DIALOGUES

CONCERNING ELOQUENCE.

THE FIRST DIALOGUE, BETWEEN 4. AND B. AND C.

A. WELL, Sir, I suppose you have been hearing the sermon to which you would have carried me. I have but very little curiosity that way, and am content with our parish minister.

B. I was charmed with my preacher. You had a great loss, Sir, in not hearing him. I have hired a pew, that I may not miss one of his Lent sermons. O! he is a wonderful man. If you did but once hear him, you could never bear any other.

A. If it be so, I am never to hear him. I would not have any one preacher give me a distaste of all others; on the contrary, I should choose one that will give me such a relish and respect for the word of God, as may dispose me the more to hear it preached everywhere. But since I have lost so much by not hearing this fine discourse you are so pleased with, you may make up part of that loss, if you will be so good as to communicate to us what you remember of it.

B. I should only mangle the sermon, by endeavoring to repeat any part of it. There were a hundred beauties in it that one cannot recollect, and which none but the preacher himself could display.

A. Well; but let us at least know something of his design, his proofs, his doctrine, and the chief truths he enlarged on. Do you remember nothing? Were you inattentive?

B. Far from it: I never listened with more attention and pleasure.

C. What is the matter then; do you want to be entreated?

B. No; but the preacher's thoughts were so refined, and depended so much on the turn and delicacy of his expres

sions, that though they charmed me while I heard them, they cannot be easily recollected; and though one could remember them, if they be expressed in other words, they would not seem to be the same thoughts; but would lose all their grace and force.

A. Surely, Sir, these beauties must be very fading, if they vanish thus upon the touch, and will not bear a review. I should be much better pleased with a discourse which has more body in it, and less spirit; that things might make a deeper impression on the mind, and be more easily remembered. What is the end of speaking, but to persuade people, and to instruct them in such truths as they can retain ?

C. Now you have begun, Sir, I hope you will go on with this useful subject.

A. I wish I could prevail with you, Sir, to give us some general notion of the elegant harangue you heard.

B. Since you are so very urgent, I will tell you what I can recollect of it. The text was this: I have eaten ashes like bread.' Now could any one make a happier choice for a text for Ash-Wednesday? He showed us that, according to this passage, ashes ought this day to be the food of our souls; then in his preamble he ingeniously interwove the story of Artemesia, with regard to her husband's ashes. His transition to his Ave Maria was very artful; and his division was extremely ingenious; you shall judge of it. 1. Though this dust,' said he, 'be a sign of repentance, it is a principle of felicity. 2. Though it seems to humble us, it is really a source of glory. 3. And though it represents death, it is a remedy that gives immortal life.' He turned this division various ways, and every time he gave it a new lustre by his

Psalm cii. 9.

The Romish preachers, in the preamble of their sermons, addressed themselves to the Virgin Mary; and are ofttimes very artful in their transition to it, as our author observes. We have a remarkable example of this in one of the greatest French orators, M. L'Esprit Flechier, bishop of Nismes, who seems to be oftener than once alluded to in these dialogues. In his panegyric on S. Joseph he introduces his Ave Maria thus:-Everything seems to concur to the glory of my subject; the Holy Spirit, Jesus Christ, and Mary, are concerned in it; why may I not hope for the assistance of one of them, the grace of the other, and the intercessions of the Virgin? To whom we will address ourselves in those words that the angel said to her, and which S. Joseph no doubt often repeated; Hail! Mary, etc.-Panegyriques, Vol. I. p. 71.

antitheses. The rest of his discourse was not less bright and elegant; the language was polite; the thoughts new; the periods were harmonious; and each of them concluded with some surprising turn. He gave such just characters of common life, that his hearers found their various pictures faithfully drawn: and his exact anatomy of all the passions equalled the maxims of the great ROCHEFOUCAULT; in short, I think it was a masterpiece. But, Sir, I shall be glad to know your opinion of it.

A. I am unwilling to tell you my thoughts, or to lessen your esteem, of it. We ought to reverence the word of God; to improve ourselves by all the truths that a preacher explains; and avoid a critical humor, lest we should lessen the authority of the sacred function.

B. You have nothing to fear, Sir, at present. It is not out of curiosity that I ask your opinion, but because I would have clear notions of it, and such solid instructions as may not only satisfy myself, but be of use to others; for you know my profession obliges me to preach. Give us your thoughts therefore without any reserve; and do not be afraid either of contradicting or offending me.

A. Since you will have it so, I must obey your commands. To be free, then, I conclude, from your account of this sermon, that it was a very sorry one.1

B. Why so?

A. Why; can a sermon, in which the Scripture is falsely applied, a scrap of profane history is told after a dry, childish manner, and vain affectation of wit runs throughout the whole; can such a sermon be good?

