take his 
 pleasure. Lazarus lay at his gate ; he might have 
 relieved Lazarus ; that was God's will : but he man- 
 aged to put conscience aside, and he persuaded himself 
 he should be a fool, if he did not make the most of 
 this world, while he had the means. So he resolved 
 to have his fill of pleasure ; and feasting was to his 
 mind the principal part of it. ' He fared sumptu- 
 ously every day ;' every thing belonging to him was 
 in the best style, as men speak ; his house, his furniture, 
 his plate of silver and gold, his attendants, his estab- 
 lishments. Every thing was for enjoyment, and for 
 show too ; to attract the eyes of the world, and to 
 gain the applause and admiration of his equals, M'ho 
 
256 Body of the Discoukse. 
 
 were the companions of his sins. These companions 
 were doubtless such as became a young man of such 
 pretensions ; they were fashionable men ; a collection 
 of refined, high-bred, haughty youths, eating, not glut- 
 tonously, but what was rare and costl}'" ; delicate, 
 exact, ftistidious in their taste, from their very habits 
 of indulgence ; not eating for the sake of eating, or 
 drinking for the sake of drinking, but making a sort 
 of science of their sensuality ; sensual, carnal, as iiesh 
 and blood can be, with eyes, ears, tongue, steeped in 
 impin-ity, every thought, look, and sense, witnessing 
 or ministering to the evil one who ruled them ; yet, 
 M ith exquisite correctness of idea iuid judgment, laying 
 down rules for sinning ; — heartless and selfish, high, 
 punctilious, and disdainful in their outward deport- 
 ment, and shrinking from Lazarus, who lay at the gate 
 as an eye-sore, Avho ought for the sake of decency to 
 ])e put out of the way. Dives was one of them, and 
 so he lived his short span, thinking of nothing, loving 
 nothing, but himself, till one da}' he got into a fatal 
 quarrel with one of his godless associates, or he caught 
 some bad illness ; and then he lay helpless on his l)ed 
 of pain, cursing fortune and his ph^'sician that he was 
 no better, and impatient that he was thus kept from 
 enjoying his youth, trying to fancy himself mending 
 Avheu he was getting worse, and disgusted at those who 
 would not throw him some word of comfort in his 
 suspense, and turning more resolutely fi'om his Creator 
 
Argumentation. 357 
 
 in proportion to bis suffering : — and then at last liis 
 da}^ came, and he died, and (O miserable !) was buried 
 in hell. And so ended he and his mission.'' — GoiTis 
 Will the End of Life. 
 
 " It is an old story and a familiar, and I need not 
 go through it. I need not tell you, m\- Ijrethren, how 
 suddenly the word of truth came to yom- ancestors in 
 this island and subdued them to its gentle rule ; how 
 the grace of God fell on them, and, without compul- 
 sion, as the historian tells us, the multitude became 
 Christian ; how when all was tempestuous, and hope- 
 less, and dark, Christ like a vision of glory came 
 walking to them on the waves of the sea. And sud- 
 denly there was a great calm ; a change came over tlie 
 pagan people in that quarter of the country where the 
 gospel was first preached to them ; and from thence 
 the blessed influence went forth, it was poured out over 
 the whole land, till one and all, the Anglo-Saxon peo- 
 ple were converted by it. In a hundred years the 
 work was done ; the idols, the sacrifices, the mum- 
 meries of paganism were cast av.^'iy to the ' moles and 
 the bats,' and the pure doctrine and heavenly worship 
 of the cross were found in their stead. The fair form 
 of Christianit}' rose up and grew and expanded like a 
 beautiful pageant from north to south ; it was majes- 
 tic, it was solemn, it was bright, it Avas beautiful and 
 pleasant, it was soothins; to the griefs, it was pleasant 
 
258 Body of the Discouese. 
 
 to the hopes of man ; it was at once a teaching and a 
 worship ; it had a dogma, a mj^stery, a ritnal of its 
 own ; it had an hierarchical form. A brotherhood 
 of holy jDastors, with mitre and crosier, and hand up- 
 lifted, walked forth and blessed and ruled the joyful 
 people. The crucifix headed the process! oii, and 
 simple monks were there with hearts in praj^er, and 
 sweet chants resounded, and the holy Latin tongue was 
 heard, and boys came forth in white, swinging censers 
 and the fragrant cloud arose, and mass was sung, and 
 the saints were invoked ; and day after day, and in the 
 still night, and over the woody hills, and in the quiet 
 plains, as constantly as sun and moon and stars go foiih 
 in heaven, so regular and solemn was the stately march 
 of blessed services on earth, high festival, and gorgeous 
 procession, and soothing dirge, and passing bell, and 
 tlie familiar evening call to prayer ; till he who re- 
 collected the old pagan time, would think unreal what 
 he beheld and heard, and conclude he did but see a 
 vision, so marvellously was heaven let down upon earth, 
 so triumph an tl}' were chased away the fiends of dark- 
 ness to their prison below." — Christ upon the Waters. 
 
 Our third example of the method of amplifying by 
 circumstances is taken from a sermon by the late Arch- 
 deacon O'Keeffe, and is a magnificent specimen of 
 sacred oratory. 
 
 " But lamentable as are the consequences in this life, 
 the full extent of the injury cannot be ascertained, until 
 
AEGUMEJiTTATIOK. 259 
 
 the light of futurity begins to dawn. Ascend in spirit 
 to the many mansions, where myriads of celestial beings 
 sit enthroned before the great and living God. Crowned 
 with surpassing glory and bathed in eternal bliss, they 
 are filled with the plenty of their Father's house ; they 
 drink of the torrent of delight, which springs fast by 
 the throne of the eternal ; and wrapt in the contem- 
 plation of boundless excellence, they enjoy all the 
 felicity of which our nature is susceptible. Of this 
 destined happiness the giver of evil example deprivet, 
 his victim. But the evil is not confined to the mere 
 deprivation of happiness ; he further brings down on 
 his miserable victim a horrible damnation. Think on 
 that dark prison whose, smoke ascends for ever and 
 ever ; where human guilt is paying to rigorous justice 
 its eternal debt — where miseiy appears in every shape 
 that can appal the firmest — where the unsparing hand 
 of Justice is lifted up for ever. Approach and speak 
 to the victims of evil example. — No mortal voice could 
 preach like those hollow tones of deep despair that 
 load the accursed atmosphere of ' helV Ask that 
 young man what direful causes concuiTed to plunge 
 him in that dread abyss ? He will tell you of the 
 companions of his youth, who drew him into guilt, au<l 
 gave his young mind that fatal bias,« which led to this 
 deep damnation ; he will tell you, that they met him in 
 the morning of his days, when life Avas young, and hope 
 unbroken, and the chalice of guilty pleasure untasted — 
 
260 Body of the Discouese. 
 
 when youthful confideuce saw in every face a friend, 
 and youthful spirits tinged with the richest colouring of 
 fancy the boundless prospect that stretched before him. 
 They met him, whilst his body was yet a living sacri- 
 fice offered to his God, at morning and evening time, 
 his heart a throne of living light, where Jesus the Hid- 
 den God of the Eucharist loved to dwell, and his spirit 
 a cloudless heaven chequered by no dark shade of vice 
 or crime. They met him in an evil hour, and led him 
 to those scenes, where crowd in full assemblage all the 
 seductions of vice, and all the blandishments that can 
 soften and seduce — where the wicked combine, and the 
 profligate associate — where bloated intemperance and 
 sickly dissipation riot, in what is called ' the festive 
 chair,' pouring out from wanton and profane lips 
 offences against decency, and bla.sphemy against God — 
 where rude and boisterous merriment, born in sin, and 
 In-ed in folly and ignorance, ridicule the discipline of 
 virtue, and the sanctity of religion. There did he learn 
 by degrees to join in the senseless cry raised against all 
 that should be dear to man in time and eternity. His 
 course I recollect was a short one — he brought down 
 ruin on his circumstances, infamy on his character, 
 decay on his constitution, auger and sorroAvand shame 
 on the grey hair* of a father, destruction, and, I may 
 add, final perdition on himself. He was hurried away 
 while he slept in imagined security. Before the 
 thought of eternity seriously took possession of his 
 
Argumektation. 261 
 
 mind, he found himself sinking through its darkest 
 depths, mid ere he had time to eall on the name of the 
 living God, he Avas standing in horror before his aM^ful 
 tribunal. There is no bosom so locked up against the 
 entrance of humanity as not to feel for thy sorrows, 
 child of high and disappointed hopes ! — no heart so 
 hardened as not to mourn with me over the stranded 
 wreck of thy virtues, and thy happiness, that lies so 
 dark, so shattered, and so lonely on the shores of thy 
 eternal exile. If teai*s could ease thy torture, all who 
 knew thy once kind and compassionate spirit would 
 shed them for thee ; if prayer and sacrifice could avail, 
 the Church that mouyiis thee lost, would make her 
 altars blaze before her God with the burjit ofFerin<>;s 
 of Calvary ; or, if life could purchase thy redemption, 
 thy agonies would terminate speedily. But thou art 
 lost, lost to thyself, to thy friends, to thy God ! and 
 lost for ever ! Stretched on thy burning bed, thou ait 
 a beacon of fire to warn others from the rocks, where 
 all thy hopes are shipwrecked, to make them fly the 
 associates Avhose converse is coiTuption, — whose com- 
 pany is dishonour, — whose example is death and final 
 perdition." — On Scandal. 
 
263 Body of the Discoukse, 
 
 SECTION VII. 
 
 REFUTATION. 
 
 Before leaving this bi-auch of our su])ject we must 
 briefly glance at another matter which is essentially con- 
 nected with it, and which is teclinically known as Refu- 
 tation. Frequently it is not sufficient to prove our 
 point solidly and well. We must, especially when 
 there is question of morality, pursue the sinner further 
 still, in order to overthrow those objections and vain 
 pretexts behind which he strives to shelter himself, and 
 which he interposes between hiqiself and the discharge 
 of his duty. 
 
 The most effective way of doing this is for the 
 preacher to enter, as it were, into a dialogue with the 
 sinner, and, addressing him without bitterness or any- 
 thing which can give offence, to take up his objections 
 and show their unreasonableness and worthlessness. 
 This manner of refuting, when it is conducted with 
 tact and discernment, is not oidy full of interest and 
 attraction to an audience, but is extremely useful. 
 
 Refutation is generally introduced at the close of the 
 ]jositive arguments, but it ma}^ be advanced earlier, 
 v/lien we deem it necessary thus to sweep a\vay preju- 
 dices which threaten to inteifere with the successful 
 conduct of the body of the discourse. It may also be 
 interlaced amongst the various proofs as they occur, 
 
Eefutatiox. 2G3 
 
 if such a proceeding be deemed more judicious, and 
 this of course can only be decided by the good sense 
 and prudence of the preacher. 
 
 The principal thing to be observed in this matter is, 
 to be very discreet in the selection of the objections 
 which we attack, and to attack none which we are not 
 able to refute victoriously and unanswerabl}'. These 
 remarks apply, a fortiori, to the refutation of dogmati- 
 cal objections when the preacher may deem it his dut}- 
 to bring them before his Hock, or when the necessitj' 
 of answering them may be thrust upon him from 
 quartei"s which the interests of religion forbid him to 
 pass by in silence. Unless in these exceptional cases, 
 the less he disturbs the simple faith and the undoul)t- 
 iug belief of his flock, by bringing before them objec- 
 tions of which perhaps they' then hear for the first 
 time, the better. If we advance objections without 
 victoriously refuting them, we afford the sinner or 
 unbeliever additional pretexts for remaining in his sin 
 or unbelief. 
 
 Having once discreetly selected the objection which 
 we intend to refute, it is well, as Ave have said, to put 
 it into the mouth of our adversaiy, advancing it 
 frankly and fairh^ expressing it precisely as we believe 
 it to be in the simier's mind, so that, listening to our 
 exposition of it, he may say to himself, " That is ex- 
 actly my objection ; that is precisely my difficulty, 
 
264 Body of the Discoukse. 
 
 and I should wish very much to hear how the preacher 
 will clear it up," 
 
 Having fairly stated the objection, there are of course 
 various methods of refuting it. We will glance briefly 
 at the leading ones, and give some illustrations from 
 Massillon who excels in this matter. Many of these 
 illustrations also aftbrd excellent examples of the 
 method of amplifying by comparison, etc., etc. 
 
 1. We may refute an objection by showing the 
 falseness of the principle on which it rests. Massillon 
 thus refutes the false principles that youth is the season 
 for pleasure, that the practice of virtue belongs to old 
 age :— 
 
 " Who has assured you that death will not surprise 
 you in the midst of those years which you intend to 
 devote to the world and* your psissions ? Upon what 
 foundation, I ask you, do you promise yom-self that 
 age shall change your heart, and incline you to embrace 
 a new life ? Did age change the heart of Solomon ? 
 No, it was then that his passions became most violent, 
 that his miserable frailty became most scandalous. 
 Did age prepare Saul for his conversion ? No, it was 
 then tliat to his other errors he added superstition, im- 
 piety, hardness of heart and despair. It may be that, 
 as you advance in years, you shall leave off" certain 
 loose manners, because the disgust which follows them 
 shall have withdrawn you from them, but you will not 
 on that account be converted. You may no longer 
 
Refutation. 265 
 
 live in debauchery, but you will not therefore repent. 
 Your heart will not be changed, you will do no pen- 
 ance. You will still be worldl}', ambitious, voluptu- 
 ous, and sensual. And, what is worst of all, you Avill 
 live tranquil in this fearful state. When you are no 
 longer able to give yourselves up to these vices you 
 will have all the dispositions to do so. Years, bad 
 examples, long habit of the world, shall have served 
 merely to harden your conscience, to put indolence 
 and worldly wisdom in the place of the passions, to 
 (obliterate that sense of religion which renders the soul 
 fearful and timorous in the days of youth. You will 
 die as you have lived. You will die impenitent. 
 
 . . . . But, even supposing that this great 
 misfoi-tune should not fall upon you, tell me is not the 
 Lord the God of all times and of all ages ? There is 
 not one of our days which does not belong to him, 
 which we are free to consecrate to the world and to 
 vanity. Is he not justly jealous of the first fruits of 
 oin* heart and of our life, which he has figured by 
 those first fruits of the earth which he has com- 
 manded to be oftered to him ? Why, then, do you 
 seek to rob him of the fairest portioiis of your years, 
 that you may consecrate them to Satan and his works ? 
 Is your life too long to be wholly devoted to the glory 
 of the Lord who has bestowed it upon j'ou, and who 
 has promised you an eternal one ? Is your youth so 
 precious that it may not be consecrated to the Supreme 
 
266 Body of the Discoukse. 
 
 Being, and rendered worthy of its eternal inheritance ? 
 Are you to reserve for him only the remains of your 
 life, and the dregs of your passions. If you act thus 
 it will be as if you said to him, ' Lord, so long as I 
 shall be fit for the world and its passions think not 
 that I shall turn towards thee, or that I shall seek 
 thee. So long as the world shall be pleased with me, 
 I will devote myself to it. When it liegins to neglect 
 and forsake me, then, I will turn towards thee, then I 
 "will say to thee, Lo, I am here ! I pray thee accept 
 that heart which the world hath rejected, that heart 
 Avhich finds itself under the necessity of reluctantly 
 bestowing itself upon thee, that heart from which evcu 
 now thou mayest expect nothing but perfect indiffer- 
 ence and utter neglect.' Ah ! unworthy soul, who 
 thus treatest God witli such mockery and insult, clost 
 thou believe that, in thy necessity, he will deign to 
 accept the homage that is thus forced upon him, the 
 homage that is as disgraceful to his glory as it is hate- 
 ful in his sight ! " 
 
 After this powerful refutation of these false princi- 
 ples Massillon confirms what he has said, and renders 
 it still more sensible, by the following beautiful com- 
 parison. 
 
 " In ancient days the prophet Isaiah thus mocked 
 those who Avorshipped vain idols. You take, said he 
 to them, a cedar from Lebanon ; you devote the best 
 and most handsome portions of it to your necessities, 
 
Kefutation. 367 
 
 your pleasures, your luxuiy, and the embellishinent of 
 }our palaces ; and when }'ou have no other use for the 
 remnant, you carve it into a vain idol and offer up to 
 it ridiculous vows and homages.* And I, in my turn, 
 may say to you, you consecrate the fairest and most 
 flourishing years of your life to the gratification of 
 }our fancies and your iniquitous passions ; and when 
 you know not w^hat to do with the remainder, when it 
 becomes useless to the Avorld and to }our pleasures, 
 then, you make an idol of it. You make it serve you 
 for religion. You form to yourself of it a false, a 
 superficial, an inanimate virtue, and to this miserable 
 idol you reluctantly consecrate the wretched remains 
 of your passions and of your debaucheries : Et de 
 rellquo ejus, idolum faciam. Behold brethren, what 
 I, in my turn may say to you.'' f 
 
 2. Sometimes the sinner advances his objection 
 under the form of a principle, which has a two-fold 
 meaning, one true and one false. We refute it hy 
 exposing this false meaning. Massillon thus exposes 
 the sophism that sin is expiated by the mere perform- 
 ance of works of mercy. 
 
 "Works of mercy aid us to expiate those crimes of 
 Avhich we repent, but they do not excuse or justify 
 those sins which we continue to love. Charity is the 
 hand-maid of penance, but she is not the apologist of 
 luxury. What is most deplorable in this matter is, 
 * Isai. xliv, 19. t Sermon on the Delay of Conversion. 
 
268 Body of the Discoukse. 
 
 that when the movements of grace begin to fill our 
 conscience with terror, we clothe the naked and feed 
 the hungry with whom we happen to meet, and thus 
 calm and bring false peace to these salutary stings. 
 These are the signs of peace with which we soothe our 
 alarms. This is the false and deceptive rainbow of 
 which the Prophet speaks, arcus dolosus, which, in the 
 midst of those clouds and those salutary tempests which 
 God had begun to excite in our hearts, diverts our 
 mind from the image of danger. We are lulled to 
 sleep upon these sad ruin^ of religion, as if they could 
 preserve us from shipwreck ; and those very Avorks of 
 charity which ought to be the price of our salvation 
 become the occasion of our eternal ruin." 
 
 3. We may refute, by denijing at once the principle 
 and the conclusion or which tJie sinner rests. Massillon 
 proceeds in this manner in refuting the objection, that 
 it is necessary to distinguish between those who are of 
 the world and those who are not ; and, that as we are 
 of the world, Ave may reasonably dispense ourselves 
 IVom that strict code of morality which is sought to be 
 imposed upon us. 
 
 Refutation of the p-inciple. — " And do you mean 
 to tell me that there is to be one Gospel for j^ou and 
 another for those who dwell in the desert ? You are 
 of the world ? Aye, and so Avas the sinful Avoman 
 mentioned in the Gospel, but I never heard that she 
 Avas therefore dispensed from doing penance. David 
 
Refutation. 269 
 
 was of the world, but I have never heard that he made 
 this an excuse for nioderathig the severity of his self- 
 chastisement. I have never heard that the first Chris- 
 tians were accustomed to distinguish between those 
 who were of the world and those who were not. To 
 say that you are a Christian is the same as to say that 
 }ou are not of the Avorld. . . . You are of the 
 world, my brethren ? Yes, luit it is your crime, and 
 you will make it your excuse. A Christian belongs 
 no longer to the Avorld, he is a citizen of heaven." 
 
