HINTS

 ON

 EXTEMPORANEOUS PREACHING. 

 BY HENRY WARE, JR. MINISTER OF THE SECOND CHURCH IN BOSTON. 

 Maximus vero studiorum fructus est, et velut præmium quoddam amplissimum longi laboris, ex tempore dicendi facultas. 

 _Quinct. _ x. 7. 

 BOSTON: PUBLISHED BY CUMMINGS, HILLIARD & CO. 1824. 

 University Press--Hilliard & Metcalf. 

 TO THE STUDENTS IN THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY IN HARVARD UNIVERSITY, THIS LITTLE TREATISE, WITH THE SINCEREST PRAYERS THAT THEY MAY BECOME PROFOUND DIVINES AND POWERFUL PREACHERS, IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED BY THE AUTHOR. 

CONTENTS. 

 CHAPTER I. Advantages of Extemporaneous Preaching

 CHAPTER II. Disadvantages--Objections considered

 CHAPTER III. Rules

PREFACE. 

It is the object of this little work, to draw the attention of those whoare preparing for the christian ministry, or who have just entered it, to a mode of preaching which the writer thinks has been too muchdiscountenanced and despised; but which, under proper restrictions, heis persuaded may add greatly to the opportunities of ministerialusefulness. The subject has hardly received the attention it deservesfrom writers on the pastoral office, who have usually devoted to it buta few sentences, which offer little encouragement and afford no aid. Burnet, in his Treatise on the Pastoral Care, and Fenelon in hisDialogues on Eloquence, have treated it more at large, but still verycursorily. To their arguments and their authority, which are of greatweight, I refer the more distinctly here, because I have not quoted themso much at large as I intended when I wrote the beginning of the secondchapter. Besides these, the remarks of Quinctilian, x. 7. On the subjectof speaking extempore, which are full of his usual good sense, may bevery profitably consulted. 

It has been my object to state fully and fairly the benefits whichattend this mode of address in the pulpit, and at the same time to guardagainst the dangers and abuses to which it is confessedly liable. Howfar I may have succeeded, it is not for me to determine. It would besomething to persuade but one to add this to his other talents for doinggood in the church. Even the attempt to do it, though unsuccessful, would not be without its reward; since it could not be fairly madewithout a most salutary moral and intellectual discipline. 

It is not to be expected--nor do I mean by any thing I have said tointimate--that every man is capable of becoming an accomplished preacherin this mode, or that every one may succeed as well in this as in theordinary mode. There is a variety in the talents of men, and to somethis may be peculiarly unsuited. Yet this is no good reason why _any_should decline the attempt, since it is only by making the attempt thatthey can determine whether or not success is within their power. 

There is at least one consequence likely to result from the study ofthis art and the attempt to practise it, which would alone be asufficient reason for urging it earnestly. I mean, its probable effectin breaking up the constrained, cold, formal, scholastic mode ofaddress, which follows the student from his college duties, and keepshim from immediate contact with the hearts of his fellow men. This wouldbe effected by his learning to speak from his feelings, rather than fromthe critical rules of a book. His address would be more natural, andconsequently better adapted to effective preaching. 

HINTS ON EXTEMPORANEOUS PREACHING. 

CHAPTER I. 

It is a little remarkable that, while some classes of christians do nottolerate the preaching of a written discourse, others have an equalprejudice against all sermons which have not been carefully precomposed. Among the latter are to be found those who favor an educated ministry, and whose preachers are valued for their cultivated minds and extensiveknowledge. The former are, for the most part, those who disparagelearning as a qualification for a christian teacher, and whose ministersare consequently not accustomed to exact mental discipline, nor familiarwith the best models of thinking and writing. It might seem at firstview, that the least cultivated would require the greatest previouspreparation in order profitably to address their fellow-men, and thatthe best informed and most accustomed to study might be best trusted tospeak without the labor of written composition. That it has been thoughtotherwise, is probably owing, in a great measure, to the solicitude forliterary exactness and elegance of style, which becomes a habit in thetaste of studious men, and renders all inaccuracy and carelessnessoffensive. He who has been accustomed to read and admire the finestmodels of composition in various languages, and to dwell on thoseniceties of method and expression which form so large a part of thecharm of literary works; acquires a critical delicacy of taste, whichrenders him fastidiously sensitive to those crudities and roughnesses ofspeech, which almost necessarily attend an extemporaneous style. He isapt to exaggerate their importance, and to imagine that no excellenciesof another kind can atone for them. He therefore protects himself by thetoil of previous composition, and ventures not a sentence which he hasnot leisurely weighed and measured. An audience also, composed ofreading people, or accustomed to the exactness of written composition inthe pulpit, acquires something of the same taste, and is easily offendedat the occasional homeliness of diction, and looseness of method, whichoccur in extemporaneous speaking. Whereas those preachers and hearers, whose education and habits of mind have been different, know nothing ofthis taste, and are insensible to these blemishes; and, if there be onlya fluent outpouring of words, accompanied by a manner which evincesearnestness and sincerity, are pleased and satisfied. 

It is further remarkable, that this prejudice of taste has been sufferedto rule in this way in no profession but that of the ministry. The mostfastidious taste never carries a written speech to the bar or into thesenate. The very man who dares not ascend the pulpit without a sermondiligently arranged, and filled out to the smallest word, if he had goneinto the profession of the law, would, at the same age and with nogreater advantages, address the bench and the jury in languagealtogether unpremeditated. Instances are not wanting in which theminister, who imagined it impossible to put ten sentences together inthe pulpit, has found himself able, on changing his profession, to speakfluently for an hour. 

I have no doubt that to speak extempore is easier at the bar and in thelegislature, than in the pulpit. Our associations with this place are ofso sacred a character, that our faculties do not readily play there withtheir accustomed freedom. There is an awe upon our feelings whichconstrains us. A sense, too, of the importance and responsibility of thestation, and of the momentous consequences depending on the influence hemay there exert, has a tendency to oppress and embarrass theconscientious man, who feels it as he ought. There is also, in the othercases, an immediate end to be attained, which produces a powerfulimmediate excitement; an excitement, increased by the presence of thosewho are speaking on the opposite side of the question, and in assailingor answering whom, the embarrassment of the place is lost in theinterest of the argument. Whereas in the pulpit, there is none toassault, and none to refute; the preacher has the field entirely tohimself, and this of itself is sufficiently dismaying. The ardor andself-oblivion which present debate occasions, do not exist; and thesolemn stillness and fixed gaze of a waiting multitude, serve rather toappal and abash the solitary speaker, than to bring the subject forciblyto his mind. Thus every external circumstance is unpropitious, and it isnot strange that relief has been sought in the use of manuscripts. 

But still, these difficulties, and others which I shall have occasion tomention in another place, are by no means such as to raise thatinsuperable obstacle which many suppose. They may all be overcome byresolution and perseverance. As regards merely the use of unpremeditatedlanguage, it is far from being a difficult attainment. A writer, whoseopportunities of observation give weight to his opinion, says, inspeaking of the style of the younger Pitt--"This profuse andinterminable flow of words is not in itself either a rare or remarkableendowment. It is wholly a thing of habit; and is exercised by everyvillage lawyer with various degrees of power and grace. "[1] If there becircumstances which render the habit more difficult to be acquired bythe preacher, they are still such as may be surmounted; and it may bemade plain, I think, that the advantages which he may thus ensure tohimself are so many and so great, as to offer the strongest inducementto make the attempt. 

 [1] Europe; &c. By a Citizen of the United States. 

That these advantages are real and substantial, may be safely inferredfrom the habit of public orators in other professions, and from theeffects they are known to produce. There is more nature, more warmth inthe declamation, more earnestness in the address, greater animation inthe manner, more of the lighting up of the soul in the countenance andwhole mien, more freedom and meaning in the gesture; the eye speaks, andthe fingers speak, and when the orator is so excited as to forget everything but the matter on which his mind and feelings are acting, thewhole body is affected, and helps to propagate his emotions to thehearer. Amidst all the exaggerated colouring of Patrick Henry'sbiographer, there is doubtless enough that is true, to prove a power inthe spontaneous energy of an excited speaker, superior in its effects toany thing that can be produced by writing. Something of the same sorthas been witnessed by every one who is in the habit of attending in thecourts of justice, or the chambers of legislation. And this, not only inthe instances of the most highly eloquent; but inferior men are foundthus to excite attention and produce effects, which they never couldhave done by their pens. In deliberative assemblies, in senates andparliaments, the larger portion of the speaking is necessarilyunpremeditated; perhaps the most eloquent is always so; for it iselicited by the growing heat of debate; it is the spontaneous combustionof the mind in the conflict of opinion. Chatham's speeches were notwritten, nor Sheridan's, nor that of Ames on the British treaty. Theywere, so far as regards their language and ornaments, the effusions ofthe moment, and derived from their freshness a power, which no studycould impart. Among the orations of Cicero, which are said to have madethe greatest impression, and to have best accomplished the orator'sdesign, are those delivered on unexpected emergencies, which precludedthe possibility of previous preparation. Such were his first invectiveagainst Catiline, and the speech which stilled the disturbances at thetheatre. In all these cases, there can be no question of the advantageswhich the orators enjoyed in their ability to make use of the excitementof the occasion, unchilled by the formality of studied preparation. Although possibly guilty of many rhetorical and logical faults, yetthese would be unobserved in the fervent and impassioned torrent, whichbore away the minds of the delighted auditors. 

It is doubtless very true, that a man of study and reflection, accustomed deliberately to weigh every expression and analyze everysentence, and to be influenced by nothing which does not bear the testof the severest examination, may be most impressed by the quiet, unpretending reading of a well digested essay or dissertation. To somemen the concisest statement of a subject, with nothing to adorn thenaked skeleton of thought, is most forcible. They are even impatient ofany attempt to assist its effect by fine writing, by emphasis, tone, orgesture. They are like the mathematician, who read the Paradise Lostwithout pleasure, because he could not see that it proved any thing. Butwe are not to judge from the taste of such men, of what is suitable toaffect the majority. The multitude are not mere thinkers or greatreaders. From their necessary habits they are incapable of following along discussion except it be made inviting by the circumstancesattending it, or the manner of conducting it. Their attention must beexcited and maintained by some external application. To them, Action is eloquence, and the eyes of the ignorant More learned than their ears. 

It is a great fault with intellectual men, that they do not makesufficient allowance for the different modes of education and habits ofmind in men of other pursuits. It is one of the infelicities of auniversity education, that a man is there trained in a fictitious scene, where there are interests, associations, feelings, exceedingly diversefrom what prevail in the society of the world; and where he becomes sofar separated from the habits and sympathies of other men, as to need toacquire a new knowledge of them, before he knows how to address them. When a young man leaves the seclusion of a student's life to preach tohis fellow-men, he is likely to speak to them as if they were scholars. He imagines them to be capable of appreciating the niceties of methodand style, and of being affected by the same sort of sentiment, illustration, and cool remark, which affects those who have beenaccustomed to be moved and guided by the dumb and lifeless pages of abook. He therefore talks to them calmly, is more anxious for correctnessthan impression, fears to make more noise or to have more motion thanthe very letters on his manuscript; addressing himself, as he thinks, tothe intellectual part of man; forgetting that the intellectual man isnot very easy of access, that it is barred up, and must be approachedthrough the senses and affections and imagination. 

There was a class of rhetoricians and orators at Rome in the time ofCicero, who were famous for having made the same mistake. They would doevery thing by a fixed and almost mechanical rule, by calculation andmeasurement. Their sentences were measured, their gestures weremeasured, their tones were measured; and they framed canons of judgmentand taste, by which it was pronounced an affront on the intellectualnature of man to assail him with epithets, and exclamations, and variedtones, and emphatic gesture. They censured the free and flowing mannerof Cicero as "tumid and exuberant, " nec satis pressus, supra modumexultans et superfluens. They cultivated a more guarded and concisestyle, which might indeed please the critic or the scholar, but waswholly unfitted to instruct or move a promiscuous audience; as was saidof one of them, oratio--doctis et attente audientibus erat illustris; amultitudine autem et a foro, cui nata eloquentia est, devorabatur. Thetaste of the multitude prevailed, and Cicero was the admiration of thepeople, while those who pruned themselves by a more rigid andphilosophical law, _coldly correct and critically dull_, "werefrequently deserted by the audience in the midst of their harangues. "[2]

 [2] Middleton's Life of Cicero, III. 324. 

We may learn something from this. There is one mode of address for booksand for classical readers, and another for the mass of men, who judge bythe eye and ear, by the fancy and feelings, and know little of rules ofart or of an educated taste. Hence it is that many of those preacherswho have become the classics of a country, have been unattractive to themultitude, who have deserted their polished and careful composition, forthe more unrestrained and rousing declamation of another class. Thesingular success of Chalmers, seems to be in a considerable measureowing to his attention to this fact. He has abandoned the pure andmeasured style, and adopted a heterogeneous mixture of the gaudy, pompous, and colloquial, offensive indeed to the ears of literary men, but highly acceptable to those who are less biassed by the authority ofa standard taste and established models. We need not go to the extremeof Chalmers, --for there is no necessity for inaccuracy, bombast, orfalse taste--but we should doubtless gain by adopting his principle. Theobject is to address men according to their actual character, and inthat mode in which their habits of mind may render them most accessible. As but few are thinkers or readers, a congregation is not to beaddressed as such; but, their modes of life being remembered, constantregard must be had to their need of external attraction. This is mosteasily done by the familiarity and directness of extemporaneous address;for which reason this mode of preaching has peculiar advantages, in itsadaptation to their situation and wants. 

The truth is, indeed, that it is not the weight of the thought, theprofoundness of the argument, the exactness of the arrangement, thechoiceness of the language, which interest and chain the attention ofeven those educated hearers, who are able to appreciate them all. Theyare as likely to sleep through the whole as others. They can find allthese qualities in much higher perfection in their libraries; they donot seek these only at church. And as to the large mass of the people, they are to them hidden things, of which they discern nothing. It is notthese, so much as the attraction of an earnest manner, which arrests theattention and makes instruction welcome. Every day's observation mayshow us, that he who has this manner will retain the attention of evenan intellectual man with common-place thoughts, while with a differentmanner he would render tedious the most novel and ingeniousdisquisitions. Let an indifferent reader take into the pulpit a sermonof Barrow or Butler, and all its excellence of argument and eloquencewould not save it from being accounted tedious; while an empty declaimershall collect crowds to hang upon his lips in raptures. And this manner, which is so attractive, is not the studied artificial enunciation of therhetorician's school, but the free, flowing, animated utterance, whichseems to come from the impulse of the subject; which may be full offaults, yet masters the attention by its nature and sincerity. This isprecisely the manner of the extemporaneous speaker--in whom thecountenance reflects the emotions of the soul, and the tone of voice istuned to the feelings of the heart, rising and falling with the subject, as in conversation, without the regular and harmonious modulation of thepractised reader. 

In making these and similar remarks, it is true that I am thinking ofthe best extemporaneous speakers, and that all cannot be such. But itought to be recollected at the same time, that all cannot be excellent_readers_; that those who speak ill, would probably read still worse;and that therefore those who can attain to no eminence as speakers, donot on that account fail of the advantages of which I speak, since theyescape at least the unnatural monotony of bad reading; than whichnothing is more earnestly to be avoided. 

Every man utters himself with greater animation and truer emphasis inspeaking, than he does, or perhaps can do, in reading. Hence it happensthat we can listen longer to a tolerable speaker, than to a good reader. There is an indescribable something in the natural tones of him who isexpressing earnestly his present thoughts, altogether foreign from thedrowsy uniformity of the man that reads. I once heard it well observed, that the least animated mode of communicating thoughts to others, is thereading from a book the composition of another; the next in order is thereading one's own composition; the next is delivering one's owncomposition memoriter; and the most animated of all is the utteringone's own thoughts as they rise fresh in his mind. Very few can give thespirit to another's writings which they communicate to their own, or canread their own with the spirit, with which they spontaneously expresstheir thoughts. We have all witnessed this in conversation; when we havelistened with interest to long harangues from persons, who tire us atonce if they begin to read. It is verified at the bar, and in thelegislature, where orators maintain the unflagging attention of hearersfor a long period, when they could not have read the same speech withoutproducing intolerable fatigue. It is equally verified in the history ofthe pulpit; for those who are accustomed to the reading of sermons, arefor the most part impatient even of able discourses, when they extendbeyond the half hour's length; while very indifferent extemporaneouspreachers are listened to with unabated attention for a full hour. Inthe former case there is a certain uniformity of tone, and a perpetualrecurrence of the same cadences, inseparable from the manner of areader, from which the speaker remains longer free. This difference isperfectly well understood, and was acted upon by Cecil, whose success asa preacher gives him a right to be heard, when he advised youngpreachers to "limit a written sermon to half an hour, and one from notesto forty minutes. "[3] For the same reason, those preachers whose readingcomes nearest to speaking, are universally more interesting than others. 

 [3] _Cecil's Remains_--a delightful little book. 

Thus it is evident that there is an attractiveness in this mode ofpreaching, which gives it peculiar advantages. He imparts greaterinterest to what he says, who is governed by the impulse of the moment, than he who speaks by rule. When he feels the subject, his voice andgesture correspond to that feeling, and communicate it to others as itcan be done in no other way. Though he possess but indifferent talents, yet if he utter himself with sincerity and feeling, it is far pleasanterthan to listen to his cold reading of what he wrote perhaps with littleexcitement, and delivers with less. 

In thus speaking of the interest which attends an extemporaneousdelivery, it is not necessary to pursue the subject into a generalcomparison of the advantages of this mode with those of reading and ofreciting from memory. Each has prevailed in different places and atdifferent periods, and each undoubtedly has advantages and disadvantagespeculiar to itself. These are well though briefly stated in theexcellent article on Elocution in Rees' Cyclopædia, to which it will besufficient to refer, as worthy attentive perusal. The question at largeI cannot undertake to discuss. If I should, I could hardly hope tosatisfy either others or myself. The almost universal custom of readingin this part of the world, where recitation from memory is scarcelyknown, and extempore speaking is practised by very few except theilliterate, forbids any thing like a fair deduction from observation. Inorder to institute a just comparison, one should have had extensiveopportunities of watching the success of each mode, and of knowing thecircumstances under which each was tried. For in the inquiry, which isto be preferred in the pulpit, --we must consider, not which has mostexcellencies when it is found in perfection, but which has excellenciesattainable by the largest number of preachers; not which is first intheory or most beautiful as an art, but which has been and is likely tobe most successful in practice. These are questions not easily answered. Each mode has its advocates and its opponents. In the English churchthere is nothing but reading, and we hear from every quarter complaintsof it. In Scotland the custom of recitation prevails, but multitudesbesides Dr. Campbell[4] condemn it. In many parts of the continent ofEurope no method is known, but that of a brief preparation andunpremeditated language; but that it should be universally approved bythose who use it, is more than we can suppose. 

 [4] See his fourth Lecture on Pulpit Eloquence. 

The truth is, that either method may fail in the hands of incompetent orindolent men, and either may be thought to succeed by those whose tasteor prejudices are obstinate in its favor. All that I contend for, inadvocating unwritten discourse, is, that this method claims a decidedsuperiority over the others in some of the most important particulars. That the others have their own advantages, I do not deny, nor that thisis subject to disadvantages from which they are free. But whatever thesemay be I hope to show that they are susceptible of a remedy; that theyare not greater than those which attend other modes; that they arebalanced by equal advantages, and that therefore this art deserves to becultivated by all who would do their utmost to render their ministryuseful. There can be no good reason why the preacher should confinehimself to either mode. It might be most beneficial to cultivate andpractise all. By this means he might impart something of the advantagesof each to each, and correct the faults of all by mingling them with theexcellencies of all. He would learn to read with more of the naturalaccent of the speaker, and to speak with more of the precision of thewriter. 

The remarks already made have been designed to point out some of thegeneral advantages attending the use of unprepared language. Some othersremain to be noticed, which have more particular reference to thepreacher individually. 

It is no unimportant consideration to a minister of the gospel, thatthis is a talent held in high estimation among men, and that it givesadditional influence to him who possesses it. It is thought to arguecapacity and greatness of mind. Fluency of language passes with many, and those not always the vulgar, for affluence of thought; and never tobe at a loss for something to say, is supposed to indicate inexhaustibleknowledge. It cannot have escaped the observation of any one accustomedto notice the judgments which are passed upon men, how much reputationand consequent influence are acquired by the power of speaking readilyand boldly, without any other considerable talent, and with veryindifferent acquisitions; and how a man of real talents, learning, andworth, has frequently sunk below his proper level, from a mereawkwardness and embarrassment in speaking without preparation. So thatit is not simply superstition which leads so many to refuse the name ofpreaching to any but extemporaneous harangues; it is in part owing tothe natural propensity there is to admire, as something wonderful andextraordinary, this facility of speech. It is undoubtedly a veryerroneous standard of judgment. But a minister of the gospel, whosesuccess in his important calling depends so much on his personalinfluence, and the estimation in which his gifts are held, can hardly bejustified in slighting the cultivation of a talent, which may soinnocently add to his means of influence. 

It must be remembered also, that occasions will sometimes occur, whenthe want of this power may expose him to mortification, and deprive himof an opportunity of usefulness. For such emergencies one would chooseto be prepared. It may be of consequence that he should express hisopinion in an ecclesiastical council, and give reasons for the adoptionor rejection of important measures. Possibly he may be only required tostate facts, which have come to his knowledge. It is very desirable tobe able to do this readily, fluently, without embarrassment to himself, and pleasantly to those who hear; and in order to this, a habit ofspeaking is necessary. In the course of his ministrations also amongsthis own people, occasions will arise when an exhortation or addresswould be seasonable and useful, but when there is no time for writtenpreparation. If then he have cultivated the art of extemporaneousspeaking, and attained to any degree of facility and confidence in it, he may avail himself of the opportunity to do good, which he mustotherwise have passed by unimproved. Funerals and baptisms affordsuitable occasions of making good religious impressions. A suddenprovidence, also, on the very day of the sabbath may suggest mostvaluable topics of reflection and exhortation, lost to him who isconfined to what he may have previously written, but choice treasure tohim who can venture to speak without writing. If it were only to availhimself of a few opportunities like these in the course of his life, orto save himself but once the mortification of being silent when he oughtto speak, is expected to speak, and would do good by speaking, it wouldbe well worth all the time and pains it might cost to acquire it. 

It is a further advantage, not to be forgotten here, that the excitementof speaking in public strikes out new views of a subject, newillustrations, and unthought of figures and arguments, which perhapsnever would have presented themselves to the mind in retirement. "Thewarmth which animates him, " says Fenelon, "gives birth to expressionsand figures, which he never could have prepared in his study. " He whofeels himself safe in flying off from the path he has prescribed tohimself, without any fear lest he should fail to find his way back, willreadily seize upon these, and be astonished at the new light whichbreaks in upon him as he goes on, and flashes all around him. This isaccording to the experience of all extemporaneous speakers. "The degreein which, " says Thomas Scott, [5] who practised this method constantly, "after the most careful preparation for the pulpit, new thoughts, newarguments, animated addresses, often flow into my mind, while speakingto a congregation, even on very common subjects, makes me feel as if Iwas quite another man than when poring over them in my study. There willbe inaccuracies; but generally the most striking things in my sermonswere unpremeditated. "

 [5] Life, p. 268. 

Then again, the presence of the audience gives a greater seeming realityto the work; it is less like doing a task, and more like speaking tomen, than when one sits coolly writing at his table. Consequently thereis likely to be greater plainness and directness in his exhortations, more closeness in his appeals, more of the earnestness of genuinefeeling in his expostulations. He ventures, in the warmth of the moment, to urge considerations, which perhaps in the study seemed too familiar, and to employ modes of address, which are allowable in personalcommunion with a friend, but which one hesitates to commit to writing, lest he should infringe the dignity of deliberate composition. Thisforgetfulness of self, this unconstrained following the impulse of theaffections, while he is hurried on by the presence and attention ofthose whom he hopes to benefit, creates a sympathy between him and hishearers, a direct passage from heart to heart, a mutual understanding ofeach other, which does more to effect the true object of religiousdiscourse, than any thing else can do. The preacher will, in this way, have the boldness to say many things which ought to be said, but aboutwhich, in his study, he would feel reluctant and timid. And grantingthat he might be led to say some things improperly, yet if his mind bewell disciplined, and well governed, and his discretion habitual, hewill do it exceedingly seldom; while no one, who estimates the object ofpreaching as highly as he should, will think an occasional false stepany objection against that mode which ensures upon the whole thegreatest boldness and earnestness. He will think it a less fault thanthe tameness and abstractness, which are the besetting sins ofdeliberate composition. At any rate, what method is secure fromoccasional false steps?

Another consideration which recommends this method to the attention ofpreachers, though at the same time it indicates one of its difficulties, is this; that all men, from various causes, constitutional oraccidental, are subject to great inequality in the operations of theirminds--sometimes laboring with felicity and sometimes failing. Perhapsthis fact is in no men so observable as in preachers, because no othersare so much compelled to labor, and exhibit their labors, at allseasons, favorable and unfavorable. There is a certain quantity of theseverest mental toil to be performed every week; and as the mind cannotbe always in the same frame, they are constantly presenting proofs ofthe variation of their powers. Now an extemporaneous speaker is ofcourse exposed to all this inequality of spirits, and must expect to besometimes mortified by ill success. When the moment of speaking arrives, his mind may be slow and dull, his thoughts sluggish and impeded; he maybe exhausted by labor, or suffering from temporary indisposition. Hestrives in vain to rally his powers, and forces his way, with thoroughdiscomfort and chagrin, to the end of an unprofitable talk. But then howmany men _write_ under the same embarrassments, and are equallydissatisfied; with the additional mortification of having spent a longertime, and of being unable to give their poor preparation the interest ofa forcible manner, which the very distress of an extemporaneous effortwould have imparted. 

But on the other hand, when his mind is bright and clear, and his animalspirits lively, he will speak much better after merely a suitablepremeditation, than he can possibly write. There will be more point andvigor and animation, than he could ever throw into writing. "Every man, "says Bishop Burnet, "may thus rise far above what he could ever haveattained in any other way. " We see proof of this in conversation. Whenengaged in unrestrained and animated conversation with familiar friends, who is not conscious of having struck out brighter thoughts and happiersayings, than he ever put upon paper in the deliberate composition ofthe closet? It is a common remark concerning many men, that they praymuch better than they preach. The reason is, that their sermons are madeleisurely and sluggishly, without excitement; but in their publicdevotions they are strongly engaged, and the mind acts with moreconcentration and vivacity. The same thing has been observed in the artof music. "There have been organists, whose abilities in unstudiedeffusions on their instruments have almost amounted to inspiration, suchas Sebastian Bach, Handel, Marchand, Couperin, Kelway, Stanley, Worgan, and Keeble; several of whom played better music extempore, than theycould write with meditation. "[6]

 [6] Rees' Cyclopædia. 

It is upon no different principle that we explain, what all scholarshave experienced, that they write best when they write rapidly, from afull and excited mind. One of Pope's precepts is, "to write with furyand correct with phlegm. " The author of Waverley tells us, "that theworks and passages in which he has succeeded, have uniformly beenwritten with the greatest rapidity. " Fenelon's Telemachus is said tohave been composed in this way, and sent to the press with one singleerasure in the manuscript. The celebrated Rockingham Memorial at thecommencement of the late war, is said to have been the hasty compositionof a single evening. And it will be found true, I believe, of many ofthe best sermon writers, that they revolve the subject till their mindsare filled and warmed, and then put their discourse upon paper at asingle sitting. Now what is all this but _extemporaneous writing_? andwhat does it require but a mind equally collected and at ease, equallydisciplined by practice, and interested in the subject, to ensure equalsuccess in _extemporaneous speaking_? Nay, we might anticipateoccasional superior success; since the thoughts sometimes flow, when atthe highest and most passionate excitement, too rapidly and profuselyfor any thing slower than the tongue to afford them vent. 

There is one more consideration in favor of the habit I recommend, whichI think cannot fail to have weight with all who are solicitous to makeprogress in theological knowledge; namely, that it redeems time forstudy. The labor of preparing and committing to paper a sermon or twoevery week, is one which necessarily occupies the principal part of aminister's time and thoughts, and withdraws him from the investigationof many subjects, which, if his mind were more at leisure, it would behis duty and pleasure to pursue. He who _writes_ sermons, is ready toconsider this as the chief object, or perhaps the sole business of hislife. When not actually engaged in writing, yet the necessity of doingit presses upon his mind, and so binds him as to make him feel as if hewere wrong in being employed on any thing else. I speak of the tendency, which certainly is to prevent a man from pursuing, very extensively, anyprofitable study. But if he have acquired that ready command of thoughtand language, which will enable him to speak without writtenpreparation, the time and toil of writing are saved, to be devoted to adifferent mode of study. He may prepare his discourses at intervals ofleisure, while walking or riding; and having once arranged the outlinesof the subject, and ascertained its principle bearings and applications, the work of preparation is over. The language remains to be suggested atthe moment. 

I do not mean by this, that preparation for the pulpit should ever bemade slightly, or esteemed an object of small importance. It doubtlessdemands, and should receive the best of a man's talents and labors. WhatI contend for is, that a habit of mind may be acquired, which shallenable one to make a better and more thorough preparation at lessexpense of labor and time. He may acquire, by discipline, that ease andpromptitude of looking into subjects and bringing out their prominentfeatures, which shall enable him at a glance, as it were, to seize thepoints on which he should enlarge. Some minds are so constituted as "tolook a subject into shape" much more readily than others. But the powerof doing it is in a great measure mechanical, and depends upon habit. All may acquire it to a certain extent. When the mind works with mostconcentration, it works at once most quickly and most surely. Now theact of extempore speaking favors this concentration of the powers, morethan the slower process of leisurely writing--perhaps more than anyother operation; consequently, it increases, with practice, the facilityof dissecting subjects, and of arranging materials for preaching. Inother words, the completeness with which a subject is viewed and itsparts arranged, does not depend so much on the time spent upon it, as onthe vigor with which the attention is applied to it. That course ofstudy is the best, which most favors this vigor of attention; and thehabit of extemporaneous speaking is more than any thing favorable to it, from the necessity which it imposes of applying the mind with energy, and thinking promptly. 

The great danger in this case would be, that of substituting an easyflow of words for good sense and sober reflection, and becomingsatisfied with very superficial thoughts. But this danger is guardedagainst by the habit of study, and of writing for other purposes. If aman should neglect all mental exertion, except so far as would berequired in the meditation of a sermon, it would be ruinous. We witnessits disastrous effects in the empty wordiness of many extemporaneouspreachers. It is wrong however to argue against the practice itself, from their example; for all other modes would be equally condemned, ifjudged by the ill success of indolent and unfaithful men. The ministermust keep himself occupied, --reading, thinking, investigating; thushaving his mind always awake and active. This is a far betterpreparation than the bare writing of sermons, for it exercises thepowers more, and keeps them bright. The great master of Roman eloquencethought it essential to the true orator, that he should be familiar withall sciences, and have his mind filled with every variety of knowledge. He therefore, much as he studied his favorite art, yet occupied moretime in literature, philosophy, and politics, than in the composition ofhis speeches. His preparation was less particular than general. So ithas been with other eminent speakers. When Sir Samuel Romilly was infull practice in the High Court of Chancery, and at the same timeoverwhelmed with the pressure of public political concerns; his customwas to enter the court, to receive there the history of the cause he wasto plead, thus to acquaint himself with the circumstances for the firsttime, and forthwith proceed to argue it. His general preparation andlong practice enabled him to do this, without failing in justice to hiscause. I do not know that in this he was singular. The same sort ofpreparation would ensure success in the pulpit. He who is alwaysthinking, may expend upon each individual effort less time, because hecan think at once fast and well. But he who never thinks, except whenattempting to manufacture a sermon (and it is to be feared there aresuch men), must devote a great deal of time to this labor exclusively;and after all, he will not have that wide range of thought orcopiousness of illustration, which his office demands and which studyonly can give. 

In fact, what I have here insisted upon, is exemplified in the case ofthe extemporaneous _writers_, whom I have already named. I would onlycarry their practice a step further, and devote an hour to a discourseinstead of a day. Not to all discourses, for some ought to be writtenfor the sake of writing, and some demand a sort of investigation, towhich the use of the pen is essential. But then a very large proportionof the topics on which a minister should preach, have been subjects ofhis attention a thousand times. He is thoroughly familiar with them; andan hour to arrange his ideas and collect illustrations, is abundantlysufficient. The late Thomas Scott is said for years to have prepared hisdiscourses entirely by meditation on the Sunday, and thus gained leisurefor his extensive studies, and great and various labors. This is anextreme on which few have a right to venture, and which should berecommended to none. It shows, however, the power of habit, and theability of a mind to act promptly and effectually, which is kept uponthe alert by constant occupation. He who is always engaged in thinkingand studying, will always have thoughts enough for a sermon, and goodones too, which will come at an hour's warning. 

The objections which may be made to the practice I have sought torecommend, I must leave to be considered in another place. I amdesirous, in concluding this chapter, to add the favorable testimony ofa writer, who expressly disapproves the practice in general, but whoallows its excellence when accompanied by that preparation which I wouldevery where imply. 

"You are accustomed, " says Dinouart, [7] "to the careful study andimitation of nature. You have used yourself to writing and speaking withcare on different subjects, and have well stored your memory by reading. You thus have provided resources for speaking, which are always at hand. The best authors and the best thoughts are familiar to you; you canreadily quote the scriptures, you express yourself easily andgracefully, you have a sound and correct judgment on which you candepend, method and precision in the arrangement of proofs; you canreadily connect each part by natural transitions, and are able to sayall that belongs, and precisely what belongs to the subject. You maythen take only a day, or only an hour, to reflect on your subject, toarrange your topics, to consult your memory, to choose and to prepareyour illustrations, --and then, appear in public. I am perfectly willingthat you should. The common expressions which go to make up the body ofthe discourse, will present themselves spontaneously. Your periods, perhaps, will be less harmonious, your transitions less ingenious, anill placed word will sometimes escape you; but all this is pardonable. The animation of your delivery will compensate for these blemishes, andyou will be master of your own feelings, and those of your hearers. There will, perhaps, be apparent throughout a certain disorder, but itwill not prevent your pleasing and affecting me; your action as well asyour words will appear to me the more natural. "

 [7] Sur l'Eloquence du Corps, ou L'Action du Prédicateur. 

CHAPTER II. 

Against what has been advanced in the preceding pages, many objectionswill be urged, and the evils of the practice I recommend be declaredmore than sufficient to counterbalance its advantages. Of these it isnecessary that I should now take notice, and obviate them as well as Imay. 

It should be first of all remarked, that the force of the objectionscommonly made, lies against the exclusive use of extempore preaching, and not against its partial and occasional use. It is of consequencethat this should be considered. There can be no doubt, that he wouldpreach very wretchedly, who should always be haranguing without thecorrective discipline of writing. The habit of writing is essential. Many of the objections which are currently made to this mode of address, fall to the ground when this statement is made. 

Other objections have been founded on the idea, that by _extemporaneous_is meant, _unpremeditated_. Whereas there is a plain and importantdistinction between them, the latter word being applied to the thoughts, and the former to the language only. To preach without premeditation, isaltogether unjustifiable; although there is no doubt that a man ofhabitual readiness of mind, may express himself to the greatestadvantage on a subject with which he is familiar, after very littlemeditation. 

Many writers on the art of preaching, as well as on eloquence ingeneral, have given a decided judgment unfavorable to extemporespeaking. There can be no fairer way of answering their objections, thanby examining what they have advanced, and opposing their authority bythat of equal names on the other side. 

Gerard, in his Treatise on the Pastoral Charge, has the followingpassage on this subject. 

"He will run into trite, common-place topics; his compositions will beloose and unconnected; his language often coarse and confused; anddiffidence, or care to recollect his subject, will destroy themanagement of his voice. " At the same time, however, he admits that "itis very proper that a man should be able to preach in this way, when itis necessary;--but no man ought always to preach in this way. " To whichdecision I have certainly nothing to object. 

Mason, in his Student and Pastor, says to the same effect, that "theinaccuracy of diction, the inelegance, poverty, and lowness ofexpression, which is commonly observed in extempore discourses, will notfail to offend every hearer of good taste. "

Dinouart, [8] who is an advocate for recitation from memory, says that"experience decides against extemporaneous preaching, though there areexceptions; but these are very few; and we must not be led astray by thesuccess of a few first rate orators. "

 [8] Sur l'Eloquence du Corps, ou l'Action du Prédicateur. 

Hume, in his Essay upon Eloquence, expresses an opinion that the moderndeficiency in this art is to be attributed to "that extreme affectationof extempore speaking, which has led to extreme carelessness of method. "

The writer of an article, on the Greek Orators, in the EdinburghReview, [9] observes, that "among the sources of the corruption of moderneloquence, may clearly be distinguished as the most fruitful, the habitof extempore speaking, acquired rapidly by persons who frequent popularassemblies, and, beginning at the wrong end, attempt to speak beforethey have studied the art of oratory, or even duly stored their mindswith the treasures of thought and language, which can only be drawn fromassiduous intercourse with the ancient and modern classics. "

 [9] No. LXXI. P. 82. 

These are the prominent objections which have been made to the practicein question. Without denying that they have weight, I think it may bemade to appear that they have not the unquestionable preponderance, which is assumed for them. They will be found, on examination, to be theobjections of a cultivated taste, and to be drawn from the examples ofundisciplined men, who ought to be left entirely out of the question. 

1. The objection most urged is that which relates to style. It is said, the expression will be poor, inelegant, inaccurate, and offensive tohearers of taste. 

To those who urge this it may be replied, that the reason why style isan important consideration in the pulpit, is, not that the taste of thehearers may be gratified, for but a small part of any congregation iscapable of taking cognizance of this matter;--but solely for the purposeof presenting the speaker's thoughts, reasonings, and expostulationsdistinctly and forcibly to the minds of his hearers. If this beeffected, it is all which can reasonably be demanded. And I ask if it benot notorious, that an earnest and appropriate elocution will give thiseffect to a poor style, and that poor speaking will take it away fromthe most exact and emphatic style? Is it not also notorious that thepeculiar earnestness of spontaneous speech, is, above all others, suitedto arrest the attention, and engage the feelings of an audience? andthat the mere reading of a piece of fine composition, under the notionthat careful thought and finished diction are the only things needful, leaves the majority uninterested in the discourse, and free to think ofany thing they please? "It is a poor compliment, " says Blair, "that oneis an accurate reasoner, if he be not a persuasive speaker also. " It isa small matter that the style is poor, so long as it answers the greatpurpose of instructing and affecting men. So that, as I have more fullyshown in a former place, the objection lies on an erroneous foundation. 

Besides, if it were not so, it will be found quite as strong against the_writing_ of sermons. For how large a proportion of sermon writers havethese very same faults of style! what a great want of force, neatness, compactness, is there in the composition of most preachers! whatweakness, inelegance, and inconclusiveness; and how small improvement dothey make, even after the practice of years! How happens this? It isbecause they do not make this an object of attention and study; and somemight be unable to attain it if they did. But that watchfulness and carewhich secure a correct and neat style in writing, would also secure itin speaking. It does not naturally belong to the one, more than to theother, and may be as certainly attained in each by the proper pains. Indeed so far as my observation has extended, I am not certain thatthere is not as large a proportion of extempore speakers, whose dictionis exact and unexceptionable, as of writers--always taking into viewtheir education, which equally affects the one and the other. And it isa consideration of great weight, that the faults in question are farless offensive in speakers than in writers. 

It is apparent that objectors of this sort are guilty of a doublemistake; first, in laying too great stress upon mere defects of style, and then in taking for granted, that these are unavoidable. They mightas well insist that defects of written style are unavoidable. Whereasthey are the consequence of the negligent mode in which the art has beenstudied, and its having been given up, for the most part, to ignorantand fanatical pretenders. Let it be diligently cultivated by educatedmen, and we shall find no more cause to expel it from the pulpit thanfrom the forum or the parliament. "Poverty, inelegance, and poorness ofdiction, " will be no longer so "generally observed, " and even hearers oftaste will cease to be offended. 

2. A want of order, a rambling, unconnected, desultory manner, iscommonly objected; as Hume styles it, "extreme carelessness of method;"and this is so often observed, as to be justly an object of dread. Butthis is occasioned by that indolence and want of discipline to which wehave just alluded. It is not a necessary evil. If a man have neverstudied the art of speaking, nor passed through a course of preparatorydiscipline; if he have so rash and unjustifiable a confidence inhimself, that he will undertake to speak, without having considered whathe shall say, what object he shall aim at, or by what steps he shallattain it; the inevitable consequence will be confusion, inconclusiveness, and wandering. Who recommends such a course? But hewho has first trained himself to the work, and whenever he would speak, has surveyed his ground, and become familiar with the points to be dweltupon, and the course of reasoning and track of thought to be followed;will go on from one step to another, in an easy and natural order, andgive no occasion to the complaint of confusion or disarrangement. 

"Some preachers, " says Dinouart, "have the folly to think that they canmake sermons impromptu. And what a piece of work they make! They boltout every thing which comes into their head. They take for granted, whatought to be proved, or perhaps they state half the argument, and forgetthe rest. Their appearance corresponds to the state of their mind, whichis occupied in hunting after some way of finishing the sentence theyhave begun. They repeat themselves; they wander off in digression. Theystand stiff without moving; or if they are of a lively temperament, theyare full of the most turbulent action; their eyes and hands are flyingabout in every direction, and their words choke in their throats. Theyare like men swimming, who have got frightened, and throw about theirhands and feet at random, to save themselves from drowning. "

There is doubtless great truth in this humorous description. But what isthe legitimate inference? that extemporaneous speaking is altogetherridiculous and mischievous? or only that it is an art which requiresstudy and diligence, and which no man should presume to practice, untilhe has fitted himself for it?

3. In the same way I should dispose of the objection, that this habitleads to barrenness in preaching, and the everlasting repetition of thesame sentiments and topics. If a man make his facility of speech anexcuse for the neglect of all study, then doubtless this will be theresult. He who cannot resist his indolent propensities, had best avoidthis occasion of temptation. He must be able to command himself tothink, and industriously prepare himself by meditation, if he would besafe in this hazardous experiment. He who does this, and continues tolearn and reflect while he preaches, will be no more empty andmonotonous than if he carefully wrote every word. 

4. But this temptation to indolence in the preparation for the desk, isurged as in itself a decisive objection. A man finds, that after alittle practice, it is an exceedingly easy thing to fill up hishalf-hour with declamation which shall pass off very well, and hence hegrows negligent in previous meditation; and insensibly degenerates intoan empty exhorter, without choice of language, or variety of ideas. Thisis undoubtedly the great and alarming danger of this practice. This mustbe triumphed over, or it is ruinous. We see examples of it wherever welook among those whose preaching is exclusively extempore. In thesecases, the evil rises to its magnitude in consequence of their totalneglect of the pen. The habit of writing a certain proportion of thetime would, in some measure, counteract this dangerous tendency. 

But it is still insisted, that man's natural love of ease is not to betrusted; that he will not long continue the drudgery of writing in part;that when he has once gained confidence to speak without study, he willfind it so flattering to his indolence, that he will involuntarily givehimself up to it, and relinquish the pen altogether; that consequentlythere is no security, except in never beginning. 

To this it may be replied, that they who have not principle andself-government enough to keep them industrious, will not be kept so bybeing compelled to write sermons. I think we have abundant proof, that aman may write with as little pains and thinking, as he can speak. It byno means follows, that because it is on paper, it is therefore theresult of study. And if it be not, it will be greatly inferior, in pointof effect, to an unpremeditated declamation; for in the latter case, there will probably be at least a temporary excitement of feeling, andconsequent vivacity of manner, while in the former the indolence of thewriter will be made doubly intolerable by his heaviness in reading. 

It cannot be doubted, however, that if any one find his facility ofextemporaneous invention, likely to prove destructive to his habits ofdiligent and careful application; it were advisable that he refrain fromthe practice. It could not be worth while for him to lose his habits ofstudy and thinking for the sake of an ability to speak, which wouldavail him but little, after his ability to think has been weakened ordestroyed. 

As for those whose indolence habitually prevails over principle, and whomake no preparation for duty excepting the mechanical one of coveringover a certain number of pages, --they have no concern in the ministry, and should be driven to seek some other employment, where theirmechanical labor may provide them a livelihood, without injuring theirown souls, or those of other men. 

If the objection in question be applied to conscientious men, whosehearts are in their profession, and who have a sincere desire to dogood, it certainly has very little weight. The minds of such men arekept active with reflection, and stored with knowledge, and warm withreligious feeling. They are therefore always ready to speak to thepurpose, as well as write to the purpose; and their habitual sense ofthe importance of their office, and their anxiety to fulfil it in thebest manner, will forbid that indolence which is so disastrous. Theobjection implies, that the consequence pointed out is one which cannotbe avoided. Experience teaches us the contrary. It is the tendency--buta tendency which may be, for it has been, counteracted. