successfully made use of in instructions purely moral; and that it succeeds much better in mysteries,* in funeral orations and panegyrics, where the text will not suit the discourse unless it makes known the subject, and at least indirectly comprehends the division.

It is easy to find in the Holy Scriptures verses consonant to the principal idea which we intend to express; and we are always pleased with the orator for those successful applications which, in some measure, render sacred the plan he hath chosen.†

· SECTION VIII.

OF THE PROGRESSION OF THE PLAN.

WHETHER it be a moral subject that is discussed, or one's talent be exercised upon panegyrics or mysteries, it is always necessary to observe a specified progression in the distribution of the plan, in order to impart an increasing force to the points adduced, to give weight to the argument, and energy to the

Fr. dans les Mysteres. The author probably means here the solemn services of the church, such as feasts, fasts, communions, &c.

"I must confess I always disliked a forced text. Have you not observed that a preacher draws from a text whatever sermons he pleases? He insensibly warps and bends his subject to make the text fit the sermon he has occasion to preach. This is frequently done, but I cannot approve of it," t,”—Dialogues concerning Eloquence, p. 146.

rhetorical movements. It is as rare as it is difficult to render both parts of a sermon equally excellent, because the same resources seldom present themselves to the imagination of the orator. The latter, however, ought to excel the former. Eloquence always declines when it ceases to rise. It is therefore to the second branch of the division that the most persuasive arguments and pathetic sentiments ought to be reserved.

Cicero, whose plan is very distinct in all his orations, although seldom announced in the exordium, adopts a method very favour able to the advancement of his proofs, which obliges him to be surpassing himself continu ally by fresh efforts, in proportion as he pro ceeds in the difficulties of his subject. Open his orations. He at once denies the fact which is opposed to him; and afterward he proves that, by taking its truth for granted, nothing could thereby be concluded against his client. I shall only quote here two striking examples of this excellent method.

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

The plan of the oration in favour of Milo is no less forcible. "Milo," says he, “hath not slain Clodius; if he had slain him, he

would have done well." The mind of man cannot reason with more perspicuity and energy.

Nor are we to conclude that Cicero proceeds thus accidentally on some particular occasions. "In his oratorical divisions," in that charming dialogue where this great man submits to an examination upon this art, by answering all the questions which his son puts to him upon eloquence, Cicero establishes, as a fixed rule, this manner of dividing the discourse. He says, "It is thus you ought to reason; you must either deny the fact that meets you, or, if you admit it, you must prove that the consequences which your opponent has drawn do not result from it.' I am

aware how seldom it is that we can follow this course in our pulpits, where the subjects discussed are not always doubtful; but the more we imitate this method, the nearer we shall arrive at perfection.

SECTION IX.

OF THE INJURY WIT DOES TO ELOQUENCE.

To all those rules which art furnishes for conducting the plan of a discourse, we pro

* Aut it a consistendum est ut quod objicatur factum neges aut illud quod factum fateare neges eam vim habere, atque id esse quod adversarius criminetur.-Parag. 29, 101.

ceed to subjoin a general rule from which orators, and especially Christian orators, ought never to swerve.

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

It is unquestionably to be wished that he who devotes himself to the arduous labours which preaching requires, should be wholly ambitious to render himself useful to the cause of religion. To such, reputation can never be a sufficient recompense. But if

in

motives so pure have not sufficient sway your breast, calculate, at least, the advantages of self-love, and you may perceive how inseparably connected these are with the success of your ministry.

Is it on your own account that you preach? Is it for you that religion assembles her votaries in a temple? You ought not to indulge so presumptuous a thought. However, I only consider you as an orator. Tell me, then, what is this you call eloquence? Is it the wretched trade of imitating that criminal, mentioned by a poet in his satires, "who balanced his crimes before his judges with

antithesis?""* Is it the puerile secret of forming jejune quibbles? of rounding periods? of tormenting one's self by tedious studies in order to reduce sacred instruction into a vain amusement? Is this, then, the idea which you have conceived of that divine art which disdains frivolous ornaments, which sways the most numerous assemblies, and which bestows on a single man the most personal and majestic of all sovereignties? Are you in quest of glory? You fly from it. Wit alone is never sublime; and it is only by the vehemence of the passions that you can become eloquent.†

Crimina rasis

Librat in antithesis.-Pers. Sat. i, 1. 85, 86.

+ Mr. Hume judiciously observes that " productions which are merely surprising, without being natural, can never give any lasting entertainment to the mind. Too much ornament is a fault in every kind of production. Uncommon expressions, strong flashes of wit, pointed similes, and epigrammatic turns, especially when they recur too frequently, are a disfigure. ment rather than any embellishment of discourse. As the eye, in surveying a Gothic building, is distracted by the multiplicity of ornaments, and loses the whole by its minute attention to the parts; so the mind, in perusing a work overstocked with wit, is fatigued and disgusted with the constant endeavour to shine and surprise. This is the case where a writer overabounds in wit, even though that wit, in itself, should be just and agreeable. But it commonly happens to such writers, that they seek for their favourite ornaments even where the subject affords them not; and by that means have twenty insipid conceits for one thought which is really beautiful."-Hume's Essays. Ess. xix, pp. 240, 241.