 Refutation of the consequence. — " When 3'ou affirm 
 that you are of the world what do you pretend to say ? 
 That you are dispensed from doing penance ? You 
 speak justly if it be true that the world is the abode 
 of innocence, the sanctuary of virtue, the faithfid pro- 
 tector of modesty, of sanctity, and of temperance. 
 That prayer is not necessaiy for you ? I agree with 
 you if you can assure me that there is less danger in 
 the world than in solitude, that there are fewer snares 
 to be feared, that seductions are less frequent, that 
 relapses are more rare, and that less grace is needed in 
 order to rise again. That you are not bound to with- 
 draw from the amusements of the world ? Again, 
 I aoree with you if it be true that its amusements are 
 holy, and its companies innocent, if all that 3'ou hear 
 and see in it elevate your heart to God, nourish your 
 faith, cultivate your piety, and draw down the divine 
 grace upon you. That j-ou are not bound to take such 
 
370 Body of the Discoukse. 
 
 pains in order to save your souls ? You say what is 
 true, and yet once more will I agree with you, if you 
 will show me that you have no passions to overcome, 
 no obstacles to surmount : that the world will assist 
 you to fulfil those sacred obligations which the Gospel 
 has imposed upon you. O man ! such is your terrible 
 blindness, you reckon your very miseries as your highest 
 privileges ; you persuade yourself that in multiplying 
 your chains you are but increasing your liberty ; you 
 are making your very dangers the rock on which you 
 are building your false and delusive hopes."* 
 
 4. The most brilliant and most telling mode of 
 refuting is that in which, collecting a number of ob- 
 jections into one bundle, so to sjjeak, we, tvithouf de- 
 laying lipon any of them, snap them in twain one 
 after another by strong, brief, and cutting ansivers. 
 These brief, but brilliant strokes of a nervous and 
 vigorous eloquence, are as darts discharged into the 
 very heart of our adversary, which, raining down upon 
 him from every side, leave him no means of evasion, 
 no chance of escape. Massillon is especially happy 
 in this method of refutation : 
 
 1st Exam/pie, proving that the virtues of the good 
 icill leave the wicked without any excuse. 
 
 " What Avill you answer before the tribunal of Jesus 
 Christ ? Will you affirm that you have but follow^ed 
 established usages ? Did the just who are standing in 
 
 * Sermon upon the Samaritan woman. 
 
Refutation^. 271 
 
 your presence conform themselves to these usages ? 
 Will you excuse yourselves on the ground of your 
 illustrious birth ? You have known many who, with a 
 more illustrious name than yoiu-s, have sanctified their 
 state, and have discovered in it the happy secret of 
 securing their salvation. Perchance, you will allege 
 the vivacity of youth, or the delicacy of sex? You 
 may eveiy day behold those who regard these things 
 as mere dirt, who have no thought but for heaven. 
 Will you speak of the dissipating nature of your 
 occupations ? How many have you seen who, engaged 
 in the same occupations, have nevertheless saved their 
 souls. Your taste for pleasure ? The desire of plea- 
 sure reigns in the hearts of all men, and frequently 
 it is strongest in those Avho serve God most faithfully. 
 Your atilictions ? There are many who are more 
 miseral)le. Your prosperity ? There are many who 
 sanctify themselves in abundance. Your health ? 
 You may behold many who, fortified by divine love 
 and grace, serve God with the greatest fidelity, although 
 suffering from the most infirm health.* 
 
 ^nd Example, proving that the discourse of the 
 world ought not to turn us away from the service of 
 God. 
 
 " What can the w^orld say of you w^hich ought to 
 give you such alarm ? That you are changed ? 
 O happy inconstancy, Avhich detaches you from a woi-ld 
 * Sermou upon the jiidgmeut of the good and the wicked 
 
272 Body of the Discoukse. 
 
 which is always fleeting and inconstant, in order to 
 attach you to those unchangeable goods which no man 
 can take from you. That you are foolish to renounce 
 pleasure at your age ? O holy folly, wiser than all the 
 wisdom of the world, since in renouncing its pleasures 
 }'0u renounce nothing, and in finding God you find 
 everything. That you know not wdiat you are doing ? 
 Thrice useful reproaches, which thus become pregnant 
 with instruction, and serve to animate your vigilance. 
 That you only leave the world because it has first left 
 you ? Precious injustice, which thus hinders you from 
 receiving a vain recompense here. That ^'ou aft'cct a 
 singularity of life which will cover you with the 
 ridicule of tlie world ? O consoling censure, which 
 declares that you are following in the footsteps of the 
 saints, who were ever covered with the vain ridicule of 
 tiie world. In fine, that since your change you are no 
 longer good for anything ? My God, and are we use- 
 less upon the face of the earth because we serve you, 
 love j'ou, and discharge our duties ; because we edify, 
 assist, console, and pray for our brethi'en.''* 
 
 Such are some of the principal methods of refuting 
 the vain pretexts and the futile objections of the sin- 
 ner. It only remains after this overthrow of his 
 forces — this destruction of the ramparts behind which 
 he seeks to hide himself from God and his duty, to 
 raise him up again, to show him what he is bound to 
 * Sermou upou humau respect. 
 
Special Applicatiok. 273 
 
 do in order to siive his soul, and to encourage him to 
 imdertake this duty like a fervent and detenniued 
 Christian. 
 
 SECTION VIIL 
 
 SPECIAL APPLICATION OF THE SUBJECT TO ALL CLASSES 
 OF OUR HEARERS; OR, AMPLIFICATION OF ARGUMENTS 
 DRAWN FROM PRACTICAL CONCLUSIONS 111 Ve mOVali 
 EXTREMES TO BE AVOIDED. 
 
 Having sufficiently explained the great Christian 
 truth which forms the subject of our discourse ; hav- 
 ing supported it by arguments discreetly chosen, skil- 
 fully arranged, and powerfully amplified ; having, 
 when necessary, refuted the objections which may l^ 
 advanced against it ; it only remains to deduce those 
 practical conclusions which necessarily flow from it, 
 and appl}' them to the special wants and necessities of 
 our hearers, since we only preach that they may be- 
 come better men. 
 
 In order to do this successfully we must know our 
 people well ; ^\e must embrace within thescoj^e of our 
 sermon, as far as is practical, the necessities of all those 
 who are listening to us ; and we must apply ourselves 
 with special earnestness and care to combat the domi- 
 nant passions and the leading abuses and disorders 
 which may reign in our parish. In order to ])e able 
 
 to apply our discourse with practical fruit to the souls 
 18 
 
274 Body of the Discourse. 
 
 of our hearers, it is evident that we must first know 
 them well. If we happen to bo preaching in a strange 
 place, we must endeavour to acquire this necessary in- 
 formation from the pastor of it. In our own parish we 
 shall, of course, acquire an intimate knowledge of our 
 flock, of their virtues as well as of their failings, from 
 our intercourse with them, from our obseiTation of their 
 lives and habits, and from those other sources which 
 experience in the work of the ministry will daily open 
 to us. "Without such a knowledge of our flock it is 
 certain that, whatever other qualities it may possess, a 
 sermon can never be practical. 
 
 We must labour to embrace, as far as possible, with • 
 in the scope of our discourse the necessities of all our 
 hearers. If a preacher merely apply his healing reme- 
 dies to one class of his audience, his discourse will neces- 
 sarily be without either utility or interest to the rest, 
 whilst all have an equal right to be nourished with the 
 Divine word. His flock are like the sick men watch- 
 ing at the pool of Bethsaida. He is the angel sent by 
 God to cure them. He is to give light to the blind, 
 and strength and vigour to the lame. He is to raise 
 up those who have fallen, and he is to make sure the 
 feet of those who are yet standing. 
 
 His charity must therefore spread itself out to the 
 wants of all ; to those who sin through weakness or 
 ignorance ; to those who are involved in evil habits 
 but who are not as yet thoroughly hardened ; to those 
 
Special Applicatiojs-. 275 
 
 who have steeped themselves in sin till their eyes arc 
 blinded and their ears closed to all the lights and 
 inspirations of the Almighty ; those who in sad sober 
 truth are living in the very state of damnation without 
 one thought or one desire of freeino^ themselves from 
 their chains. With no less earnestness will his charity 
 embrace those who are walkins: with lovins^ care and 
 fidelity in the way of God's Commandments, those who 
 may have but just begun, those who may have made 
 some progi-ess, those who may have already advanced 
 a great distance on the path of holy perfection. 
 
 In order to meet these various wants the preacher 
 will, if he be treating of any vice, attack with all the 
 power at his command those sins which are the sad 
 children of this fruitful mother. He will speak with 
 compassion of those who fall through weakness or the 
 force of temptation. He will raise his voice in solemn 
 warning against the perversity of those who are hard- 
 ening their hearts and blinding their eyes by their in- 
 dulgence of evil habits. He will thunder God's judg- 
 ments, cum omni imperio^ into the soul of the repro- 
 bate and hardened sinner, that, if he will not allow 
 himself to be converted to God by the pleadings of 
 His mercy, he may at least be brought to a sense of 
 his duty by the recollection of those fearful punish- 
 ments which He has prepared for unrelenting enemies. 
 The preacher will not fail either to speak with repro- 
 bation (rf those lighter failings, those minor sins, by 
 
276 Body of the Discoukse. 
 
 the commission of which the man is led on, little by 
 little, to put himself in open enmity with God. In 
 fine, he will prescribe the practical means of avoiding 
 or of correcting this vice, indicating successively those 
 which are of necessity and those which are only of 
 counsel and of perfection. 
 
 If, on the contrary, he be treating of some particu- 
 lar virtue, he will endeavour to inspire his hearers 
 with a great horror of the sins which are contrary to 
 it, and he will propose the ordinary as well as the 
 highest degrees in which it may be practised. In 
 this way he will minister to the wants of all. All 
 classes of sinners, as well as of the just, will receive 
 that instruction which is most suited to them, and there 
 will be no one present who may not derive some profit 
 from this discourse. 
 
 With a view to the profit of all those who may 
 compose his audience, no matter what their state of 
 life may be, he will not fail frequently to impress 
 upon them the general principle that, of all duties 
 those which pertain to our own peculiar state are the 
 most essential, and that the ordinary means of per- 
 fection and sanctification are placed in the faithful and 
 perfect discharge of those duties. He will render this 
 still more practical by examples, by dwelling upon 
 the obligations of tiie rich and the poor, of masters 
 and of seiTants, of parents and of children, etc., etc. ; 
 taking care, however, not to decry any profession 
 
Special Applicatioit. 27T 
 
 which is honourable in itself, nor to dwell upon the 
 obligations of any state to which coiTelative duties 
 may be attached, without insisting equally upon the 
 faithful discharsfe of those duties. 
 
 As a necessary consequence of laboui-ing to adapt 
 his discoui-se to the special wants of his hearei-s, the 
 preacher will apply himself most assiduously to combat 
 those dominant passions and those leading disorders 
 which may reign in his parish. These dominant vices 
 are the grand obstacles to salvation. These are the 
 evils which cry aloud most urgently for remedy, and 
 which, unless they be removed, will be the most fright- 
 ful source of death to many souls. 
 
 Whilst, however, the fervent pastor will inveigh 
 with all the powera of his soul, in season and out of 
 season, in omni patientia et doctrina, against these 
 dominant vices, he will be careful never to assume a tone 
 of bitter acerbity and angry reproach. True zeal knows 
 no such language as this. It is sweet and without gall, 
 tender and compassionate towards the sinner who has 
 fallen. No man is ever gained to God by angiy re- 
 proach, that is, by a reproach, clothed in angry words. 
 At the best, a reproach is always a bitter medicine. It 
 is sometimes necessary to administer it to the sinner, 
 but let the preacher ever temper its bitterness by the 
 considerate and gentle language in which he will 
 clothe it. Let him, to use a common simile, gild the 
 pill, mindful of the characteristic which Holy Writ 
 
278 Body of the Discoubse. 
 
 applies to true zeal against siu, Irasdmini et nolite 
 peccare* 
 
 He will also be careful not to represent any dis- 
 ordei-s which may prevail in his parish as really worse 
 than they are. Exaggeration is always mischievous 
 and always to be avoided. It is doubly mischievous 
 when employed in the pulpit. He will use an extreme 
 caution and reserve when speaking of certain vices, 
 so as to say nothing which may in the least sully the 
 most sensitive or the most delicate conscience. Whilst 
 he denounces the vices of his people, he will not fail 
 at the same time to indicate the remedies for these 
 disorders. 
 
 Eemedies, it is scarcely necessary to remark, are^ of 
 two km ds, general and particular. By general remedies 
 we understand prayer, meditation, the holy use of the 
 sacraments, spiritual reading, fasting, mortification, and 
 alms-deeds. Particular remedies vary according to the 
 faults and dispositions of the sinner, and they ought to 
 be pointed out by the preacher with such exact pre- 
 cision that all may see quite clearly what they ought 
 to do. 
 
 As he has shown them in detail what they are, so 
 the preacher ought to show them in detail what they 
 ought to be, the practices and the means by which they 
 may correct themselves, the obligations which they have 
 to fulfil, and the new life on which they are bound to 
 Psl. iv. 5. 
 
Special AppLicATioiir. ' 2T9 
 
 enter. The experience and the Avatchful care of the 
 zealous pa^jtor will furnish him with more practical and 
 eificacious means of accomplishing these great, useful, 
 aud holy ends, than any we could hope to suggest or 
 pi^escribe. Let him only be in earnest, let him only 
 be inflamed with a great zeal for the glory of God and 
 for the salvation of the precious souls whom his Master 
 has entrusted to his care to be prepared for heaven, 
 and the means — ^sweet, plentiful, and efficacious — of 
 accomplishing his purpose will never be wanting to 
 him. Let him not fail, too, to impress upon his peo- 
 ple that the onlj' way of avoiding sin is by sedulously 
 avoiding its occasions, that the sole means of pei>3ever- 
 ing in good resolutions is through the grace of God 
 which is alone showered down in plentiful profusion 
 upon the souls of those who ask it in tervent, humble, 
 and continual prayer. 
 
 To sum up, then, and briefly recapitulate the leading 
 principles which have been thrown out in considering 
 this part of our matter. Having selected his subject 
 in view of the special dispositions, capacity, and neces- 
 sities of his audience ; having collected his materials 
 and arranged them in such a way as to secure the 
 essential quality of unity for his discourse ; having, in 
 his Exordium, introduced that subject in a becoming 
 manner, and, by means of his Division, marked out its 
 
280 Body of the Discoukse. 
 
 leading members or pai-ts ; the preacher proceeds to 
 establish the great tinith which he. has laid down as 
 the basis of his sermon. In the lirst place he imparts 
 to his audience that amount of clear, solid, and prac- 
 tical instruction on the matter in hand which his ex- 
 perience points out to him as necessary or useful for 
 them. He then proceeds to confirm his propositions 
 by solid proofs. He may prove each point of his dis- 
 course from Holy Scripture, the Holy Fathers, the 
 Motives of Faith, and from reason. He may amplify 
 each source of proof in the manner described, and, 
 more especially, by the use of comparisons, examples, 
 etc., drawn either from Sacred or Profane Histoiy, or 
 the ordinary circumstances of life. When necessary 
 or useful, he will refute the objections which may be 
 advanced against either his proposition or his proofs ; 
 and, finally, since the whole aim and object of his 
 preaching is to render his hearers better men, he will 
 make a practical application of the subject to their 
 special necessities and wants. This application may 
 be either reserved until the conclusion of the argumen- 
 tation, or it may be introduced at the close of each 
 point of the diecourse, or it may even be brought 
 forward at any part of the instructive or argumentative 
 portions of his sermon where the preacher deems it 
 peculiarly appropriate or telling. The plan of intro- 
 ducing it during the progress of his discourse, at least 
 at the conclusion of each point, is probably better as 
 
Special Application". 281 
 
 an ordinary rule, than that of reserving it until the 
 conclusion of the entire argumentation, since the 
 preacher thus rendei-s his sennon practically interest- 
 ing and useful. 
 
 By the careful, diligent, and practical application 
 of these principles, the preacher can scarcely fail to 
 secure a becoming and eftective development of, what 
 we may call, the logical element of his discoui*se : 
 Vefi'ilas pateat. 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 I HI i\'A&tl oJxsiiil* 
 
 ill'.,: h ;-.iiJ iJ'i), 
 
 . , ■ / / I : ! ■ , I i : . . . 
 
 iio to Mioif^-Kq mi) < 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE PATHETIC PART. PERSUASIOlf— APPEAL TO THE 
 PASSIONS. PERORATION 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 PERSUASION ITS NATURE AND NECESSITY. 
 
 AVING studied — if not thoroughly, at least 
 sufficiently — the manner of introducing our 
 subject, the method of instructing, and the 
 rules according to which our argumentation 
 is to be conducted, strengthened, and adorned, it now 
 remains to tum our attention to the Peroration, or, 
 Conclusion of a Sermon. Before doing so, however, 
 we must, as briefly as the matter will permit, consider 
 and lay down some general principles on what is, be- 
 yond all doubt, the most important portion of our 
 subject, and that which will have the greatest and 
 most direct influence upon the preacher's success. We 
 mean the pathetic part of the discourse, or, what is 
 techincally called, the art of persuasion, through an 
 appeal to the passions of our hearers. We beg the 
 }'oung preacher's careful attention, whilst we endeav- 
 our, as concisely as possible, to explain the essential 
 
Persuasion. 388* 
 
 and most important part which persuasion, or, the art 
 of influencing the will holds in eveiy true and suc- 
 cessful sermon. 
 
 Up to this point our explanations have been princi- 
 pally directed to show the preacher how he is to ex- 
 plain and to prove the Christian doctrine ; in other 
 words, how he is to enlighten the undei-standing, bring 
 truth before the intellect, and convince his hearers. 
 But, as a sermon is of its nature a pei-suasive oration, 
 and as its ultimate object is, not to discuss some abstract 
 point or some metaphysical truth, not to convince our 
 hearers that they are bound to become better men, but 
 to persuade them to do so, it is clear that our work is 
 onl}'^ partly done when we have treated of instruction 
 and argumentation. 
 
 It is one thing to convince a man that he ought to 
 change his life ; it is another to pei"suadc him to make 
 this change. This latter, this persuasion, is the ulti- 
 mate aim of all preaching, the end which the preacher 
 necessarily proposes to himself. All his instruction, 
 all his argumentation, all his previous efforts, are sim- 
 ply intended to lay the foundation on which to build 
 persuasion. It is well, it is necessary, to triumph over 
 the intellect by conviction, but what result has the 
 Christian preacher really attained if he have not also 
 moved the will, gained the heart — in one word, per- 
 suaded his hearers. 
 
 There are few men who do not believe in the exis- 
 
284 The Pathetic Part. 
 
 tence of hell, and yet how many are there who live 
 as if they did not believe this truth. And what is the 
 reason of this ? Is it from want of instruction, or from 
 defect of solid proof ? Most certainly not. But it is 
 because, although the intellect is convinced, the heart 
 is not moved. It is because there are many preachei-s 
 ■who know how to prove the Christian doctrine and to 
 convince the intellect, but compai*atively few who know 
 how to move the heart, and persuade men to practise 
 what is preached. There are many who are able to 
 point out to the sinner the road which he ought to 
 take, few who are able efficaciously to pei"suade him 
 to enter on it. 
 
 Many preachers take great pains to instruct and to 
 prove, in other words, to speak to the intellect of their 
 hearei-s ; but, mifortunately, it is not the intellect which 
 is sick, but the heart w4iich is the victim of evil pas- 
 sions, and the heart is not to be reached by cold and 
 logical reasoning. It must be touched, it must be 
 moved, it must be persuaded to embrace and put in 
 practice that truth which the intellect has presented 
 to it. Through the influence, and by the aid, of those 
 passions by which it is so deeply moved and governed, 
 it must be gained to the side of virtue. The sinner 
 must be brought not only to believe, but to practise. 
 
 To attain this great end is the aim and object of 
 persuasion, or, the art of moving the will, and persua- 
 sion is the only way of attaining it. There is naturally 
 
Persuasion. 285 
 
 in the human heart but little taste for virtue, and we 
 only efficaciously move our hearers to embrace it, when 
 we speak to them in those wann and earnest tones 
 which alone can act upon and influence the will. 
 Hence it is that St. Francis of Sales declares that we 
 have done but little in bringing conviction to the in- 
 tellect, unless we also move the will ; that we have 
 gained but a very poor result if our audience depart 
 from our sermon, convinced indeed that they ought to 
 be virtuous, but without any intention of becoming 
 so. A discource which leaves our hearers cold and 
 insensible, which does not move the most hidden depths 
 of their souls, and inspire them with strong, fervid, and 
 efficacious resolutions, may sparkle with gems of rhe- 
 toric, and be redolent of the beauties of composition ; 
 but, most assuredly, it will be neither a good nor a use- 
 ful sermon, since it wants the essential condition laid 
 down by St. Augustine, Flectendus auditor, ut movea- 
 tur ad agendum. Ideo victm^ce est Jlectere, quia fieri 
 potest, ut doceatur et delectetur, et non assentiatur. 
 Quid autem ilia duo prodei'unty si desit hoc tertium ?* 
 And we have the testimony of St. Bernard to the same 
 eflTect. Audio libeniur, qui non sibi plausum, sed mihi 
 planctum moveat.f 
 
 On the other hand, if a preacher succeed in moving 
 his hearers, if he succeed in acting upon their heai-ts, 
 all is gained. He is certain to please, since he who 
 
 * De Doct. Christ, lib. iv., cap. 12. t Serin. 9. in Cant. 
 
286 The Pathetic Part. 
 
 moves always pleases, and the more he succeeds in 
 moving the moi-e will he please. His arguments will 
 produce their full efl'ect, for the intellect will no longer 
 seek to withold its assent from the truth when the 
 heart has been already gained, and thus the victory is 
 assured. 
 
 The strength, then, of the Christian orator lies much 
 more in the power of moving, than in reasoning. Since 
 evil passions have their stronghold in the heart, it is 
 by gaining their hearts that he influences and turns 
 men to his purpose, rather than by convincing their 
 intellect, although this too is necessary. Hence, the 
 great and wonderful eft'ects produced by some sermons, 
 which, although in no wise remarkable for composi- 
 tion, are delivered with that unction, that real earnest- 
 ness, that binning zeal, which, springing from a heart 
 that is all on fire with a desire for God's gloiy and the 
 honour of His holy name, acts with such irresistible 
 force on the souls of men. 
 
 Feeling is the soul of eloquence, and it is pathos, 
 the expression of that feeling, which is the moving 
 power of the sinner's conversion, of those restitutions, 
 those reconciliations, and those other triumphs over the 
 unreg^enerate heart of man which we are allowed to 
 win, by God's permission and for the glory of His holy 
 name, through the ministry of the pulpit. It is thi'ough 
 this pathos of thought, of word, and of expression, that 
 we gain our noblest victories over the heails of our 
 
Persuasion. 38T 
 
 hearei-s and lead theni whither we will. It is in this 
 that the main secret of our success is placed. The 
 discourse which does not apply itself to the heart, 
 which does not move and gain it, is necessarily void 
 of the greatest and most noble results which should 
 attend eveiy sermon. 
 
 Moreover, although Christianity is a religion of rea- 
 son, it is still more a religion of love and of sentiment; 
 and, hence, that unction which springs from the heart 
 of him who speaks, and which goes straight to the 
 heart of him who is addressed, ought surely to be the 
 essential characteristic, the very soul of Christian elo- 
 quence. How can the Christian preacher proclaim 
 the great truths of which he is the guardian, ad salvan- 
 dos hmnines, coldly and without feeling ? When he 
 does so he forgets what is due to God whose cause he 
 pleads, and w^hose glory he defends ; what is due to his 
 brethren, whose dearest interests, for time and eternity 
 ai'e at stake ; what is due to himself, because the truths 
 which he preaches regard himself, equally with his 
 hearers, since, if they be lost through any fault of his, 
 he must render an account to God for their immortal 
 souls. What greater contradiction can be conceived, 
 what sight more strange and unaccountable, than that 
 of a Christian preacher who can speak of the most 
 tremendous judgments of God without one tone of 
 feeling in his voice, without one sign of emotion on 
 his countenance, as calmly and as coldly as if he did 
 
288 The Pathetic Part. 
 
 not believe them, as if he were merely treating some 
 abstract metaphysical truth, instead of one which is 
 practical beyond conception, one whose certainty is 
 above all argument, one which is more nearly and 
 more intimately connected with his own eternal in- 
 terests and those of his hearers, than his soul is con- 
 nected with his body ! 
 
 If all the mastei-s of profane rhetoric insist upon the 
 pathetic as the most essential part of a discourse, how 
 much more true must this be where there is question 
 of Christian preaching, when the orator very frequently 
 has to cany his point against all the influences of 
 corrupt nature, of an intellect blinded by passion, and 
 a heart hardened by sin. A man may be a great 
 philosopher without the faculty of persuading and of 
 influencing the will. He may be an accomplished 
 lecturer, although he may not know how to strike one 
 chord of the human heart, or touch one string of the 
 human soul. But, if it be true that persuasion is the 
 ultimate end of all our preaching, if it be true that a 
 sermon is essentially a pei-suasive oration, then, it fol- 
 lows, that unless he possess this geat faculty, whatever 
 else a man may be, he will never be a preacher. To 
 move is the special gift of the apostle and the man of 
 God : verUas moveat. 
 
Appeal to the Passions. 389 
 
 SECTION 11. 
 
 APPEAL TO THE PASSIONS. 
 
 If, then, persuasion be the end of every sermon, and 
 if the pathetic, or the faculty of moving, hold such a 
 leading position in its composition, it becomes both 
 interestinoj and useful to investigate how this end is to 
 be obtained, and how those movements which produce 
 it are to be directed. Let us recur to our definition. 
 Pei"suasion, as we have defined it, is the art of influen- 
 cing the Avill by ui3pealing to the passions. Alwaj'^s 
 supposing a due foundation of clear instruction and 
 solid proof, persuasion, therefore, is the fruit of a 
 successful appeal to, and moving of, the passions of the 
 human heart. 
 
 The passions are those affections or movements of 
 
 the soul Avhich are awakened at tlie sight of some 
 
 object, real or imaginar}^, and by which the will is 
 
 drawn to embrace that which is, or which it believes 
 
 to be a good, and to fly from that Avhich it deems to 
 
 be an evil. The passions Avere implanted in the soul. 
 
 to aid man in the attainment of that good which is 
 
 consonant to his nature, and the avoidina: of that evil 
 
 which is prejudicial to him. It is unnecessary to prove 
 
 that the passions in themselves are good, since they 
 
 were given to man by his Creator. It is only in their 
 
 abuse and pervei-sion that they become evil. Neither 
 19 
 
390 The Pathetic Paet. 
 
 is it necessary to devote time or space to the refutation 
 of the absurd difficulty which is sometimes raised, viz., 
 that appeals to the passions are an unfair mode of 
 influencing our hearers ; since it is at once evident 
 that there can be no persuasion without such an appeal. 
 Truth is the object of the intellect, good that of the 
 will. Man never places an act except for the attain- 
 ment of something which really is, or, which he, hie 
 et nunc, rightly or wrongly, conceives to be a good ; 
 something which will conduce to his happiness, true 
 or false ; to the perfection of his nature, and the 
 development of his being. To make me believe, it is 
 enough to show me the truth. To make me act, you 
 must show me that the action will answer some end. 
 
 Now, nothing can be an end to me which does not 
 gratify some passion or aflTection in my nature ; and, 
 therefore, in order to induce me to attain that end, you 
 must necessarily appeal to the passion or affection 
 which is to be gratified by its attainment. You tell 
 me that such a thing is for my honour, and thus you 
 appeal to my pride ; or, that it is for my interest, thus 
 appealing to my self-love, and so of the rest.* 
 
 Hence, so far from an appeal to the passions being 
 an unfair method of persuasion, it is evident that there 
 is no pereuasion without it. 
 
 Since, then, the heart of man is only efficaciously 
 moved by appealing to those j^assions by which it is 
 
 * Campbell's Philosophy of Rhetoric. 
 
Appeal to the Passions. 891 
 
 governed, it follows that the preacher who disdains to 
 call them to his aid neglects one of his most powerful , 
 means of success. K man had not revolted against his 
 Creator there would be no need to appeal to his pas- 
 sions, since they would, instinctively and of their own 
 accord, tend to that real good which is their natural 
 object ; but, inasmuch as man has perverted the pas- 
 sions which are good in themselves, and as these patr 
 sious are the source of all sin and of all rebellion 
 against God, it follows that he, omnibus pensalis, is the 
 best preacher who best knows how, not only directly 
 to influence and act upon those pure and well-ordered 
 affections or passions which may exist in the hearts of 
 his hearers, but also to oppose to the evil passions 
 which lead man from his end those contrary impulses 
 and affections by which alone he can be led back again 
 into the path of religion and duty. Affectus pravi^ 
 says Louis of Grenada, velut clavus davo, contrariis 
 affectibus pellendi sunt. 
 
 Persuasion has this advantage over simple convic- 
 tion, writes Fenelon, that it not only enables us to see 
 the truth, but paints that truth in pleasing colours, 
 and moves men efficaciously in its favour. Thus, true 
 eloquence consists in employing not only solid argu- 
 ment, but the means of interesting our hearer, and of 
 awaking the strongest passions of his soul in our favour. 
 It inspires him with indignation against ingratitude, 
 with horror against cruelty. It fills him with compas- 
 
293 The Pathetic Part. 
 
 sion for miseiy, and awakens in his heart a true love 
 for virtue, and so of the other affections. Hence, 
 according to the judgment of St. Francis of Sales, St. 
 Alphonsus Liguori, Louis of Grenada, and many other 
 eminent writers, a preacher is eloquent in proportion 
 as he is able to move the passions, and thus influence 
 the wills of his hearers ; in proportion as he knows 
 how to oppose one passion to another ; to eradicate 
 the disorderly affections which reign in the heart by 
 exciting acts of the contrary virtue. 
 
 The pert'ection of art, according to Bellefroid, con- 
 sists in leading man back to virtue through the agency 
 of that very passion by the abuse of which he has been 
 seduced and led astray. For example, you know that 
 it is shame which so often closes the mouth of the sin- 
 ner in the sacred tribunal. You oppose shame to shame. 
 You place before his eyes the last judgment with all 
 its terroi"s and you show him how awful and how irre- 
 parable is the ignominy which awaits him at that dread 
 hour, unless he overcome the false shame which now 
 renders him unfaithful to his duty. Again, you awaken 
 in the hearts of those who are kept from their duty 
 through fear of men, a much gi-eater and more legiti- 
 mate fear — viz., that of being disowned by Jesus 
 Christ before the throne of His Father, even as they, 
 through human respect, have disowned Him before 
 men. 
 
 Having thus established the general necessity of the 
 
Appeal to the Passions. 293 
 
 appeal to the piissions in order to persuade, it may not 
 be out of place to enquire soinewliat more precisely 
 into the nature of this appeal, and the manner in which 
 it is to be conducted. 
 
 And, firstly, we may remark that the appeal to the 
 passions is sometimes direct, but that, more frequently, 
 it is indirecl. 
 
 It is said to be direct when the preacher, by the 
 mere force of his own vehement passion, that passion 
 which finds expression m his burning words, in his 
 flashing eye, in his quivering voice, in his earnest ges- 
 ture, acts immediately and directly upon the hearts of 
 his hearers, and inspires them with those same senti- 
 ments and feelings with which he himself is so deeply 
 penetrated, and which he expresses with such power 
 and strength. Thus a preacher who, thoroughly moved 
 and excited himself, should, at the conclusion of a dis- 
 course on mortal sin, give utterance to a warm and 
 ardent act of contrition, would act directly upon his 
 hearers, and infallibly excite the same sentiments of 
 soiTow in their souls. 
 
 This direct action of the preacher upon the soul of 
 his hearer is the same whether it be the result of those 
 stronger passions Avhich are technically known as the 
 vehement pathetic, or of those more gentle and tender 
 emotions which the ancients named affectus mites, 
 lenes, compositi, and which we are wont to designate, 
 unction. As it has its source in that deep and burn- 
 
294 The Pathetic Part. 
 
 ing feeling or passion of the preacher which merely 
 struggles to find same inadequate expression in his 
 broken words, it is plain that it is governed by no 
 merely technical rules or restraints. That same feel- 
 ing which inspires it will regulate its utterances. 
 
 Although, most probably, we have all felt at one 
 time or another this direct action of some holy and 
 zealous preacher upon our souls, it is hard to describe 
 it, or to say in what it consists. It is the mysterious 
 and sympathetic action of one heart, truly and deeply 
 moved, upon the heart of another, which is thus influ- 
 enced and governed by it. It is the fruit of tnie and 
 genuine feeling alone, and that same feeling which in- 
 spires it will ever restrain it within due bounds, pre- 
 vent it from running to excess, or assuming any pro- 
 portion that is extravagant or misplaced. 
 
 No man has such a keen perception of what is 
 ■becoming as the man of exquisite sensibility and of 
 deep feeling ; and hence, whilst we venture to assert 
 that this poorer of acting upon the souls of our fellow- 
 men, and of inspiring them with these ardent senti- 
 meiits and emotions with which we ourselves are 
 animated, is one of the most precious gifts which a 
 preacher can possess, we can lay down no technical 
 rules»by which he may attain it. 
 
 "We can only eshort and persuade him to foster and 
 cultivate that sensibility of soul which instinctively 
 appreciates whatever is true, beautiful, and sublime ; 
 
Appeal to the Passions. 29ft 
 
 to remember that he has been made only a little lower 
 than the augels, and that the more pure and the more 
 detached he Injcomes fix)m the things of the world, the 
 more closely he will approach in his resemblance to these 
 pure spirits ; to be above all things a man of prayer, 
 a man of such intimate union.with God as to be able, 
 in the midst of all his distracting occupations to look 
 continually upon his Master's face ; a man who, hav- 
 ing been called by God to be an apostle, will never 
 lose sight either of his glorious prerogatives or his 
 terrible i-esponsibilities, but with that zeal for God's 
 glory with which the true apostle is eaten up, and 
 that charity for his brethren with which, like St. Paul, 
 he will even ask to become anathema for them, will 
 ever labour to be about his Father's business, will ever 
 burn with the desire of doingthat business more truly, 
 more earnestly, and more efficaciously. 
 
 Let the student foster to the utmost those precious 
 qualities, whether of nature or of grace, which he may 
 have received, sensibility of soul, depth of feeling, great 
 love of God, and zeal for the glory of His holy name. 
 Let him strive to acquii'e, in ever-growing fulness, those 
 qualities of mind and heart which mark the perfect 
 gentleman ; ever remembering that tlie perfect Chris- 
 tian priest, the man well-disciplined and self-possessed, 
 the man of meekness of heart and of purity of life, 
 the man forgetful of self but keenly considerate of 
 othei-s, is the most perfect gentleman in the world, in 
 
396 The Pathetic Part. 
 
 the true sense of the word. In proportion as he fostei-s, 
 cultivates, and develops these precious qualities, will 
 he acquire the power of acting upon, and of moving, 
 the hearts of his fellow-men ; and these are the only 
 means which we can suggest to him for the acquiring 
 of this sublime and precious faculty. 
 
 More commonly, as may be easily conceived, the 
 appeal to the passions is indirect. There are compara- 
 tively few men who possess the precious faculty of 
 acting, directly and immediately, without preamble or 
 preparation, solely through the force and intensity of 
 their own strong feeling, upon the hearts of their fellow- 
 men. The appeal to the passions is said to be indirect, 
 when the speaker, instead of proposing to himself to 
 move his audience by the mere force and strength of 
 his own feeling on the subject, brings before their 
 minds, without any direct display of his personal senti- 
 ments, in vigorous, earnest, and nei-vous language, 
 those scenes, circumstances, or occurrences, which he 
 deems fitting and calculated to awaken in the hearts of 
 his hearers the passions which he seeks to excite. We 
 say that such an appeal as this is indirect, because, the 
 primary object of the speaker is to paint in words the 
 scenes or circumstances, from the consideration of 
 which those feelings which he desires to excite, natu- 
 rally but indirectly, arise. 
 
 In this place, and before proceeding with the further 
 consideration of this subject, it may be useful to call 
 
Appeal to the Passions. 297 
 
 the student's attention to a matter which has an essen- 
 tial connection with this indirect appeal to the passions, 
 and which Dr. Whately treats very fully and develops 
 very ingeniously. 
 
 " A curious fact," he says, " is forced upon the atten- 
 tion of eveiy one who htis seriously reflected upon the 
 operations of his own mind — viz., that our Feelings 
 and Sentiments are not under the immediate influence 
 of the will, as is the case with the Intellectual Faculties. 
 A man may, by a direct act of his will, set himself to 
 calculate, to reason, etc., just as he does to move any of 
 his limbs ; but, on the other hand, a direct volition 
 to hope, to fear, to love or hate, to feel devotion, is 
 often quite useless and ineflectual."* Blair well remarks 
 that this matter is not sufficiently attended to by 
 preachei-s, who, if they have a point in their sermon 
 to show how much we are bound to be grateful to God, 
 or to be compassionate to the poor, are apt to imagine 
 this to be a pathetic part ; confounding the propriety 
 of being moved, with the fact of a person being or 
 not being actually under the influence of the passion. 
 In other words, many men mistake for a Ifeeling of 
 gratitude their voluntary reflections on the subject, and 
 their conviction that the case is one which calls for 
 gratitude, etc. The fact that I am bound to be deeply 
 grateful to God for all the graces he has bestowed 
 
 * "Whately's Rhetoric. 
 
298 The Pathetic Part. 
 
 upon me, is very different from a real feeling of grati- 
 tude.* 
 
 If, then, our feelings be not under the direct influ- 
 ence of the will, how, asks Whately, is the difficulty 
 to be surmounted, how are they to be reached ? And, 
 he answers, that good sense suggests the remedy. It 
 is in vain to form a will to quicken or lower the cir- 
 culation of the blood, but, we may, by a voluntary act, 
 swallow a medicine which will have that effect. In 
 like manner, although we cannot, by a direct volition, 
 excite or allay any sentiment or emotion, we may, by 
 a voluntary act, fill the understanding with such 
 thoughts as shall indirectly operate upon the Feelings 
 or Passions. And, precisely in the same manner in 
 which we thus indirectly excite any passion in our- 
 selves, are we to proceed when we desire to make the 
 indirect appeal to the passions of an audience. 
 
 Hence, the conclusion that, inasmuch as the Feelings, 
 Sentiments, etc., are not under the immediate control 
 of the will, the appeal to the passions is, as an ordinary 
 rule, indirect ; or, in other words, that no sentiment or 
 feeling is excited by thinking about it, or attending 
 to it, but, by thinking about and attending to such 
 objects as are calculated to awaken it. 
 
 To every emotion or passion Nature has adapted a 
 set of corresponding objects, and the emotion is raised 
 in the mind by bringing this object in strong, graphic, 
 * AVhately's Ehetoric. 
 
Appeal to the Passions. 299 
 
 and moving terms before it.* The foundation, there- 
 fore, of all successful execution in the way of the 
 indirct appeal to the pathetic, is to paint the object 
 of the passion which we wish to raise in the most 
 natural and striking manner, and to describe it with 
 such circumstances as are likely to awaken it in the 
 minds of others. 
 
 It is evident that this result will not be brought 
 about by mere argumentation. Arguments, no matter 
 how powerful they may be, to prove the fitness or 
 reasonableness of our being moved in a certain way, 
 merely dispose us, at the very most, for entering into 
 such an emotion, but they do not excite it. The 
 preacher, whilst employing them, speaks only to our 
 reason or our conscience, but, he must do more than 
 this. He must also speak to our heart ; and, therefore, 
 if he would excite within us the sentiment of compas- 
 sion, for example, he must not only prove to us that 
 such a sentiment is a noble disposition, but he must 
 dwell upon and develop those circumstances which 
 are calculated to awaken it. He must set before us in 
 moving terms a lively description of the distress suflered 
 by him for whom he would interest us ; and, then, 
 and not till then, our hearts begin to be moved, and 
 our compassion begins to flow. 
 
 All this supposes, of course, a close study and an 
 intimate knowledge of the human heart, and of those 
 * Blair. 
 
300 The Pathetic Part. 
 
 springs by which it is directed and governed. It also 
 supposes a facility of description, a command of 
 language, and a certain copiousness of detail in working 
 out the conceptions of the mind, or, in painting those 
 real occurrences which are presented to an audience, 
 with the object of exciting becoming feelings or emo- 
 tions. In a description of anything which is to act 
 upon the Feelings, it is evident that the more perfect 
 and complete that description is, the more complete 
 will be the success of the appeal, always supposing 
 that we do not transgress the bounds of nature, and 
 become too artificial or laboured. Quintilian explains 
 this by a very appropriate example. A person may 
 tell you, he observes, that a certain city was sacked ; 
 but, although that one word implies all that really 
 occurred, he will produce little or no impression on 
 your mind in comparison of one who brings before you 
 a description of those terrible acts of slaughter and 
 bloodshed which always accompany such a scene. 
 Or, as he adds very pithily, to tell the whole is by no 
 means the same as to tell everything. 
 
 We may, perhaps, render our meaning more clear, 
 and our idea of the difference between the direct and 
 the indirect appeal to the feelings more sensible, by an 
 example. 
 
 Let us suppose a preacher to have selected the Sa- 
 cred Passion of Christ as the subject of his discourse. 
 If he confine himself to the history of the various 
 
Appeal to the Passions. 301 
 
 stages of that tremendous tragedy, bringing forward 
 in earnest and pathetic language, but without any- 
 direct expression of his own sentiments, those circum- 
 stances of time, place, pei-son, etc., which he deems 
 most fitting to awaken feelings of compunction, grati- 
 tude, love, etc., in the souls of his hearei-s, his appeal 
 to the passions is so far indirect. But, if, without any 
 such description, or, at its conclusion, he break forth 
 into a strong and ardent expression of those sentiments 
 with which he himself has become inflamed by the 
 consideration of his subject ; and, if, by the mere force, 
 and as the mere result of this strong feeling, he suc- 
 ceed in awakening within the hearts of his hearers 
 those same sentiments by which his own is so deeply 
 moved, his appeal in this case is direct. 
 
 Hence, it will not unfrequently happen, that the 
 direct appeal will follow the indirect, which will thus 
 sen'^e as a preparation for it, whilst, at the same time, 
 it will render it more efficacious and telling. Hence, 
 too, that appeal to the passions which combines the 
 direct and the indirect, or, in other words, which 
 makes the indirect the foundation upon which the 
 direct apjDeal to the feelings rests and is built, will be 
 found, as an ordinaiy rule, not only the easiest and 
 most practicable to the preacher, but the most effica- 
 cious and the most telling upon his audience. 
 
 We have many examples of the force of the indirect 
 appeal to the feelings. One of the most striking is to 
 
302 The Pathetic Part. 
 
 be found in the Fourth Book of Kings, chap. 6, which 
 contains an account of the siege of Samaria and the 
 terrible famine suffered by the inhabitants. 
 
 " And as the king of Israel was passing by the wall, 
 a certain woman cried out to him, saying : save me, 
 my lord, O king. 
 
 " And he said, if the Lord doth not save thee, how 
 can I save thee ? out of the barn-door, or out of the 
 wine-press ? And the king said to her : What aileth 
 thee ? And she answered : 
 
 " This woman said to me : Give thy son, that we 
 may eat him to-day, and we shall eat my son to-morrow. 
 
 "So we boiled my son, and eat him. And I said 
 to her on the next day : Give thy son that we may 
 eat him. And she hath hid her son. 
 
 " When the king heard this, he rent his garments, 
 and passed by upon the wall. And all the people saw 
 the hair-cloth which he wore next to his flesh." 
 
 No words could give a more lively idea of the state 
 to which tlie inhabitants of the besieged city were 
 reduced, Avhilst no direct appeal could be so successful 
 in exciting those feelings of horror which arise within 
 in the heart at the mere recital of this terrible scene. 
 Again, how powerfully, although indirectly, the sacred 
 writer appeals to the sentiment of compassion, in 
 describing the lamentation of David over Saul and 
 Jonathan,* one of the most beautiful and touching 
 * 2 Kings, i, 17. 
 
Appeal to the Passions. 303 
 
 pieces of composition which was ever penned. And 
 more strongly still is the same sentiment excited by 
 the description of David's soitow for his unworthy son 
 Absalom. " The King therefore being much moved, 
 went up to the high-chamber over the gate, and wept 
 And as he went he spake in this manner : My son 
 Absalom, Absalom my son : who would grant me 
 that I might die for thee, Absalom my son, my sou 
 Absalom." * Who can read these words, so touching 
 in their simplicitj^ without feeling his heart excited 
 to compassion for the father who could thus bewail 
 the untimely death of his rebellious and ungrateful 
 child ; or how could the sacred writer have taken a 
 more effectual means of awakening this sentiment, than 
 by this natural and lifelike description of the King's 
 sorrow. Perhaps one of the most artistic and highly- 
 wrought examples of the indirect appeal to the pas- 
 sions is to be found in the speech of Anthony over the 
 dead body of Caesar. It is almost impossible to con- 
 ceive that any direct appeal could have been equally 
 successful in stirring up those strong and fierce passions, 
 which are represented as having been awakened by 
 this crafty but most skilful address. 
 
 It would be useless to dwell at greater length, in 
 
 this place, on the necessity of moving the passions in 
 
 order to secure the end of a persausive oration, neither 
 
 is it necessary to examine critically the nature of those 
 
 * 2 King?, xviii, 33. 
 
304 The Pathetic Pakt. 
 
 passions. The ancient rhetoricians lay down a veiy 
 elaborate system according to which the appeals to the 
 passions are to be conducted. They enquire metaphysi- 
 cally into the nature of every passion, give a definition 
 and description of it, treat of its cause, its effects, and 
 its concomitants, and thence deduce technical rules for 
 working upon it. Aristotle, especially, has discussed 
 this matter with great subtilty, and what he has writ- 
 ten may, as Blair remarks, be read with great profit 
 as a piece of moral philosophy, but we doubt whether 
 this study will have much influence in rendering the 
 preacher more pathetic, since we doubt whether any 
 mere philosophical knowledge will do mucli to give a 
 man the power of moving. For this refison, and be- 
 cause we shall treat sufficiently of the subject when 
 speaking of the method of conducting the pathetic 
 part of a discourse, we have not deemed it necessaiy 
 in this place to enter into any more critical examina- 
 tion of the passions, but shall at once proceed to con- 
 sider the conditions which are requisite, and the order 
 in which the appeal to the passions is to be carried on; 
 first briefly remarking that although, as is evident, a 
 discourse does not always directly tend to persuade, 
 still that this is its general characteristic and scope, 
 since instruction and argumentation merely pave the 
 way for persuasion, of whose peculiar characteristics 
 they ought to partake, as far as is consonant to their 
 own natural and proper qualities. For example, the 
 
Appeal to the Passions. 305 
 
 first quality of an argument, no doubt, is sound I'cason- 
 ing ; but, the rhetorical argument, as we have already 
 shown, is, by its amplification, the huiguage in which 
 it is clothed, and the manner in which it is put, adapted 
 not only to convince, but, also, in a certain measure and 
 degree, to persuade. 
 
 The appeal to the passions is not confined to any 
 particular part, but may be employed throughout the 
 coui"se of a semion, as the nature of the subject and 
 the experience of the preacher may suggest. As a 
 general rule it is out of place in the introduction. It 
 comes in, both properly and powerfully, although in 
 a modified degree, at the conclusion of each part or 
 point of a sermon, since Ave there wind up some argu- 
 ment, or class of proofs, which we naturally seek to 
 drive home, not only to the intellect, but to the hearts 
 of our hearers. Its place, par excellence, where it 
 reigns supreme is, however, as we shall show later on, 
 in the Peroration, or, conclusion of a discourse. 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 CERTAIN CONDITIONS WHICH ARE REQUIRED IN HIM 
 WHO APPEALS TO THE PASSIONS, 
 
 In order to move a Christian audience, to touch the 
 
 heart and change it from vice to virtue, it is clear that 
 
 a man must be something more than a mere actor ; 
 
 that he must possess some higher qualifications than 
 20 
 
306 The Pathetic Paet. 
 
 those required in him who plays his part upon the 
 profane stage, and, who, when he is a master of his 
 art, is able to acquire such a wonderful, although 
 temporar}^ influence over the feelings of his audience. 
 
 The Christian preacher must be an orator, but, more 
 than that, he must be a man of edifying life, and a man 
 of praj-er. He nnist be a man of edifying life, since 
 his audience will not allow themselves to be truly and 
 efficaciously moved and changed by the words of one 
 whose conduct is a living and open contradiction to his 
 preaching. He must be a man of prayer, because, how- 
 ever much he may labour, and however great his nat- 
 ural talents may be, it is the all-powerful grace of God 
 alone which can crown his preaching with a fruitful 
 increase. — Paul may plant, and Apollo may water, but 
 it is God who 2:iveth the increase — and this grace he 
 will only obtain by fervent prayer for the success of 
 that great work, which, undertaken with a pure inten- 
 tion and in the simple discharge of duty, has for its 
 sole ol^ject the greater glory of God and the salvation 
 of souls. 
 
 Another essential qualitication, required in him who 
 aspires to move others, is to be first deeply moved 
 himself, and, so to speak, inspired by his subject. 
 Cor sapientis enidiet os ejus, et lahiis ejus addet gra- 
 tiam* says the Holy Ghost. The true orator, in the 
 strict sense of the word, must be a man endowed with 
 * Prov. xvi, 23. 
 
Appeal to the Passioxs. 307 
 
 lively sensibilities ; with a keen appreciation of the 
 beautiful, the sublime, and the true ; and possessed of 
 strong, but, of course, well-disciplined passions. He 
 must be able to feel, and he must be able to express 
 strongly that which he feels deeply. Experience 
 teaches that the heart alone which is itself moved is 
 aljle to move the hearts of others. "I have tried," 
 says Cicero, " all the means of moving. I have raised 
 them to the highest degree of perfection which was hi 
 my power, but, I candidly confess, that I owe my suc- 
 cess much less to my own efforts than to the force of 
 the passions which agitate me when I speak in public, 
 and which carry me out of mj-self. It was their force 
 which enabled me to reduce Hortensius to silence, and 
 to close the mouth of Cataline."* " We aspire," says 
 Quintilian, " to move others stronglj''. Let us first 
 feel in our own hearts those sentiments with which we 
 seek to animate them. How shall I soften others if 
 my own wo^ds prove that I myself am unmoved? 
 How shall I inflame the hearts of my hearei-s if I my- 
 self am cold ? How shall I draw the tears from their 
 ej^es if my own are dry ? It is impossible. You can- 
 not enkindle a conflagration without lire, as you can- 
 not fertilize a field without the dcAvs of Heaven."! 
 Hence, the well-known and familiar sentence of Horace: 
 
 " St vis me flere, dolendum est 
 
 Primum ipsi tibi." 
 
 • Orat. cxxxii, and cxxix. t Lib. vi. 
 
308 The Pathetic Paet. 
 
 And the reason of all this is veiy plain. When the 
 preacher is jDrofoundly penetrated with, and moved by 
 his subject, his interior emotion imparts to his words, 
 liis looks, his gestures, his whole bearing, a w^araith and 
 feeling which exercise an iiTesistible influence upon 
 his hearers. To this source, too, is doubtless to be 
 traced the real inspiration of the sympaihetic voice, 
 that voice, or, rather, that quality of the voice which 
 is of such inestimable value to him Avho possesses it ; 
 that quality for the acquiring of which we can lay 
 down no technical rules ; which we cannot define ; 
 which we cannot descrilje beyond saying that it is a 
 sometJiing in the tone of the preacher which exercises 
 an irresistible attraction upon his hearers ; which, 
 before he has uttered ten sentences, has enlisted them 
 instinctively on his side, and predisposed them, even 
 before they have heard his discourse, to think as he 
 thinks, and to will as he wills. We have a striking 
 feistance of this in St. Ignatius Loyola, yih.o, although 
 he preached with the utmost simplicity of language, 
 did so with such an unction and emotion, that, even 
 those amongst his audience who did not understand 
 the language in which he spoke were, nevertheless, 
 moved to tears by the very tones of his voice, by the 
 earnestness and burning zeal which appeared in his 
 every gestm^e and look. 
 
 If we do not really feel in our ovav heart those senti- 
 ments with which we seek to inspire others, it is vain 
 
Appeal to the Passio^sts. 309 
 
 to make pretence of possessing them. It is vain to 
 put them on as the profane actor does ; although, it 
 may be fairly doubted whether the real actor, the real 
 man of genius, does not truly succeed in making him- 
 self feel, for the time being, those affections and pas- 
 sions which he expresses so powerfully, and by whose 
 means he acts so wonderfully on his audience. 
 
 It is the heart alone which speaks to the heart, and 
 uo failure is more deplorable, as no pretence is more 
 absurd, than that of the preacher who seeks to move 
 others, and to inspire them with deep emotions and 
 generous sentiments, whilst his own heart is perfectly 
 cold and unmoved, dead to those feelings which he 
 aspires to awaken in them. In such a case his gesti- 
 culation is in excess, and his tears are but pretended. 
 There is neither reality, depth, nor meaning in his 
 aflected emotion. Either he moves his audience to 
 laughter at his ridiculous acting, or he inspires them 
 with compassion for his utter failm'e. 
 
 Let us listen for a moment to St. Francis of Sales : 
 " Your words," he says, " must be inflamed, not by 
 cries and excessive gesticulation, but by the interior 
 warmth and feeling of your soul. They must spring 
 from the heart rather than from the mouth. It has 
 been beautifully said that it is the heart which appeals 
 to the heart, the tongue only speaks to the ears." 
 Hence the reason whj' some preachers who are, in a 
 certain sense of the word, very popular, produce so 
 
310 The Pathetic Paet. 
 
 little real fruit. Their discourses are composed in the 
 most brilliant style, and are brimming with figures of 
 speech, and flowers of rhetoric. So far as regards 
 mere composition, nothing is wanting ; and, yet, as 
 ^ve listen to the preacher whilst he pours forth all this 
 beautiful language, we cannot help experiencing a 
 sensation that he does not really feel the sentiments 
 which he expresses ; that his language does not spring 
 warm from his lieart ; that he is, to speak the plain 
 inivarnished truth, but a declaimer. On the same 
 groimd we can explain the success of those holy men 
 who conduct tlie " Missions ," which produce such 
 wonderful results. It is not that they are more learned, 
 that they instruct more clearly, or reason more pro 
 foundly than ordinary preachers ; but it is because they 
 understand better how to appeal to the heart, and 
 l)ecause they speak with the burning words of men 
 who appreciate very keenly the interests of God and 
 the salvation of souls. Their words carry not only 
 conviction, but persuasion, to the hearts of their 
 hearers, and hence the triumphs over sin, over haljits 
 which appeared inveterate, and over passions which 
 seemed invincible, which are the glorious results of a 
 successful "Mission." Hence, too, the extempore ser- 
 mon is, positis ponendis^ often so much more successful 
 than the discourse which is written and committed to 
 memory, since it gains in force and feeling what it may 
 lose in mere strict correctness of composition. Dr. 
 
Appeal to the Passioxs. 311 
 
 Newman has the following beautiful and practical 
 remaite on thit> subject : — 
 
 *' Earnestness creates earnestness in others by sym- 
 pathy ; and the more a preacher loses and is lost to 
 himself, the more does he gain his brethren. Nor is it 
 ■without some logical force also ; for what is powerful 
 enough to absorb and possess a preacher, has at least a 
 prima facie claim of attention on the part of his 
 hearers. On the other hand, anything which inter- 
 feres with this earnestness, or which argues its absence, 
 is still more certain to blunt the force of the most 
 cogent argument conveyed in the most eloquent lan- 
 guage. Hence it is that the great philosopher of anti- 
 quit}"", in speaking, in his Treatise on Rhetoric, of the 
 various kinds of pereuasives which are available in the 
 Art, considers the most authoritative of these to be 
 that which is drawn from personal traits of a moral 
 nature evident in the orator ; for such matters are 
 cognizable by all men, and the common sense of the 
 world decides that it is safer, when it is possible, to 
 commit oneself to the judgment of men of character, 
 than to any consideration addressed merely to the 
 feelings or the reason. 
 
 " On these grounds I would go on to lay down a 
 precept, which I trust is not extravagant, when allow- 
 ance is made for the preciseness and the point which 
 are miavoidable in all categorical statements upon 
 matters of conduct. It is that preachers should neglect 
 
312 The Pathetic Pakt. 
 
 everything besides devotion to their one object, and 
 earnestness in enforcing it, till they in some good 
 measure attain to these requisities. Talent, logic, learn- 
 ing words, manner, voice, action, all are required for 
 the perfection of a preacher ; but ' one thing is neces- 
 sary,' — an intense perception and appreciation of the 
 end for which lie preaches, and that is, to be the 
 minister of some detinite spiritual good to those who 
 hear him. Who could wish to be more eloquent, more 
 powerful, more successful than the Teacher of the 
 Nations ? yet who more earnest, who more natural, 
 who more unstudied, who more self-forgetting than 
 he? . . . I do not mean that a preacher must aim 
 at earnestness, but that he must aim at his object, which 
 is to do some spiritual good to his hearei-s, and which 
 will at once make him earnest. It is said that, when 
 a man has to cross an abyss by a narrow plank thrown 
 over it, it is his wisdom not to look at the plank, along 
 which lies his path, but to fix his eyes steadily on the 
 point in the opposite precipice, at which the plank 
 ends. It is by gazing at the object which he must 
 reach, and ruling himself by it, that he secures to him- 
 self the power of walking to it straight and steadily. 
 The case is the same in moral matters ; no one will 
 become really earnest, by aiming directly at earnest- 
 ness ; any one may become earnest by meditating on 
 the motives, and by drinking at the sources, of earn- 
 estness. We may of coui^se work ourselves up into a 
 
Appeal to the Passions. 313 
 
 pretence, nay into a paroxysm, of earnestness ; as we 
 may chafe our cold hands till they are warm. But 
 when we cea-se chafing, we lose the warmth again ; on 
 the contrary, let the sun come out and strike us with 
 his beams, and we need no artificial chafing to be warm. 
 The hot words, then, and energetic gestures of a preach- 
 er, taken by themselv^es, are just as much signs of earn- 
 estness, as rubbing the hands or flapping the arms to- 
 gether are signs of warmth ; though they are natural* 
 where earnestness already exists, and pleasing as being- 
 its spontaneous concomitants. To sit down to compose 
 for the pulpit, with a resolution to be eloquent, is one 
 impediment to persuasion ; but to be determined to be 
 earnest is absolutely fatal to it. 
 
 " He w^ho has before his mental eye the Four Last 
 Things, will have the true earnestness — the horror or 
 the rapture of one who witnessed a conflagration, or 
 discerned some rich and sublime prospect of natural 
 scenery. His countenance, his manner, his voice, speak 
 for him, in proportion as his view has been vivid and 
 minute. The great English poet has described this 
 sort of eloquence, when a calamity had befallen : 
 
 Tea, this man's brow, like to a title page, 
 Foretells the nature of a tragic volume. 
 Thou tremblest, and the whiteness in thy cheek 
 Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand. 
 
 "It is this. earnestness, in the supernatural order, 
 w^hich is the eloquence of saints ; and not of saints only, 
 
314 The Pathetic Paet. 
 
 but of all Christian preachers, according to the measure 
 of their faith and love. As the case would be with 
 one who has actually seen what he relates, the herald 
 of tidings of the invisil)le world also will be, from the 
 nature of the case, whether vehement or calm, sad or 
 exhulting, always simple, grave, emphatic, and per- 
 emptory ; and all this, not because he has proposed to 
 himself to be so, but because certain intellectual con- 
 *victions involve certain external manifestations."* 
 
 We may, therefore, lay it down as a general prin- 
 ciple in this matter that a preacher, in order to move, 
 must himself be deeply impressed with his subject, and 
 intimately affected by it. 
 
 But the difficulty of course is to secure these essential 
 conditions. It is easy enough when Nature has en- 
 dowed a preacher, and it is one of her most precious 
 gifts, with that keen and tender sensibility of soul which 
 enables him at once, not only to appreciate^ but to feel, 
 whatever is true, beautiful, and sublime. It is easy 
 for such a man to be eloquent, to pour forth from the 
 hidden depths of his own heart, those grand ide^is, those 
 noble sentiments, those generous emotions, which move 
 his hearers even as he himself is moved. It is this 
 exquisite sensibility which imparts all their charm to 
 the wi'itings of Fenelon, which renders some of the 
 compositions of St. Bernard so pathetic in the truest 
 * Uuiversity Preaching. % 
 
Appeal to the Passions. 315 
 
 meaning of the word, and which inspires some of the 
 master-pieces of St. John Chr3-.sostom. 
 
 If a man have not received the gift of this precious 
 sensibihty, although he may become a great lecturer, 
 he will never become a great preacher. Incapaljle of 
 true feeling ' or emotion himself, how can he excite 
 these sentiments in others ? Let him who has received 
 these inestima1)le gifts in their fulness labour to develop 
 them to the highest degree. Let him who has received 
 them in a lesser measure, labour all the more earnestly 
 to turn to the very best account tlie talent which it has 
 pleased his Master to entrust to him. Let both the one 
 and the other be persuaded, as we have already said, 
 that pm'ity of life, that a spirit of prayer and detach- 
 ment from the world, that a burning zeal for the glory 
 of God and the salvation of immortal souls, are the 
 most efficacious meaiis of nourishing and developing 
 these precious qualities. If a man be pure, if he be a 
 man of prayer, if his soul be truly inflamed with zeal 
 for the glory of God and the salvation of the souls for 
 whom He died, it is impossible for him to speak coldly 
 and without feeling on those sublime and imjiortant 
 subjects which are so intimately and essentially con- 
 nected with the dearest interests of his Master, and of 
 his flock. Such a man must necessarily be a man of 
 feeling, in a higher or lower degree ; and, in that 
 degree also, he must necessarily be an eloquent man. 
 
 Although internal feeling is the soul of eloquence, 
 
316 The Pathetic Part. 
 
 still, it is evident, that the preacher, in order to act 
 upon his hearers, must be able to paint vividly those 
 sentiments which he feels deepl3\ Hence the neces- 
 sity of what is technically called word painting. 
 
 The great orator not only expresses his sentiments, 
 but he paints them. The inward feeling shows itself 
 in the tones of his voice, in his gesture, in his counte- 
 nance ; in a word, in the whole exterior deportment 
 of the preacher, which bears witness to the reality and 
 the depth, as well as to the extent, of that feeling. It 
 also not rarely gives shape and form to his very words, 
 and, when this is the case, its result is the most power- 
 ful and vivid kind of word-painting, and that direct 
 action of the preacher upon the souls of his hearers 
 which has already been desci'ibed. 
 
 When, however, the inspiration may not be so 
 intense, nor its influence upon our words so keen and 
 direct, we must in order to give vivid expression to 
 our sentiments, avail ourselves of those other succours 
 which are placed at our disposal, viz., imagination, 
 rhetoric, and taste. 
 
 The imagination is that faculty of the soul which 
 represents objects, the creations of the mind or actual 
 occurrences, in such a lively manner, and mider such 
 various points of view, as to bring them in distinct 
 and living form before us. It renders them, so to 
 speak, tangible and real ; it gives them " a local habi- 
 tation and a name ;'' it clothes the naked and perhaps 
 
Appeal to the Passions. 317 
 
 uninviting truth in those rich and beautiful garments 
 of conception and of expression which render it potent 
 to interest, to soften, and to move. The fruits of the 
 imagination, says Longinus, animate and give life to a 
 discourse ; they captivate and persuade. The means 
 of cultivating and develo]|ing this inestimal)le faculty, 
 so precions in itself, so useful and so necessaiy to the 
 orator, consists in representing vividly to oneself those 
 actions of which we speak, just, as if we ourselves had 
 seen them, and were merely relating what we liad seen ; 
 in studying deeply circumstances of persons, time, 
 place, and manner — attending principally to those 
 which are best adapted to appeal to the imagination ; 
 imd in reading good authors — obsei*ving how they, by 
 lively images, render their ideas sensible and real, and 
 thus bring them home in all their vivid reality to the 
 minds and hearts of their readers. 
 
 Rhetoric is the auxiliary on which the imagination 
 principally relies for aid, cultivation, development, and 
 expression. The vivid conceptions of the imagination 
 find their most lively and most telling expression in the 
 principal rhetorical figures ; as in exclamations and 
 apostrophes, especially such as are addressed in tender 
 and fervent words to God ; in interrogation, the most 
 lively and spirited of all the figures of rhetoric ; in 
 dialogue, which brings the preacher and his audience 
 into the most direct and intimate relation with each 
 other, and which, therefore, is so well adapted to impart 
 
318 The Pathetic Paet. 
 
 life to a discourse ; in soliloquy, by which the hearer 
 is made to enter into himself, to reproach himself for 
 the past, and inspire himself with good resolutions for 
 the future ; in adjuration, which consists in calling 
 God, His saints, the altar, the cross, or the very walls 
 of the church, to bear witness to the pious intentions 
 of our audience ; in fine, in those sighs and ardent 
 desires which the pious preacher addresses to God 
 during his sermon for the conversion of his flock, for 
 the grace of causing them to love the God who poured 
 forth. His precious blood for their salvation. When 
 the preacher speaks from a heart that is animated by a 
 lively faith and a tender love, he is certain to speak 
 with effect. A short prayer ; an aspiration of love, 
 zeal, or desire of God's glory ; one glance of his eyes 
 to heaven ; even a single sigh, coming from such a 
 man, is sufficient to impart a force to the most simple 
 reflections Avhich will move an audience to tears. Such 
 is the effect of sanctity and zeal in a preacher. 
 
 Finally, the orator must l)e a man of good taste — 
 that pure and delicate instinct which intimately ap- 
 preciates whatever is truly beautiful ; which discovers 
 intuitively whatever is false, coarse, or unbecoming ; 
 which renders an idea or sentiment with perfect truth 
 and perfect propriety. Without its control and direc- 
 tion the imagination runs riot ; and rhetoric scatters 
 its flowers without order or discernment. Governed 
 and directed liy good taste, imagination and rhetoric 
 
Appeal to the Passioxs. 319 
 
 are restrained within due limits. The colours which 
 are to embellish and give beauty to a discourse are dis- 
 tributed with wisdom, instead of being lavished with 
 tasteless profusion. Everything is in its place, where 
 it ought to be, and as it ought to be. The great and 
 important faculty of taste is cultivated and developed 
 by the study of good models, by the habit of reflec- 
 tion, and by a severe and unsparing criticism of our 
 own compositions, whether spoken or written. 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to add, that the true orator 
 is not only animated by strong feelings, but that he 
 expresses those feelings in the proper language of the 
 passions. The language of the man who is under the 
 influence of real and strong passion, is simple and un- 
 affected. Altogether taken up by the feeling which 
 has so deeply moved him, he scarcely bestows a thought 
 upon the manner in which he gives expression to it. 
 He merely seeks to represent it in all its circumstances 
 as strongly as he feels it. He has no time, and less in- 
 clination, to think about mere words, and hence the 
 simplicity and perhaps plainness of the language which 
 he employs. His expression, his voice, his gesture, are 
 regulated by the depth of his feeling, and althoi?gh 
 his language may be bold, although he may employ 
 strong figures, he will use neither frippery ornament 
 nor mere finerv. His figures w^ill be those of thought 
 rather than of Avords ; and, as his thoughts are bold, 
 ardent, and simple, so will the figures of which he 
 
320 The Pathetic Paet. 
 
 makes use and the whole tenor of his language par- 
 take of the same qualities. As Dr. Blair remarks on 
 this matter, if he were to stay until he could work up 
 his style, he would infallibly cool his ardour, and, 
 losing his ardour, he would touch the heart no more. 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 THE ORDER TO BE OBSERVED IN APPEALING TO THE 
 
 PASSIONS. 
 
 That the appeal to the passions may produce its due 
 effect, it must be conducted with great wisdom and dis- 
 cretion, and, in as far as true passion and feeling can 
 be subjected to fixed rules, according to the general 
 principles laid down on this mattei" by the great 
 authorities on oratory. 
 
 1. In the first place, there must be a natural relation 
 of convenience and agreement between our subject and 
 the ajjpeal to the passions. In other words, the sub- 
 ject, and that part of it especially to which we apply 
 the pathetic, must admit of this appeal. There are 
 simple subjects in which a vehement appeal to the 
 passions would be utterly ridiculous. There are others, 
 as for example, the enormity of sin, the death of the 
 sinner, judgment, hell, etc., which admit of the most 
 powerful appeals to the feeling of our hearer. Strong 
 appeals to the passions are here in their proper place, 
 and, when employed by a preacher who is truly pene- 
 
Appeal to the Passions. 321 
 
 trated by his subject, they produce the most striking- 
 and consoling results. Again, there are other subjects, 
 as the love of God and our neighbour, heaven, patience, 
 charity, etc., in treating -which it is necessary and be- 
 coming to appeal to the more tender passions of the 
 soul. Indeed, under this head avc may range the 
 greater number of those subjects which the preacher 
 will have to treat, since our holy religion is founded 
 on charity and love, and since tlie heart of the sinner 
 is much more easily gained, as a general rule, b}' 
 sweetness than through fear. Hence, too, Ave may 
 conclude that the leading characteristic of pulpit 
 oratory should be unction, that sweet, pious, and affec- 
 tionate effusion of a heail Avhich is full of God, which 
 makes its wa^^, without violence or uproar, into the 
 soul of the hearer ; which awakens there the most 
 tender and most becoming emotion, and thus gains it 
 to God with all its aspirations and all its powers. 
 Amongst the great French preachers, Mjissillon reigns 
 supreme in the possession of this quality. 
 
 2. We must gradually prepare the way for the 
 appeal to the passions. We must have gained, in the 
 first place, the understanding and judgment of our 
 hearers ; so that, when the warmth of feeling and the 
 emotion produced by the appeal to the passions shall 
 have passed, they may be convinced that they acted as 
 reasonable men, that there were sufficient grounds foi' 
 
 their entering into the cause, and that thev were not 
 21 
 
322 The Pathetic Part. 
 
 carried away by mere delusion. Preparing them in 
 this manner by instruction and solid argumentation, 
 we lead our hearers by degrees to the appeal to the 
 feelings, which thus appears to come in as a natural 
 consequence of what has been said. If we throw in 
 these appeals abruptly, without order or a proper 
 preparation of the minds of our audience to receive 
 them, we depart from the great principles laid down 
 by nature, and instead of becoming pathetic, w^e 
 run the risk of becoming ridiculous. This precaution 
 is doubly necessaiy when we know our hearers 
 entertain dispositions which are anything but favour- 
 able to our purpose. We must in these circumstances 
 commence, as we have already said, by entering into 
 their thoughts, and conforming ourselves to their situa- 
 tion. We must then gently soothe, and thus remove, 
 the passions which are opposed to those which we 
 wish to excite ; and finally, appeal to those feelings 
 and emotions which we aspire to a^vaken in them. If 
 we do not thus gradually and carefully prepare 
 the way for the appeal to the passions, it is imjjossible 
 that it can produce any real or lasting effect. 
 
 3. Every appeal to the passions ought to be properly 
 sustained, and not concluded with too much haste, or 
 with any undue and ill-timed brevit}'. No lasting im- 
 pression will be produced on the heart, if, in order to 
 pass on to something else, we hastily leave mideveloped 
 the emotion which may have begun to manifest itself. 
 
Appeal to the Passioxs. 323 
 
 By neglecting properly to sustain the emotion which 
 we profess to excite, we prove that it was merely fac- 
 titious, that it had no real foinitlation in our own heart ; 
 and thus we destroy its eft'ect. At the same time our 
 hearei-s who had begun to be moved, and who were 
 delivering themselves up, willingly and gladly, to those 
 emotions which we had succeeded, to some extent, in 
 exciting in them, finding that the preacher suddenly 
 stops short and concludes where they thought that he 
 was but commencing, also, on their side, draw back 
 and return to their coldness and insensibility. It is a 
 great want of tact and of taste, when we have once 
 begun to appeal to the feelings of our hearers, to leave 
 that appeal imperfect and only half worked out. 
 When once undertaken we should labour to render it 
 as complete as possible, developing it in its varied 
 bearings with all the energy at our command, that 
 thus we may enter more intimately into the hearts of 
 our hearers and move them more deeply. Unless we 
 render om* appeal thus effective we had .better leave 
 it alone. 
 
 4. Whilst we labour to prepare our audience gradu- 
 ally for the appeal to their feelings, and whilst we pro- 
 perly sustain and carry out that appeal, we must equally 
 guard against another extreme — viz., the pressing of 
 those movements, or appeals, too fai\ If we must 
 know where to begin, still more must we know where 
 to leave off. 
 
324 The Pathetic Part. 
 
 The state of the soul whilst under the influence of 
 strong feeling is, to a certain degree, a state of violence, 
 and therefore it must necessarily be transitory and brief. 
 Prolonged feeling, when strong, is contrary to nature. 
 The stronger any emotion is the more brief is its 
 duration. 
 
 When, therefore, the preacher has succeeded in 
 awakening in his hearers those deep and efficacious 
 afiections which are to win the will to God, he ought 
 to he very much on his guard lest he fritter them awaj' 
 in empt}' words. Hence it is that tlie language of the 
 passions is strong, vivid, rapid — sometimes even rough. 
 It has no time to occupy itself about nicely balanced 
 periods, ingenious figures, or highly linished sentences. 
 The emotions which, rushing hot from the heart, are 
 merely finding expression in the words of the lips, are 
 only solicitous about finding that expression, not about 
 the language in which they may be worded. 
 
 There is no rule for the expression of emotions such 
 as these — for the voice in which they are uttered, and 
 the gestures by which they find additional force — save 
 those emotions themselves : just as the soldier, whose 
 whole energies are bent upon driving the enemy from 
 the gate of his city, does not stop one instant to con- 
 sider whether the spectators are admiring his efforts, 
 provided those efforts are being crowned with success. 
 AVhilst the preacher is under the influence of sincere, 
 honest, and fervent zeal ; whilst he poui"s forth his 
 
Appeal to the Passioxs. ^ 325 
 
 burning wonls from a heart inflamed with his subject 
 and the eternal interests of his flock ; let him not doubt 
 that nature will supply, in abundance, such adornment 
 and figures of speech as his subject demands or requires. 
 The veiy force, strength, and unction of his language, 
 in such circumstances, will be its best adornment. 
 
 But, as we have already said, let him be on his 
 guard against pushing this too far. That which is 
 strong must be brief, as that which is violent cannot 
 endure. Even supposing that the lungs of the preacher 
 Avere robust enough to enable him to thunder forth 
 durinof the whole course of his sermon, it does not fol- 
 low that his hearers would have courage or strength 
 enough to sustain the continued assaults of his fieiy 
 eloquence. Besides, we have shown that the appeals 
 to the ptissions, in the sense in which we have explained 
 the term, are intended to produce effects that may, to 
 a ceilain degree, be called extraordinary ; and that 
 their aid is onl}^ invoked in order to perfect the work 
 of instruction and arsrumentation. 
 
 If this be the true view of their employment, it fol- 
 lows that, as they must not be pushed too far, so neither 
 must they be employed too frequently. If employed 
 too frequently, they naturally enough lose that extra- 
 ordinar}'^ effect which rendei-s them such an efficacious 
 instrument in the hand of the preacher. If you ait- 
 continually endeavoring to awaken strong emotions in 
 the soul, she becomes, accustomed to, and hardened by 
 
326 The Pathetic Part. 
 
 them ; just as the body becomes hardened and callous 
 under repeated blows ; and thus their effect is utterly 
 destroyed. Hence, although there is no part of a dis- 
 course which ought not to be animated by his zeal and 
 rendered interesting by those temperate appeals to the 
 feelings which the nature of the subject, and the expe- 
 rience of the preacher, will infallibly suggest to him ; 
 still, it is equally true and certain that, what we may 
 call the moi-e formal appeal to the feelings, must only 
 be employed at intervals during a sermon, and with a 
 perfect agreement of fitness and relation between the 
 sentiment, its depth and expression, and the general 
 nature of our subject, as well as that particular part 
 of the sermon in which we employ it. 
 
 A natural place for the appeal to the feelings is at 
 the end of each part, or point of a discourse. It is to 
 be presumed that, during the course of our argumen- 
 tation, in establishing any one of the points of our 
 sermon, we have taken a good deal of pains to reason 
 clearly, strongly, and in such a manner as to carry 
 conviction to our audience. It is only natural that 
 we should desire to put the finishing stroke to our 
 work by an appeal to the feelings of our heai-ers ; and, 
 thus, this appeal comes in with propriety at the end 
 of each part of our discourse ; or, at the conclusion of 
 any argument which we are particularly anxious to 
 drive home. Its peculiar place, however, as we shall 
 
Peroration, or Conclusion". 327 
 
 presently show, is in the Peroration, or, Conclusion of 
 the Sermon. 
 
 In tine, the preacher in his appeals to the feelings 
 must most carefully guard against anything that is in 
 the least degree ontre, ill-timed, or in bad taste. Let 
 him carefully treasure up the wise saying of Quintiliaii 
 on this point — Nihil hahet ista res medium, sed aut 
 lacrymas meretur aut i-isum* — in other words, that 
 there is but a step between the sublime and the ridic- 
 ulous. If he aspires to the pathetic without succeeding 
 in his efforts, the probability is that he will simpl}' 
 become ridiculous ; he will certainly become cold, 
 tedious, and ineiSfective. JVe quis, sine summis ingenii 
 viribus, ad movendas lacrymas aggredi audeat. 
 Metiatur ac diligenter azstimet vires suas, et quantum 
 onus subiturus sit, intelligat.f' 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 THE PERORATION : OR, CONCLUSION OF THE DISCOURSE. 
 
 After these preliminaiy observations on "persua- 
 sion " in general, and the means by which it is to be 
 .secured, we now proceed to treat of the Peroration : 
 or. Conclusion of the Discourse. The truth, laid down 
 in our proposition and developed in the division, having 
 been sufficiently explained and confirmed by solid argu- 
 ment during the course of the sermon — in other words, 
 
 * Lib. vi, c. 1. t Ibid. 
 
338 The Pathetic Part. 
 
 the points of our discoiu'se having been thoroughly 
 established — nothing now remains but to brino- the 
 whole matter to a proper and effective conclusion. 
 
 There is no part of a discoui-se which requires to be 
 more skilfully managed, and more carefully studied, 
 than the Peroration. This is, indeed, the decisive 
 moment, the last assault which is to decide the victory. 
 Spite of our explanations, spite of our reasoning, it 
 may be that our hearers still hang back, unable to deny 
 the force of our arguments, and yet unwilling to make 
 the o-enerous sacrifices which God demands at their 
 hands. It is in these concluding and decisive moments 
 that "we are to brino; the full weioht of our zeal, of 
 our love, of our ardent desire for the advancement of 
 their best interests, to bear upon the hearts of our 
 hearers. It is in these moments that we are to rush 
 down upon them with all the highest eiforts of our 
 talent concentrated on one grand assault ; that Ave arc 
 to press the reluctant but already wavering will, from 
 every side ; that we are to leave that will, and the irre- 
 gular passions by which it is sustained, no loop-hole 
 for escape ; that, thus urged, influenced, and moved by 
 every power which one man can bring to bear upon 
 another, we may wi'ing from our hearers full and un- 
 conditional submission to the force of those arguments 
 which we have laid before them, and those conclusions 
 which we have rigorously deduced ; that thus we may 
 cbaw from the penitent's eye those saving tears which 
 
Peroration, or Coxclusiox. 329 
 
 are to wash even his deatlliest siiis away ; that thus wc 
 may awaken those generous resolutions, and obtain 
 those triumphs of grace, which are the trophies, and 
 the only ones, for which the true soldier of Christ so 
 ardently sighs. 
 
 Hence, the Peroration is, above all other parts of a 
 discourse, the place for the appeal to the passions. 
 From the general idea of the nature of those appeals 
 which we have already given it follows that the Pero- 
 ration is brief, admitting of no argument strictlj' so 
 called, nor of any long explanations. In these last 
 few decisive moments, when the will is to be finally 
 gained or lost, all must be strong, Angorous, passionate, 
 warm from the heart; Quce excellant, serventur ad 
 perorandum* says Cicero ; and Quintilian writes. Hie, 
 si usquam, totos eloquentim fontes aperire licet.-f It 
 is in these supreme moments that passion collects, and 
 animates with its own sacred fire, those strong, impet- 
 uous, and ardent appeals — those brilliant turns of 
 thought — those living expressions — those bold figures 
 of speech — those melting images — which pour forth, 
 iis it were spontaneously, from the lips of him who is 
 truly inspired by his subject and his mission. And, 
 hence it is, that the discreet and practised preacher not 
 only takes care to reserve his most telling strokes for 
 his Peroration, but also to husband suflScient physical 
 
 * De Orat. Lib. ii. + Lib. vi. c. 1. 
 
330 The Pathetic Part. 
 
 streno-th and vigour with which to deliver tliem with 
 the fullest effect. 
 
 With these remarks on the general natui-e and 
 object of the Peroration, we will now briefly consider 
 it in detail. A sermon may be either wholly argu- 
 mentative, wholly exhortator}^ or pathetic, or, as is the 
 ease with ordinary sermons, partly argumentative and 
 partly exhortatoiy. The conclusion will, naturally, 
 be in accordance with the discourse whicli it concludes. 
 
 When the sermon is altogether argumentative or 
 controversial, as may sometimes, although we imagine 
 very rarely, be required, the conclusion Avill of course 
 consist of a mere recapitulation of the arguments. 
 Such a conclusion, however, has no claim to be called 
 a Peroration in the oratorical meaning of the word. 
 
 When the sermon is altogether exhortatory, the Pero- 
 ration is, a fortiori, altogether exhortatory too, or taken 
 lip with an appeal to the passions, and this is the Pero- 
 ration strictly so called. 
 
 However, as neither of the above class of sermons is 
 likely to be frequently employed by ordinary pastors, 
 preaching to ordinary congregations, we shall not 
 spend any time in considering its proper Peroration, 
 as this is sufficiently clear from the general principles 
 which have been already laid down, and the nature of 
 the case. 
 
 The Peroration of the ordinaiy sermon, which is 
 partly argumentative and partly exhortatory or 
 
Peroration, or Conclusion. 331 
 
 ptatlietic, comprises as a general rule, which of course 
 sutrei*s exceptions, four leading heads. 
 
 1. The first point in such a conclusion is a brief re- 
 capitulation and summary of the parts of the discourse, 
 and of those leading arguments which we deem most 
 conducive to persuasion. By thus collecting them in 
 one serried and compact body, they produce a greater 
 impression upon the mind and heart, and thus gain a 
 more complete victory over our hearers, than they do 
 Avhen merely brought forward one l^y one, and w^ithout 
 the additional strength which they acquire from mutual 
 support. Si per singula minus moverat, turba valet* 
 
 This recapitulation, however, must be extreiuely 
 brief, rapid, and almost imperceptible to the audience, 
 since they will naturally be unwilling to return over 
 the ground which they have already travelled. As 
 Cicero strikingl}^ expresses it, our end in this matter 
 is, ut memwia^ non oratio, renovata videatur.\ With- 
 out we manage it in this manner our hearei-s will not 
 listen to our recapitulation. 
 
 Besides, our object in this place is not to prove, but 
 to add additional force to those proofs which we have 
 already established. Into this recapitulation we must 
 throw as much energy and warmth, and as great 
 variety of expression as possible. Indeed, we should 
 contrive to give our hearers this brief, rapid, and vigor- 
 our resume of the leading points and arguments of 
 
 * Quiut. Lib. vi. + De luven. lib. i. 
 
332 The Pathetic Part. 
 
 our discourse, without alloAving them, in as fur as such 
 a mode of proceeding is practical)le, to perceive that 
 we are recapitulating. In other words, the matter 
 should be so arranged that, whilst, indirectly, we 
 recapitulate our nrguraents, we do it in such a manner 
 as really to make an appeal to those passions which 
 are proper to be awakened in the case. 
 
 2. The second head of the Peroration should embrace 
 the special fruit of the discourse, or the practical con- 
 clusions and resolutions regarding a more holy Jife, 
 wliich naturally flow from the great truth which has 
 formed the subject of it. St. Liguori lays down special 
 rules concerning this point, and recommends it to 
 preachers in the most earnest manner. He counsels 
 them to embody these resolutions, whenever it can be 
 done, in an act of contrition which they are to repeat 
 from the pulpit in tones of the most lively compunction 
 and of the deepest and warmest love ; since this is the 
 favorable moment, he says, in which your heaiers are 
 prepared to break forth in sighs and tears, and return 
 to the God whom they have so long, perhaps, foi-saken. 
 
 3. The third element of the Peroration consists in 
 that earnest, burning, and zealous exhortation which is 
 to penetrate the most hidden recesses of every heart, 
 which is to change every will, and render the triumph 
 of grace complete. This is the Peroration, strictly so 
 called ; and having dwelt so fully upon its nature, 
 object, and means, in other parts of this chapter, ii 
 
PERORATIO^'^, OR COXCLUSION. 333 
 
 would be ouly repetition and loss of time to delay 
 longer upon it here. We will mcrel}' remark, that, as 
 >ve ad\'ance in our Peroration, so are we to advance in 
 earnestness and fervour. The same principle holds in 
 this as in other parts of a sermon, Ut aiigeatur semper, 
 e( increscat oratio. It is very etiective when, in our 
 final appeal, we canstrongly and vividly reproduce the 
 leading idea of the whole discoui-se. It has a very 
 great effect upon our hearers, after so many solid proofs 
 and so many skilfid strokes of oratoiy have been 
 devoted to it, to see the great leading truth, the parent 
 idea, appear once more at this crowning moment in all 
 the force of its beautiful simplicity, in all the strength 
 of its unit3\ The discoui-se thus finishes where it 
 liegan, and thus exhibits itself once more in all the 
 attractiveness of that unity which is at once its beauty 
 and its streno-th. This method of concludino- becomes 
 more striking still when we close our discourse with 
 the same text of Scripture with wliich we commenced 
 it, thus fixing the seal of God's Holy Word upon that 
 which we began in His name, Avhich w^e have carried 
 on to His greater honour and glory, and which we thus 
 conclude with the self-same words which contained His 
 commission to us in the beginning, as they now place 
 the stamp of His divine authority upon the end of our 
 work, a work so humble and imperfect in itself, so 
 grand and so august as the work of His minister who 
 
334 The Pathetic Pakt. 
 
 has said, Qui vos audit, me audit • et qui vos spernit, 
 me spernit. 
 
 Finally, the Peroration is most fitly concluded by a 
 short and fervent prayer addressed to Jesus Christ, 
 His blessed mother, or His saints ; to ask grace and 
 strength to put into effect those holy resolutions with 
 which we have been inspired. Such was the custom 
 of the great preachers of antiquity. Such is the pious 
 practice of many modem orators, and, although it is 
 not of obligation, it is well worthy of imitation. 
 Massillon, Pere MacCarthy, and many other eminent 
 preachers were accustomed to clothe this concluding 
 prayer in a Scriptural garb, by putting it in the form 
 of a paraphrase of some select text of Holy Writ ; 
 and this, Ave need hardly add, rendei's it doubly efiec- 
 tive, whilst it also naturally leads the way to the 
 Benediction with which the preacher concludes his 
 discourse. 
 
 EXAMPLES. 
 
 Peroration to Archbishop Manning's Funeral Oration 
 
 of Cardinal Wiseynan. 
 
 " Great and noble in his life, he was greater and 
 nobler in his death. There were about it a calmness, a 
 recollection, a majesty, an order of perfect fitness and 
 preparation worthy of the chamber of death, and such 
 as became the last hours of a Pastor and Prince of the 
 Church of God. He Avas a great Christian in all the 
 
Peroration, or Conclusion. 335 
 
 Jeepest, largest, simplest, meaning of the name ; and 
 1 great Priest in thonght, word, and deed, in the whole 
 career of his life, and in the monld of his whole being. 
 Pie died the death of the just, making a worthy and 
 proportionate end to a course so great. 
 
 " We have lost a Friend, a Father, and a Pastor, 
 whose memory will be with us while life lasts. As 
 one who knew him well, said well of him, ' We are 
 all lowered by his loss.' We have all lost somewhat 
 which was our support, our strength, our guidance, 
 our pattern, and our pride. We have lost him who, 
 in the face of this great people, worthily represented 
 the greatness and the majesty of the Universal Church. 
 He has fallen asleep in the midst of the generous, 
 kindly, just, noble-hearted sympathy of the people, 
 the public men, the public voices of England ; a great 
 l)eople, strong and bold in its warfare, but humane, 
 chivalrous and Christian to the antagonists who are 
 Avorthy to contend with it. He is gone, but he has 
 left behind him in our memories a long line of histori- 
 cal pictures, traced in the light of other daj^s upon a 
 field which will retain its colours fresh and vivid for 
 ever. Some of you remember him as the companion 
 of your boyhood, upon the bare hills of Durham ; 
 some in the early morning of his life, in the Sanctu- 
 aries of Rome : some see before them now his slender, 
 stooping form, on a bright winter's day, walking to 
 the Festival of S. Agnes, out of the walls: some 
 
336 The Pathetic Part. 
 
 again, draw up to the full stature of his manhood 
 rising above the storm, and contending with the calm, 
 commanding voice of reason against the momentary 
 excitement of the people of England. Some again 
 can see him vested and arrayed as a Prince of the 
 Church with the twelve Suffragans of England closing 
 the long i^rocession which opened the first Provincial 
 Synod of Westminster, after the silence of thi-ee hun- 
 dred }'eiU's. Some will picture him in the great hall 
 of a Roman palace surrounded by half the Bishops of 
 the world, of every language and of eveiy land, chosen 
 by them as their chief to fashion their words in declar- 
 ing to the Sovereign Pontiff", their filial obedience to 
 the Spiritual and Temporal power with which God 
 has invested the Yicar of His Son. Some will see him 
 feeble in death, but strong in faith, arrayed as a Pon- 
 tiff' surrounded l)y the Chapter of his Church, l)y word 
 and deed verifying the Apostle's testimony, ' I have 
 fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have 
 kept the faith,' and some will cherish above all these 
 visio^is of greatness and of glory, the calm, sweet 
 countenance of their best, fiistest, friend and father, 
 l}ing in the dim light of his chamber, not of death, 
 but of transit to his crown. These things are visions, 
 1)ut the}^ are substance. ' Transit gloria niundi ' as 
 the flax burns in fire. But these things shall not pass 
 away. Bear him forth, Right Reverend Fathers and 
 dear brethren in Jesus Christ — bear him forth to the 
 
Peroration, or Coxclusiox. 337 
 
 sreeii burial-jrround on the outskirts of this l)us^• 
 wilderness of men. It was his desire to die and to ))e 
 buried, not amid the glories of Rome^but iu the midst 
 of his flock, the first Cardinal Archbishop of West- 
 minster. Lay him in the midst of that eailh, as a 
 shepherd, in the midst of his sheep, near to the Holy 
 Cross, the symbol of his life, work, and hope ; where 
 the Py;3toi'S he has ordained will be buried one by one 
 in a circle round about him in death, as they laboured 
 round about him in life. He will be in the midst of 
 us still. His name, his form, his words, his patience, 
 his love of souls, to be our law, our rebuke, oin- con- 
 solation. And yet not so : it is but the body of this 
 deatli which you bear forth with tears of loving vener- 
 ation. He is not here. He will not be there. He is 
 already where the Great Shepherd of the sheep is 
 numl^ering His elect, and those who led them to the 
 Fold of Eternal Life. And the hands which have so 
 often blessed you, which anointed you, which fed you 
 with the bread of Life, are already lifted up in prayer, 
 which never ceases day nor night for you, one by one, 
 for England, for the Church in all the world." 
 
 Peroration of Dr. JSfewman^s Sermon — " God's Will 
 the End of Life.'' 
 
 "The world goes on from age to age, but the hoi}- 
 
 Angels and blessed Saints are always crying alas, alas, 
 
 and woe, woe, over the loss of vocations, and the dis- 
 22 
 
338 The Pathetic Part. 
 
 appointment of hopes, and the scorn of God's love, 
 and the ruin of souls. One generation succeeds an- 
 other, and whenever they look down upon earth from 
 their golden thrones, they see scarcely anything but a 
 multitude of guardian spirits, downcast and sad, each 
 following his own charge, in anxiety, or in terror, or 
 .in despair, vainly endeavouring to shield him from the 
 enemy, and failing because he will not he sliielded. 
 Times come and go, and man will not believe that tliat is 
 to be which is not yet, or that what is now only continues 
 for a season, and is not eternity. The end is the trial ; 
 the world passes ; it is but a pageant and a scene, the 
 lofcy palace crumbles, the Ijusy city is mute, the ships 
 of Tarshish have sped away. On the heai-t and flesh 
 death comes ; the veil is breaking. Departing soul, 
 how hast thou used thy talents, thy opportunities, the 
 light poured around thee, the warnings given thee, the 
 grace inspired into thee ? O my Lord and Saviour, 
 support me in that hour in the strong arms of Thy 
 Saciaments, and by the fresh fragrance of Thy consola- 
 tions. Let the absolving words be said over me, and the 
 holy oil sign and seal me, and Thy own Body l)e my 
 food, and Thy Blood my sprinkling ; and let sweet Mary 
 breathe on me, and my Angel whisper peace to me, and 
 my glorious Saints and my own dear Father smile on 
 me; that in them all, and through them all , I may receive 
 the gift of perseverance, and die, as I desire to live, in Thy 
 faith, in Thy Ciiurch, in Thy service, and in Thy love." 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 FIXAL PREPAEATION". 
 
 |PON amving at this point in oui" investiga- 
 tion and having conducted the student 
 throuo;h all the stao;es of the remote and 
 proximate preparation, as well as of the actual 
 composition of his discourse, nothing now remains but 
 briefly to consider what may be styled the final prepara- 
 tion to be undergone before the preacher can confidentl}' 
 approach the delivery of his sermon. We may divide 
 this part of our subject into two sections : — I. The 
 careful revision of the written discourse ; and, II. 
 The accurate committing of it to memory — without, 
 however, entering into the question of Deliveiy, 
 properly so called, which we purpose to consider fully 
 in a second and future series of this work. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 CAREFUL REVISION OF THE ^\TIITTEN DISCOURSE. 
 
 We have taken it for granted that the young preacher 
 will T^Tite at least a considerable number of his sermons, 
 
340 Final Preparation. 
 
 jind that he will do so with jyreat care and dilisrent 
 attention. In order, however, that his success may 
 be perfect, and the fruit of his labours permanent, there 
 is yet another stage to be undergone in his preparation, 
 even after the happy and felicitous completion of his 
 written discoui-se, and this is a careful revision and 
 coiTection of his composition. 
 
 His lirst essay, no matter how happy it may have 
 been, will necessarily be full of imperfections, and 
 when the young writer treats himself too tenderly in 
 regard of these imperfections, he takes the most eifica- 
 ciou^ means he could devise of rendering them perma- 
 nent and incurable. He must, then, carefully revise 
 the first written copy of his sermon, diligently 
 correcting the construction and connection of his sen- 
 tences, the turns of thought, the figures of speech, and 
 whatever he may deem improper, incorrect, or 
 contraiy to order and precision in his expressions. 
 
 Like the skilful painter, who is never weary of 
 adding those finishino; touches which brino; out his 
 picture in all the perfection of its beauty, the diligent 
 writer is never weary of adding those figures and those 
 oratorical touches which may increase the effect of his 
 discourse, never weary of retrenching and remorselessly 
 sacrificing everything which may be irregular or not 
 to the point — of supplying that which may be want- 
 ing — of transposing that which may be out of place — 
 of modifying whatever may need modification or cor- 
 
Final Preparation. 341 
 
 rection. Always supposing that he does not interfere 
 with, nor diminish the force and freshness of his tirst 
 ideas and his original conceptions, the more he revises 
 his discourse the more will the writer contribute to its 
 perfection and beauty, since each time that he goes 
 over it he is certain to find something to amend, to 
 correct, or to change. 
 
 The first revision at least is essential. Whilst com- 
 mitting his discoui-se to memory there are many points 
 which will occur to the writer as requiring modifica- 
 tion, if not correction ; many striking figures which 
 will add to its beauty, many developments which will 
 increase its strength, arc certain to present themselves 
 to his mind, and these, of course, must be added. He 
 will also find it most useful to retouch his sermon after 
 he has delivered it, since it is in the moment of delivery 
 that the preacher sees most clearly, as well what is want- 
 ing, as what is most eftective and telling, in his discourse. 
 In fine, if he wish to render his work most perfect and 
 complete, he will, after some years spent in the preach- 
 ing of the Divine Word, read again and revise the 
 productions of his earlier days. 
 
 When reflection and experience shall have chastened 
 and matured his judgment ; when that undue tender- 
 ness for his first productions which, perhaps, dimmed 
 his sight to their imperfections, shall have passed away; 
 when tlie warmth of the youthful imagination, which 
 is a very precious gift in its own season, shall have been 
 
342 Final Preparation". 
 
 toned down by the weight of growing years ; he will 
 be better able to hold the scales with an impartial 
 Iiand, and to define the limits between what is pleasing 
 and what is useful, between what is calculated to flatter 
 the ear and what is potent to influence the will and 
 move the heart to better and holier thinos. 
 
 In this way, the sermons which he composed with so 
 much diligence and care, with so much warmth and 
 earnestness, in the first years of his ministry, will be 
 equally useful to him as time rolls on, and he becomes 
 less disposed for, or less able to undertake, the labour 
 of written composition. Nay, they will become still 
 more useful, since, to the warmth of the youthful imur 
 gination which sparkles in their pages, and to the sub- 
 stantial correctness of the doctrine and of the instruc- 
 tion which they contain, he will be able to add that 
 supereminent quality and element of success which can 
 l:>e gained in no other way, the experience and the 
 power of practical application which are acquired by 
 long years of hard work and meritorious sei-vice in the 
 cultivation of the vineyard of the Lord. 
 
 . . . . Carmen reprehendite, quod non 
 Malta dies et viulta litura coercuit atque 
 Prasectum decies non castigavit ad unguem. 
 
 Nor let the young ecclesiastic be terrified from 
 inidei-taking this revision of his sermons by the thought 
 that it is tedious, painful, and laborious. Let him 
 rather remember that it is this veiy lal)our which, if 
 
Final Preparation. 343 
 
 he have the conraa'c to uiKlcitjike it, is the surest 
 guarantee of his success. If he be valiant enough to 
 conquer these first difficulties, the habit of writing 
 quickly and well will be the certain fruit of his victoiy. 
 " I prescribe to those who conniience to write," says 
 Quintilian, "slowness and solicitude in composing."' 
 It is essential to begin by writing as well as possible : 
 facility will arise from habit. No man will ever learn 
 how to write well by writing quickly ; but, in learning 
 how to write well, he will in the end learn how to 
 write quickly. Gito scribendo non fit id hem scriba- 
 tur : bene scribendo fit ut cito* Such has ever been 
 the practice of the greatest writers in every depart- 
 ment of literature. Such, jis we learn from their own 
 testimony, has been the constant practice of those 
 illustrious pulpit orators who are of necessity the 
 models whom the young preacher is bound to place 
 before his eyes, in whose footsteps he is bound to walk, 
 with an appreciative admiration of their peifections 
 with a diligent and laborious employment of those 
 means alike indispensable to them and to him, for the 
 attainment of that excellence which they acquired in 
 such an eminent degree, and to which he aspires with 
 such a laudable ambition — the ambition of employing 
 it to the greater glory of God and the salvation of 
 immortal souls. 
 
 * Lib. X, 5. 
 
344 FiiifAL Preparation. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 NECESSITY AND MANNER OF COMMITTING THE DI& 
 COURSE TO MEMORY. 
 
 The sermon having been accurately composed and 
 carefully revised, nothing remains, in order that the 
 preacher may ascend the pulpit with confidence and 
 ease, but the perfect and expedite " possession " ol" it. 
 In other words, he must possess what he has composed, 
 if not memoriter, at least so completely, and with such 
 thorough confidence, as will enable him to deliver it 
 with ease, with fluency, and Mdth as near an approxi- 
 mation as is jDOssible under the circumstances to those 
 qualities which constitute the special attraction of the 
 extempore sermon. 
 
 There are some young preachers who, especially in 
 the commencement of their career, are so timid, so 
 nervous, and have such little command of language, 
 as not to be able to utter a single sentence unless they 
 have previously composed it. In this painful position, 
 they are constrained either to content themselves with 
 reading from the pulpit the sermon which they have 
 written, or to undergo the drudgery of committing it, 
 word by word, sentence by sentence, to memory. 
 
 Now, in no sense of the word, can reading be called 
 preacJiing. A sermon is of its very nature, as has 
 been already shown, a persuasive oration. In real 
 
Final Preparation. 345 
 
 prciifliiug, one mtiii speaks to another. From the 
 depths of his own heart, the speaker, in warm, earnest, 
 and, in a certain sense, spontaneous language, per- 
 suades, enti-eats, and exhorts his hearer to adopt and 
 embrace those views, and that line of conduct, which 
 are thus urged upon him. The sermon which is 
 Avritten and delivered memoritev, is more or less perfect 
 in proportion as it approaches, more or less closeh^, to 
 this idea of a pei-suasive oration. A sermon which is 
 prepared, at least substantially, before delivery, as 
 every sermon woilhy of the name ought to Ije pre- 
 l^ared, may be made to possess most of the good 
 qualities of the extempore discourse, without its defects. 
 The sermon which is merely read from a paper never 
 has been, and never will be, anything more than a 
 piece of reading. Such a performance never has been, 
 and never will be, made to possess those qualities of 
 warmth, of earnestness, of spontaneity, and of special 
 and varying application, which mark the persuasive 
 oration, and which are distinctive of, and indispensable 
 to, a sermon in the true sense of the word. 
 
 " While, then, a preacher will find it becoming and 
 advisable to put into writing any important discoui-se 
 beforehand, he will find it equally a point of propriety 
 and expedience not to read it in the pulpit. I am not 
 of coui-se denying his right to use a manuscript if he 
 wishes ; but he will do well to conceal it, as far as he 
 can, or, which is the most effectual concealment, what- 
 
346 FiKAL Peepakation. 
 
 ever be its counterbalancing disadvantages, to get it 
 mainly by heart. To conceal it, indeed, in one wa}^ or 
 other, will be his natural impulse ; and this very cir- 
 cumstance seems to show us that to read a sermon 
 needs an apology. For, why should he get it by heart, 
 or conceal his use of it, miless he felt that it was more 
 natural, more decorous, to do without it ? And so 
 again, if he emploj^s a manuscript, the more he appeai-s 
 to dispense with it, the more he looks off from it, and 
 directly addresses his audience, the more will he be 
 considered to preach ; and, on the other hand, the 
 more will he be judged to come shcni of preaching, 
 the more sednlous he is in following his manuscript 
 line after line, and by the tone of his voice makes it 
 clear that he has got it safely before him. What is 
 this but a popidar testimony to the fact that preaching 
 is not reading, and reading is not preaching ?"* 
 
 We take it, therefore, for granted, that the young 
 preacher will not attempt to read his discourse. But, 
 what then is he to do in those tirst days of his ministiy, 
 when he is too nervous to trust himself to deliver one 
 really extempore sentence, or, when he may be unable 
 to speak without the most accurate preparation. 
 
 There is no resource for him, during this time of 
 
 probation, but to commit his sermon to memory so 
 
 perfectly that nothing may be able to discompose him 
 
 at the moment of delivery. There is nothing which 
 
 * University Preaching. 
 
FlKAL PREPARATIOIsr. 347 
 
 gives so much contidonce to a young and nervous 
 preacher as the fact of being thoroughly master of his 
 subject. On the other hand, there is nothing so power- 
 fully calculated to embarrass and throw him into con- 
 fusion, as an imperfect "possession" of the discourse 
 which he intends to deliver. 
 
 Unable, either from nervousness, timidity, or want 
 of practice and experience, to preach extempore, and 
 having: ueo-lected to commit the discourse which he has 
 written to memory perfectly, he is certain to break 
 down. He commences well, but, after a short time, 
 he begins to hesitate, to stammer, to repeat himself, 
 and probably ends by taking his manuscript from his 
 breast and reading the remainder of his discourse. 
 Even though he should not break down so completely 
 as this, his mind will be so preoccupied with the mere 
 vecoUecting of the words of his discoui-se, as to render 
 his delivery cold and uninteresting to the last degree. 
 
 This preoccupation of mind extinguishes all fervour 
 and unction, renders his action, if he employs any at 
 all, constrained and stiff, and even deprives his voice 
 of its natural inflections. He stands before his audience 
 merely in the light of a scholar who is repeating a 
 lesson which he has learnt very badly. He com- 
 promises the dignity of his ministry ; and the intrinsic 
 merit of his discourse, no matter how great it may be, 
 is totally overlooked and forgotten in the badness of 
 his delivery. 
 
348 FiXAL PrepaKxVtion. 
 
 Tliere is no way of meeting these veiy serious draw- 
 backs to anything like success in our ministry, except 
 by committing, accurately and literall}^ to memory 
 that discourse which we have composed carefully, A 
 sermon well-committed and thoroughly possessed, 
 although it may be of merely average merit, Avill 
 appear good ; and, if it be really good, it will appear 
 excellent. It is related of Massillon, that, being asked 
 one day which of his sermons he considered the best, 
 he answered, " that which I knew the best." And 
 with perfect justice ! 
 
 We have sufficiently explained the inconveniences 
 under which the preacher who delivers a discourse 
 memoriter^ almost inevitably labours ; we have also 
 shown, that the more closely such a discourse can be 
 made to parfake of those qualities which constitute the 
 special charm of the extempore sermon, the more 
 nearly it will approach to perfection. But, it is evident, 
 that the freedom of action, the warmth, energy, and 
 unction, which characterize the extempore discourse, 
 cannot be attained, in any measure or degree, by him 
 who delivers his sermon memoritei\ unless he 
 "possess" it perfectly and imperturbably. It is 
 equally evident, that the more perfectly he " possesses " 
 it the more thoroughly he will be able to throw off 
 all unpleasant stiffness and restraint ; the more nearly 
 he will be able to approach the ease, facility, and 
 grace, which mark the accomplished orator ; the more 
 
J'lNAL Preparation. 349 
 
 o;i*iily he wall be able to give scope and play to the 
 inspirations of that zeal, and the niovenicuts of that 
 nnction, which are the special prerogatives of the 
 Christian preacher. 
 
 Such is the mcthed, and it is in truth a laborious 
 (Mie, which most young beginners will find it necessary 
 to adopt. In some circumstances, and for a certain 
 length of time, it would seem to be essential. It re- 
 quires much time, much study, and great courage, in 
 order to enable the yoimg preacher to overcome the 
 weanness and disgust which are almost inseparable 
 from it ; and this is the first great inconvenience under 
 which it labours. 
 
 In the second place, the preacher who is a slave to 
 mere words, is almost certain to break down some 
 time or other, no matter hoAV well he may have com- 
 mitted his sermon to memory. A sudden distraction, 
 the forgetting of a single word, will cause him to lose 
 the thread of his discourse, and thus become inextri- 
 cably embarrassed and confused. 
 
 Thirdly, as we have already sufficiently shown, the 
 necessity of adhering slavishly to the exact words of a 
 written discourse is one of the greatest obstacles to a 
 warm, earnest, and natural delivery. In such circum- 
 stances the preacher becomes an orator who declaims, 
 a scholar who recites a task, rather than a man who 
 gives spontaneous utterance to the convictions of his 
 mind and heart. The very constraint of his action, 
 
350 Final Pkepaeatiojst. 
 
 the very look of his eyes, betrays that it is his memory 
 rather than his intellect^ which is at work. 
 
 Lastly, and this is perhaps the most formidable 
 objection Avhich can be advanced against this practice, 
 the man who simply recites his discourse verbatim 
 from memory, who cannot say a word which he has 
 not previously written, is altogether unable to follow 
 those inspirations which the Spirit of God may impart 
 to him, during the course of his sermon. Still less 
 can he modify his discourse according to those circum- 
 stances which may present themselves, and which he 
 could not have foreseen ; neither can he vary and 
 adapt his language to the capacity of his special 
 audience. St. Liguori makes some remarks on this 
 subject which are most practical and worthy of deep 
 consideration. "T^e^kind of preachers," he says, 
 " carry their discourses in their memorj^, and, Avhether 
 they speak to the ignorant or the learned, they will not 
 change a single word. They perceive that their 
 audience do not comprehend them. No matter : they 
 will give no new developement, no further explana- 
 tion. They Avill clear up no pouit, and present it 
 under different and more intelligible aspects. They 
 will confine themselves to repeating the lesson which 
 they have learned." 
 
 Hence, although this " slavery of words " may be 
 absolutely necessary for some time in the commence- 
 ment, and, although much may be done to modify, if 
 
Final Preparation. 351 
 
 not altogether remove the inconveniences which result 
 from the system, neveilheless, in view of these incon- 
 veniences and others to which it is not necessary to 
 make more minute reference, the young preacher will 
 endeavour, prudently and by degrees, to free himself 
 from its trammels. 
 
 The faculty of memory, under an oratorical point 
 of view, may be divided into a memoiy of words, and 
 a memory of ideas. The memory of words is that 
 which retains every syllable and every phrase, precisely 
 and literally, as it w^as written. The memory of ideas 
 is that which seeks to retain the sense, the substance, 
 the foundation and connection of that which we have 
 read or written, without chaining itself down to the 
 mechanical and literal recollection of every individual 
 word or phrase. Or, in other terms, whilst the memoiy 
 of words is directed to tlie retaining of the ijmssima 
 verba of a discoui'se, the memory of ideas is directed 
 to, and is satisfied with, the retaining of the sense and 
 substance of it. 
 
 With this preliminary explanation, we venture, then, 
 to assert, that the young preacher should endeavour, 
 prudently, and in a certain degree insensibly, to abandon 
 the memor}^ of words in order to cultivate and attach 
 himself to the memory of ideas. It is scarcely neces- 
 sary to point out the reasons which should induce him 
 to adopt this latter course. The great saving of time 
 and labour ; the increased warmth, energy, and feiTOur 
 
353 Final Prepaeation. 
 
 of delivery ; the power of adapting and modifying 
 his discourse to the different wants, the special capacity 
 or needs of his flock, are motives sufficiently strong 
 and powerful. To the opinion of Quintilian, who thus 
 Avrites, Abominanda hcec infelicitaft, quad et cursum 
 dicendi refrmnat et calorem cogitationis extinguit : 
 miser enim et jwwper orator est, qui mdlum verbum 
 aequo animo perdere potest* we may add the counsel 
 of St. Augustine, who impresses upon the preacher the 
 necessity of ascertaining from the movements of their 
 body, and the expression of their countenance, whether 
 his audience comprehend him or not, and whether they 
 are moved or not b}^ his discourse. If he thus discover 
 that they do not understand him, or are not aftected 
 by what he advances, he must, according to the advice 
 of this great master of Sacred Eloquence, present his 
 subject to them in other shapes and from other points 
 of view, until he gains his end, a result which, the 
 holy doctor wisely adds, is altogether out of the reach 
 of him who is unal^le to advance a step beyond the 
 words which he has committed to memoiy.f 
 
 Whilst, however, we counsel the young preacher to 
 labour to acquire such modest confidence in himself, 
 and such prudent self-possession, as will enalile him 
 gradually to throw aside the " slavery of words," it is 
 equally necessaiy to put him upon his guard against 
 any undue reliance upon his powers, before they are 
 
 * Lib. V. iii. t De Doct,. Christ., lib. iv, 25. 
 
Final PiiEPAUAxioN. 35n 
 
 sufficiently developed and matured. In other words, 
 he must not attempt to run before he knows how to 
 walk. 
 
 If, in order to discharge his dut}^ with credit to the 
 church and himself, he find it necessaiy, even for 
 several years, to undergo the labour of writing his 
 sermons and committing them verbatim to memory, 
 he must not slirink from it, or give up his task in 
 weariness and disgust. It is his only chance of ulti- 
 mate success, but that ultimate success is certain if he 
 have only courage enough to undergo the labour, 
 which is necessary and iudispensalile to its attainment. 
 And, at the very worst, what w^ill his labour be if 
 compared to that which is undergone by the barristei', 
 for an end and with motives which surely cannot be 
 put in comparison wuth those which animate the true 
 priest of God. 
 
 As, in course of time, his knowledge becomes more 
 
 deep, ready, and expedite, w^hilst his self-possession 
 
 and facility of speaking are increased and developed 
 
 liy every succeeding appearance which he makes in 
 
 public, he will 1)e a])le to satisfy', not only himself, but 
 
 what is of much greater importance, the obligations 
 
 of his sacred calling, without the lal^our of A\Titing his 
 
 discourse from end to end, and of committing it, no 
 
 less laboriously, to memory. It will then be sufficient 
 
 for him to prepare his discourse substantialhj^ accord- 
 
 inu" to the method explained at p. 114. Instead of 
 ■Z'6 
 
354 Final PREPAKATioisr. 
 
 being tied clo^vii to the memory of words, he can 
 reasonably be satisfied with the memory of ideas ; and, 
 so, with glory to God and credit to himself, discharge 
 the obligation which the patient labour of his early 
 years will thus render easy to himself; and useful to 
 his people. 
 
 But, to repeat what we have already so frequently 
 advanced, let him neglect this prelimijiary but essential 
 labour, and growing years in the ministry will only 
 confirm him in his imperfections, without rendering 
 the real toil of preparation one degree less heavy, or 
 less painful. Having never laid the foimdatiou, it will 
 be little wonder if he never succeed in raising the 
 edifice. It will be less wonder still, if, after a time, 
 he give up the pretence of preparing his sermons at 
 all ; if he trust to the inspiration of the moment for 
 tlie word which will not be at hand when he requires 
 it — for the idea which will never be ready ; if he end 
 in becoming a declaimer of empty, vapid, meaningless 
 and useless platitudes, instead of a preacher of the 
 Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ — that Gospel which, 
 in the mouth of the true priest, is more living, effectual, 
 and piercing, than a two-edged sword. 
 
 We may conclude this portion of our subject with 
 the remark, that there is no feculty which is more 
 improvable than that of memory. It may be developed 
 to a prodigious extent by discreet and daily exercise. 
 Nothinir conduces so much to ease and facility in com- 
 
Final Prepakatiois". 355 
 
 initting a discoiii-se to meinor}' as a methodical and 
 Avell ordered style of composition, where nothing is 
 isolated, where the ideas follow and beget one another, 
 Avhcre everything is in its proper place. When his 
 discourse is drawn up in this methodical and well- 
 ordered manner, the j)reacher will hav^e no difficulty 
 in " possessing " it, at least substantially, from the ex- 
 ordium to the conclnsiou. There is no time so favor- 
 able for committing a discourse to memor}^ as the 
 silence of the night. In these moments of stillness 
 and quiet, nature perfects and finishes the work which 
 memory began. Above all things, when it is necessary 
 to call upon the memory to make a vigorous eflbrt, the 
 head must be diseniiaoed and free from troublesome 
 and distracting thoughts. These are some of the 
 principal means Avhich the preacher will find useful on 
 this matter, and they are equally applicable to the 
 memory of words, and to the memoiy of ideas. 
 
 With these precautions, the young preacher can 
 scarcely fail or utterly break down in his discourse. 
 Spite, however, of all his care, his memory may betray 
 him on some occasion or other. If he merely forget 
 some certain words, let him supply them as best he can 
 at the moment. If it be some text or phrase which 
 he cannot recall, let him pass it over. If the whole 
 thread of his argument seem to disappear, let him pass 
 on, as smoothly, and with as little embarrassment as is 
 possible under the circumstances, to the next point of his 
 
35G FlISTAL PfiEPAKATIOlSr. 
 
 discourse. The first and most essential thing is, not to 
 stop ; and the next is to hide his confusion as perfectly as 
 he is able. The danger of any such accident as th is will 
 be diminished each time that he discharges the duty 
 of preaching. Let him, before entering the pulpit, ho. 
 quite certain that he has something definite and tleavhj 
 marked out to say, and something which is worth say- 
 ing. Let him have, at least, its division, its transitions, 
 its leading arguments, and its principal figures, thus 
 clearly and definitely before his mind when he enters 
 the pulpit, and it will be hard, indeed, if he cannot 
 find words in which to express the ideas which he has 
 already conceived : if he cannot find language, not 
 merely correct, but strong, earnest, and vigorous, in 
 which to clothe those thoughts which are at once the 
 creation of an intellect which knows how to conceive, 
 and of a heart which knows how to feel, and become 
 penetrated with a subject which is undertaken at the 
 command of God, and for the greater glory of His 
 holy name. 
 
CHAPTER XT. 
 
 STYLE OP THE PULPIT. 
 
 N the introductory chapter of this investi- 
 gation into the nature of the Theoiy and 
 
 Practice of Preaching, we advanced the 
 
 proposition that the means by which the 
 sacred orator proposes to himself to obtain his end is, 
 by Instructing, by Pleasing, and by Moving his flock, 
 since these constitute the three-fold element of the 
 power by which the rhetorician acts upon the souls of 
 his fellow-men, and acquires his influence over them. 
 Veritas pateat, Veritas placeat, Veritas moveat. We 
 cannot, probably, more usefully conclude this portion 
 of oiu* enquir}^ than by a brief resume of these prin- 
 ciples, and of the manner in which this three-fold 
 element of persuasion has been applied to our subject, 
 with some practical reflections on the whole matter in 
 its relation to the style of the pulpit. In this, the 
 First Series of the Work, our object has been to in- 
 vestigate and elucidate the "Theory" of Preaching. 
 In a future series we hope to consider the " Practice" 
 of Preaching:. 
 
358 Style of the Pulpit. 
 
 Vei'tias pateat, Veritas placeat, Veritas moveat. 
 Whilst to instruct, to please, and to move, most certainly 
 constitute the three-fold element of the rhetorician's 
 power, it is scarcely necessary to add that the presence 
 of each element is not necessarily required in every 
 case in ordei; that a man may be eloquent. True elo- 
 quence is the art of acting upon, and influencing our 
 fellow-men, through the expression of our own thoughts 
 and feelings. Now, there may be circumstances in 
 which we shall most fully gain this end ]>y merel}' 
 instructing and proving, and in these circiaustances, 
 we shall be eloquent although we may not move. For 
 the same reason, if we are called upon to speak in 
 circumstances where nothing more is required from us 
 than to move, we shall be eloquent when we succeed 
 in moving, although we may have paid no attention 
 to instruction. 
 
 However, although the presence of each of these 
 three elements may not be always essential, as a 
 general rule they will be found, to some extent at least, 
 in every complete and well-ordered discourse, and in 
 the operations to which such a composition is sub- 
 mitted in the coui-se of its preparation. In the " lu- 
 vention " we find each of these elements, since, as a 
 general rule, the preacher, in tlie invention of his 
 discourse, proposes to himself to teach, to please, and 
 to move. We find them equally in the " Disposition " 
 or arrangement, since, in his " Exordium," the 
 
Style of the Pulpit. 359 
 
 pveacher seeks to plcti.sc his hearers and render them 
 aUenlos, henevolos, et docilefi : hi the " Body of the 
 Discourse " he endeavours to instruct, to teach, and to 
 prove ; and in the " Peroration " he aims at moving 
 the heart and influencing the will. 
 
 In these pages we have considered at some length, 
 and developed pretty fully, the action of what is tech- 
 nically called the logical element — Veritas j^ateat ; 
 since the chapter which treats of the " Body of the 
 Discourse" has been devoted almost exclusively to 
 this subject. We have also endeavored to investigate 
 the nature, to show the necessity, and explain the 
 manner, of employing the esthetic, or moving element 
 — Ventas moveat. We have to some extent, less fully 
 and less directly, treated of what Aristotle names the 
 political element of eloquence, that element by wliich 
 the orator gains the good will of his hearers, and 
 renders them well-disposed towards him — Veritas 
 placeat. We deemed it advisable to defer the more 
 exact consideration of this element, and of the true 
 position w^iich it holds in eloquence, to this place ; 
 since, although there is no controversy amongst writers 
 as to the necessity of instructing and of moving, there 
 is at least some apparent disagreement as to the law- 
 fulness or need of seeking to please. 
 
 Before w^e proceed to lay down any propositions on 
 this subject, it is evident that we must have come to an 
 understanding about our first principles and definitions. 
 
360 Style of the PuLPif. 
 
 Before we assert that the preacher is at liberty, or is 
 bound, to seek to please his audience, or vict-v&'sa, 
 we must clearly lay down what we understand by 
 the term, to please, as applied to the orator. In 
 many passages of his works, Cicero seems to understand 
 by the art of pleasing nothing more than the pleasant 
 balancing of one's periods, and the harmonious cadence 
 of our sentences. But, it is pretty evident, that the 
 art of pleasing, as applied to the sacred orator, can 
 never consist in this. He may please without any such 
 power of balancing his periods, without any such 
 facility in securing an harmonious cadence to his sen- 
 tences. He may fail to please, although he possess 
 these qualities in all their perfection. Nay, he may 
 fail to please simply on this account. Fenelon p his 
 Dialogue sur Feloquence, seeming to confound matters 
 which are very distinct, whilst he bestows all possible 
 commendation upon those qualities of a discourse which 
 directly tend to persuasion, rejects the opinion of those 
 who contend that the preacher, in view of his special 
 end, is also bound to seek to please. For the art of 
 pleasing he seems to substitute the art of description, 
 or, of word-painting : a quality the necessity of which 
 we have already sufficiently established as a means, but 
 not as the art itself, of pleasing, or as its substitute. 
 
 Whilst, therefore, we embrace the opinion of St. 
 Augustine that the sacred orator is bound, not only to 
 instruct and to move, but to please, we also adopt the 
 
Style of the Pulpit. 3G1 
 
 term in that broad and true signification in Avliich be 
 employs it ; and Ave assert that tbe art of pleasing, as 
 applied to tbe preacber, is neitber more nor less tban 
 tbe art of causing bimself to be listened to witb 
 pleasure, witb interest, and witb confidence. In otber 
 words, tbe preacber must be pleasing to bis bearers, 
 and tbus gain tbeir interest and confidence, tbrougb 
 tbe conviction wbicb tbey bave tbat be is a good man, 
 tbrougb tbe solidity and special fitness of tbe doctrine 
 which he proposes to them, and through the attractive 
 and engaging style of composition and delivery, in 
 which that doctrine is presented to their notice. 
 Hence, we assert tbat every preacber is bound to seek 
 to please, since, in this sense, the art of pleasing — the 
 Veritas placeat — is essential to bis success. 
 
 We have, in the preceding pages, sufficiently estab- 
 lished the absolute necessity under which the preacher 
 lies of possessing the esteem and respect of bis hearers, 
 and of •preaching a doctrine which, by its clearness, its 
 solidity, and its special adaption to their character, dis- 
 positions and necessities, may be calculated not only to 
 be useful to those who listen to him, but also thus to 
 conciliate tbat good will , esteem and respect. On these 
 points there can be no dispute. But, it may be fairly 
 asked, to what extent tbe Christian preacher is at 
 liberty, or is bound, to despise the graces of merely 
 human eloquence, that he may tbus more fully emulate 
 the simplicity of the Gospel, and the folly of tbe Cross ; 
 
362 Style of the Pulpit. 
 
 or, on the contraiy, to what extent it is lawful for him, 
 or incumbent upon him, to employ the graces of lan- 
 guage and the charms of style, that, by their means, 
 he may the more easily please his hearers, and by 
 pleasing them, gain them the more readily and eftec- 
 tively to the love and service of the Almighty God ? 
 And, on this point, we do not hesitate to advance a 
 two-fold proposition which appears to contain the 
 views which are at once the most practical, the most 
 reasonable, and the most generally received, on this 
 important subject. 
 
 Whilst we are certain that the preacher should not 
 seek to please his hearers by addressing them in a style 
 of affected elegance, or with strained eflbrt after eflect, 
 we are equally confident that he ought, with a view to 
 their conversion, to embellish the preaching of the 
 Divine Word with all the charms of true and solid 
 eloquence, in such a manner as to render it j)leasing to 
 his audience, and by this means more efficacious for 
 their conversion. 
 
 It is evident that the preacher who affects a laboured 
 elegance of style, or who strains after mere empty 
 display, loses sight, not only of the very end of his 
 preaching, but of those who are his masters and his 
 models in this holy work. 
 
 J^on doctor verbis servial, sed verba doctori* is the 
 wise and true principle of Eloquence as laid down by 
 * De Doct. Christ, lib. iv., 61. 
 
Style of the Pulpit. 363 
 
 Si. Augustine. The true orator employs words Indeed 
 to express bis ideas, but the word is ever made sub- 
 servient to the idea ; whilst he who seelis to please by 
 his affected elegance of style and of composition, is 
 vastly more solicitous about the word than about the 
 idea which it may express. He thus not only perverts 
 the word from its end, but sins against good taste 1)y 
 the manner in which he employs it. The orator who 
 is governed by good taste seeks to keep himself out of 
 sight, to cause his hearers to forget the speaker in the 
 words which he utters, and, as a natural consequence, 
 he conceals his art under the simplicity and modesty 
 of his language. He is, and he desires to appear, 
 altogether absorbed and taken up with his subject. 
 But the man who strains after mere effect, and who 
 aims at mere elegance of style, acts in direct opposi- 
 tion to this principle. Losing sight of the fact that 
 true eloquence is in the thought, and not in the mere 
 word, his whole care and solicitude are directed to the 
 elaboration of his words and the trimming of his sen- 
 tences, but although he maj'- by this means succeed in 
 amusing for a time, he Avill never reall^^ please, and 
 will very soon begin to disgust his hearers. 
 
 Such a false style of preaching is not only opposed 
 to good taste, but is unworthy of the minister of the 
 Gospel. The man who preaches in this style lowers 
 himself to the level of the young rhetorician whose 
 whole energies are directed to the turning of a phrase. 
 
364 Style of the Pl'lpit. 
 
 He desTacles the Word of God to the service of human 
 eloquence, instead of making human eloquence subser- 
 vient to the Gospel of Christ. Instead of entering 
 the pulpit absorbed with the great idea of the dignity 
 of his mission, and penetrated with an intimate appreci- 
 ation of the grandeur of those subjects which he is 
 privileged and commanded to preach — the glory of 
 God, and the salvation of immortal souls, he -carries 
 with him, even into the presence of God, nothing but 
 his o^vn narrow views, his own petty interests, and his 
 own wretched vanity and self-seeking. The preacher 
 simply degrades himself when, in place of searching 
 the hearts, awakening the conscience, and withdrawing 
 them from the sinful pleasures of the world, he pro- 
 poses to himself to tickle the ears, and minister to the 
 diseased appetites of his hearers. It was not thus that 
 St. Paul preached, nor was it by these means that he 
 rendered the Gospel pleasing even to the educated and 
 fastidious Corinthians. It is not by such a style of 
 preaching as this that the Christian orator is to subdue 
 his age, to become the judge and not the slave of his 
 hearers, to speak to his audience as their master and 
 not as their servant. If he have ever fully realized 
 the great idea of Pere MacCarthy that the Christian 
 orator is not a preacher but a converter^ he will no 
 longer seek to please the ear, l3ut to change the heart, 
 to cure the sick instead of merely trying to amuse and 
 distract them. If he ever employ those ornaments 
 
Style of the Pulpit. 365 
 
 which may l)ec'onie his subject and his style, ho avIII 
 not use them for their own sake alone, but agreeably 
 to the counsel of St. Augustine : Fertur imjjeta suo, 
 et elocutionis pulchrUudinem, si oocurrerit, vi rerum 
 rupit, non cnra decoris assumit. 
 
 Nor can anything be more prejudicial to real success 
 than this affected style of preaching. ]Most surely 
 God will never bless the preaching of those who 
 preach themselves, instead of Jesus Christ, and Him 
 crucified : and no matter how elegant it may l)e in 
 composition, no matter how redolent of the choicest 
 flowei-s of rhetoric, the word that does not receive the 
 fruitful l)lessing of God, will be barren and sterile. 
 
 Looking at the question from a merely human point 
 of view, is it not evident that the preacher who bestows 
 all his attention upon the mere turn of his phrase, the 
 choice of his expression, and the harmony of his 
 periods, will most substantiallj^ interfere with the force, 
 the energy, the strength, and the' freedom' of his com- 
 position ? It becomes a conflict between the head and 
 the heart, between the ideas to be expressed and the 
 mere words in which they are to be clothed, and the 
 heart and the idciis are sacrificed to the intellect and 
 the words, which is a perversion of all order and of all 
 principle. Moreover, in our ordinary congregations, 
 liow^ many are there who comprehend these long 
 periods, these poetical phrases, these far-fetched meta- 
 phoi-s, these heaped-iip epithets, these newly-invented 
 
366 Style of the Pulpit. 
 
 and fantastic words ? But, even supposing them to 
 be intelligible, they produce no fruit, because, being 
 as they are, the inspiration of the mei-ely human spirit, 
 smacking much more of the schools than of the 
 Gospel, they bring no grace to the soul, they wi-ite no 
 salutary impressions upon the heart, they partake in 
 no sense and in no degree of the qualities and of the 
 effects of that Divine "Word which is more piercing 
 than any two-edged sword, which reaches unto the 
 divisions of the soul and the spirit, and is a discerner 
 of the thoughts and intents of the heait. 
 
 No ; let the young preacher be assured that it is 
 not by empty words, by affected elegance of style, by 
 mere figures of speech, that he will lead his hearers to 
 the feet of Jesus Christ ; that he will gain his greatest 
 triumphs over the powers of sin and of hell. Let him 
 rather study to imitate the examples which are placed 
 before him in his Divine Master and the Saints. Who 
 could haver preacheil so eloquently if He had wished, 
 who could have turned to such account the graces of 
 st3'le and the charms of language, as our Divine Lord ? 
 Nevertheless, the preacher will find nothing of this 
 kind in the Sermons of his Lord and Master. Elevated 
 and profound in thought, they are simple and pojDular 
 in expression. Replete with thoughts and principles 
 of morality that are worthy of the study of the most 
 elevated intellect, these thoughts and these principles 
 are couched in lano-uao-e which brings them home at 
 
Style of the Pulpit. 3G7 
 
 once to the mind and the lieai't of the humblest hearers. 
 It was thus that the Apostle of the Nations made 
 known the will of God to his hearers. Prmdkatio 
 mea non in persuasifdlibus humanoe saptentioe verbis. 
 Mhil me Christus evangelizare non in sapientia vcrbi, 
 id nan evacaetiir ci'ux Chrisd* And such, too, has 
 been the preaching and the practice of all the Saints 
 of God who have been called upon to preach His 
 Holy Gospel. 
 
 But, whilst we thus condemn and reprobate that 
 affected style of jireaching which sacrifices sense to 
 sound, which seeks to please simply for the sake of 
 jDleasing, we are no less certain that the preacher of 
 the Gospel is bound, with a view to the conversion of 
 his people and the becoming discharge of his duty, to 
 adorn the Word which he preaches with all the 
 charms of a true and solid eloquence. 
 
 The truth of this assertion will be sufficiently estab- 
 lished if we consider for a moment the constitution of 
 the human heaii;, the respect which is due to the 
 Word of God, and the constant practice of the greatest 
 preachei"s of antiquity. 
 
 There is amongst men an involuntary esteem for the 
 eloquence which captivates their attention, enchains 
 their interest, and keeps them hanging upon the lips 
 of him who speaks with such power and force. On 
 the other hand, there is a natural disgust and avei"sion 
 " 1 Cor. i et ii. 
 
3G8 Style of the Pulpit. 
 
 to him who speaks badly. Now, all this is doiil)tless 
 the result of that self-love which causes us to listen 
 with pleasure to those who, by the correctness of their 
 language, and the diligence with wdiich they have 
 prepared themselves, thus testify to the esteem in 
 which they hold us, and which causes us to turn away 
 ^viih weary impatience and disgust from those who do 
 not address us in such terms as we deem due to our 
 position, education, etc. Having its foundation in 
 self-love, no doubt this sentiment of the human heart 
 is wrong and Ijlamable. No doul^t man ought not 
 allow himself to be influenced, nor his judgment to be 
 warped, by these views. But, we must take man as 
 he is, and not as he ought to be, and, therefore, if we 
 lind the heart of man thus influenced and governed, 
 if we know that there lurks within his soul this in- 
 voluntar}- esteem of him who is truly eloquent, we 
 must avail ourselves of this influence, and of this esteem, 
 to turn him to our purpose and our will ; we must 
 avail ourselves of his love of eloquence ; we must 
 strive, in our own proper measure and degree, to 
 acquire this gift in all its true and solid perfection ; 
 and this, not so much for its own sake alone, as that 
 l)y its means we may please our hearers and by pleasing 
 them, render them attentive to our instructions, docile 
 and obedient to our exhortations, and thus convert and 
 gain them to God. There is no controAcrsy as to the 
 necessit}' of moving, but, as an ordinary rule, the 
 
Style op the Pulpit. 300 
 
 preacher will hardly succeed in moving unless he is 
 also able to please, and this is evident. 
 
 These remarlcs, which are true in their application to 
 eloquence in general, acquire an additional force when 
 applied to the preaching of the Gospel. And, here 
 again, we must take men as we find them. If men 
 were all they ought to be, they would love the Gospel, 
 with its salutary precepts and its Avholesome restraints. 
 But the contrary is the fact. They listen with unwil- 
 lingness and distaste to the doctrine which proposes to 
 them christian abneiration as one of the hisfhest and 
 most indispensable of their obligations ; and, yet, we 
 must persuade them, not merely to accept our teaching 
 on this point, but to reduce it to practice. In order to 
 succeed, we shall certainly be under the necessity of 
 calling to our aid every iissistance Avhich can be legiti- 
 mately employed. Render our doctrine as agreeable 
 as we may, present it in the most attractive form that 
 we are able, and there Avill still be many who will not 
 receive it from us ! How, then, will it be, if we dis- 
 gust our hearers 1)}' the roughness of our speech, the 
 uncouthness of our huiguage, and the negligence of our 
 composition ? Let us therefore take care that ^vhilst 
 we avoid the Scylla of afi'ected elegance we do not fall 
 into the Carybdis of uncouth rusticity. The least 
 experience of the world, or of the human heart, will 
 teach us that the greater part of men requiieto be won 
 to the truth by the attr:ictive dress and the pleasing 
 
370 Style of the Pulpit. 
 
 style in which it is pi'esented to them. lUmn qui est 
 ddectatione affectus, facile quo volueris duces ■ nemo 
 ftectitur si moleste audit. 
 
 It would be easy to show, that the very respect 
 which is due to the Word of God will impose upon 
 the zealous priest the ol>ligation of doing all that lies 
 in him to present it to his audience in a proper and 
 becoming dress ; in other words, adorned Avith all the 
 '.'luunis of true and solid eloquence. Such has been 
 the view which has ever been held by those who are 
 most worthy our imitation. St. Gregory Nazianzen 
 tells us that he travelled by land and by sea to aquire 
 the art of eloquence, " I do not regret," he saj's, 
 " those pains and those fatigues which were the cost at 
 which I acquired such a precious talent. I desire to 
 possess it in all its fulness. I have aljandoned all things 
 else for God, this is the only one of my goods which 
 remains to me. I have devoted myself without reserve 
 to the art of speaking. I have made it my inheritance, 
 and I w^ill never abandon it." " Most likely," cries 
 St. Augustine, " I should never have been converted 
 if I had not been attracted to his instructions by the 
 eloquence of Ambros ;" and, hence, following in the 
 footsteps of his great master and model, St. Augustine 
 devoted all the energies of his profound intellect to 
 the study of Sacred Eloquence. With this view he 
 composed his great work — De Doctrina Christiana, 
 a work of inestimable value to the Sacred Orator, and 
 
Stylk of the Pulpit. 371 
 
 one wliose wise precepts mid sage counsels foi-m, we 
 venture to hope, the very marrow and essence of all 
 that is l)est, most sound, and most worthy of being 
 reduced to practice, in these imperfect pages of ours. 
 We take it, then, for granted, that the preacher is 
 bound to cultivate his style, that he may thus be able 
 to embellish the preaching of the word with the charms 
 of a true, a solid, and a substantial elegance. We 
 take it, too, for granted, that, in this sense of the Avord, 
 he is bound to seek to please his hearers. Not as we 
 have said, for the sake of pleasing, but, that, by render- 
 ing the doctrine which he preaches acceptable to his 
 flock, he may persuade them to- embrace its salutary 
 precepts. Whilst he remembers that he is the adjutor 
 Dez, whose blessing can alone crown his work with a 
 jfruitful increase, he will also remember that God 
 expects him to employ, in their highest and perfect 
 manner, all human means which are legitimate, for the 
 attainment of his end. He will remember, that the 
 imagination and the passions have come to man from 
 the hand of God ; that being the gifts of God, they 
 are good, and are therefore to be employed and directed 
 to His greater honour and glory Our Divine Lord 
 Himself, in His inflnite condescension, did not disdain 
 to make use of them as occasion oflered. If these 
 gifts can be abused they can also be employed to the 
 greater glory of Him who gave them. The zealous 
 preacher will ever labour thus to employ them. Em- 
 
372 Style of the Pulpit. 
 
 ploying llicni in the cnltivation, and for the ends of 
 true and sohd eh)qnence, he i« employing them legiti- 
 mately, and in snch a manner, and with snch an aim, 
 as will not fail to bi-ing glory to God, salvation to im- 
 mortal sonls, and to himself a recompense mcKjiKt 
 ni/iu's, in the fulness of which the remembrance of his 
 labors and his toils shall be swallowed up and lost for- 
 ever to his sight. 
 
 Whilst we thus take it for granted that the preacher 
 of the Gospel is bound to use his utmost efforts to 
 become truly, solidly, and substantially elo(|uent, Ave 
 also venture to hope that in these pages we have 
 sufficiently demonstrated the uatLU'c and the essential 
 qualities of pulpit eloquence. Whilst there are occa- 
 sions on which the sacred orator may, and ought, to 
 aspire, as God may give him power, to the highest 
 flights of eloquence, it will more frequently be his duty 
 and his inclination to adapt himself to the understand- 
 ing and the capacity of the humble and the ignorant. 
 Al)ove all things, the style of the pulpit is popular, in 
 the best and only true sense of the w^ord. It is simple 
 without ever becoming mean. Whilst it adapts itself 
 to the comprehension of all, it never descend to vul- 
 garity, or loses sight of the truth that simplicity of 
 thought and of expression is compatible Avith the 
 greatest purity of style and propriety of terms. It is 
 essentially clear, not merely Avith an absolute, but with 
 a relative clearness, so that the Avhole audience have no 
 
Style of the Pulpit. 373 
 
 difficulty in coini)iehciKliiig the meaning of the 
 [)ri'achor. Ever grave, ever aerious, ilattering no one, 
 wounding no one, it clothes the truth with which it 
 deals in a garment of native dignity, of sweet and of 
 modest majesty. Plena gravitatis et j^ondeii.s — it 
 never l)ecomes heavy. It never tritles, although iL 
 represents the eireunistances which it presents to an 
 audience in such a lively and sensible manner as to 
 l)ring them vividly before the mind. It is full of 
 colour — colour often-tinies of the deepest hue, but ever 
 true, ever natural ; a colour which is 1)orro\ved from 
 the writings of those divinely inspired men whose 
 pencils were guided by the Spirit of God. It knows 
 how to modify its expressions, to change its words, to 
 vary its comparisons and its arguments, to present the 
 truth which it treats in ditlcrent shapes and in dift'erent 
 forms, according to time, place, and circumstance. In 
 fine, the style of the pulpit is warm, earnest, and fervid. 
 It is at once the witness and the exponent of strong 
 convictions and of ardent feelings. It is the Grande 
 dicendi fenus of St. Augustine — that grand style 
 which has its foundations, not in mere words, but in 
 the transports of the soul which is profoundly moved. 
 It is the style whose effects are likened by St. Paul to 
 those of a two-edged sword ; the style whose concep- 
 tions and whose utterances are inspired by prayer, b}' 
 the diligent study of the Holy Scriptures, but, most 
 of all, by that determined will to attain his end which 
 
374 Style or the Pulpit. 
 
 the zealous priest of God ever proposes to himself, by 
 that hunger and thirst for souls with wJdch he is ever 
 consumed. In fine, it is the style, the cultivation of 
 which is so strongly inculcated, in his Encyclical letter 
 of 1846, by our Holy Father Pope Pius IX. whom 
 may God long preserve, and to whose supreme judg- 
 ment this work is humbly sulmiitted in undoubting 
 faith and with unwavering confidence and love. 
 
 Ut qui gloriatur, in illo glorietur, in cnjiis nianu 
 sunt et nos et sermones nostri. Sap. VII. We have 
 compiled this treatise, and we now offer it to the yomig 
 preacher in the hope that it may be of some small 
 service to him. in aiding him to discharge worthily 
 the high and holy ofiice of preaching the Gospel of 
 our Lord Jesus Christ. The lal)our of its preparation 
 will be more than recom})ensed if, spite of its imper- 
 fections, it may help even in tlie lo^vliest degree, to 
 promote the Greater Glory of God, and the Salvation 
 of Immortal Souls. 
 
 THE END. 
 
j ' W m itpm^ 
 
 ^^gam- 
 
 Date Due