B. By no means; but I do not think that the sermon I heard is of that sort.

A. Have patience, and I doubt not but you and I shall agree. When the preacher chose these words for his text, 'I have eaten ashes like bread,' ought he to have amused his audience with observing some kind of relation between the

"A preacher may propose a very regular method, prosecute it very exactly, express himself all along with abundance of accuracy, and, if you will, of elegance too; adorn the whole with many a fine flower and artificial trapping of language; in short, deliver a very pretty harangue, a very genteel discourse, as it is commonly termed; which yet may prove, after all, but a sorry sermon, and in reality good for little, but to amuse superficial judges, and to convince thorough ones that the man aspires to the reputation, without the qualifications of an orator."-FORDYCE, on Pulpit Eloquence.

mere sound of his text, and the ceremony of the day? Should he not first have explained the true sense of the words, before he applied them to the present occasion?

B. It had been better..

A. Ought he not, therefore, to have traced the subject a little higher, by entering into the true occasion and design of the Psalm, and explaining the context? Was it not proper for him to inquire, whether the interpretation he gave of the words was agreeable to the true meaning of them, before he delivered his own sense to the people, as if it were the word of God?

B. He ought to have done so: but what fault was there in his interpretation?

A. Why, I will tell you. David, (who was the author of the one hundred and second Psalm,) speaks of his own misfortunes: he tells us, that his enemies insulted him cruelly, when they saw him in the dust, humbled at their feet, and reduced (as he poetically expresses it) to eat ashes like bread,' and 'to mingle his drink with weeping.' Now, what relation is there between the complaints of David, driven from his throne, and persecuted by his son Absalom; and the humiliation of a Christian, who puts ashes on his forehead, to remind him of his mortality, and disengage him from sinful pleasures? Could the preacher find no other text in Scripture? Did Christ and his apostles, or the prophets, never speak of death, and the dust of the grave, to which all our pride and vanity must be reduced? Does not the Scripture contain many affecting images of this important truth? Might he not have been content with the words of Genesis,1 which are so natural and proper for this ceremony, and chosen by the church itself? Should a vain delicacy make him afraid of too often repeating a text that the Holy Spirit has dictated, and which the church appoints to be used every year? Why should he neglect such a pertinent passage, and many other places of Scripture, to pitch on one that is not proper ? This must flow from a depraved taste, and a fond inclination to say something that is new.

B. You grow too warm, Sir: supposing the literal sense of the text not to be the true meaning of it, the preacher's remarks might however be very fine and solid.

C. As for my part, I do not care whether a preacher's

1 Gen. 3: 19.

thoughts be fine or not, till I am first satisfied of their being true. But, Sir, what say you to the rest of the sermon? A. It was exactly of a piece with the text. How could the preacher give such misplaced ornaments to a subject in itself so terrifying, and amuse his hearers with an idle story of Artemesia's sorrow; when he ought to have alarmed them, and given them the most terrible images of death?

B. I perceive then you do not love turns of wit, on such occasions. But what would become of eloquence if it were stript of such ornaments? Would you confine everybody to the plainness of country preachers? Such men are useful among the common people; but persons of distinction have more delicate ears, and we must adapt our discourses to their polite taste.

A. You are now leading me off from the point. I was endeavoring to convince you, that the plan of the sermon was ill laid, and I was just going to touch upon the division of it; but I suppose you already perceive the reason why I dislike it, for the preacher lays down three quaint conceits for the subject of his whole discourse. When one chooses to divide a sermon, he should do it plainly, and give such a division as naturally arises from the subject itself, and gives light and just order to the several parts; such a division as may be easily remembered, and at the same time help to connect and retain the whole; in fine, a division that shows at once the extent of the subject, and of all its parts. But, on the contrary, here is a man who endeavors to dazzle his hearers, and puts them off with three points of wit, or puzzling riddles, which he turns and plies so dexterously, that they must fancy they saw some tricks of legerdemain. Did this preacher use such a serious, grave manner of address, as might make you hope for something useful and important from him? But, to return to the point you proposed; did

"A blind desire to shine and to please, is often at the expense of that substantial honor which might be obtained, were Christian orators to give themselves up to the pure emotions of piety, which so well agree with the sensibility necessary to eloquence.' -ABBE MAURy's Principles of Eloquence, sect. 9.

"Uncommon expressions, strong flashes of wit, pointed similes, and epigrammatic turns, especially when they recur too frequently, often disfigure, rather than embellish, a discourse. It commonly happens, in such cases, that twenty insipid conceits are found for one thought which is really beautiful.”—HUME's Essays.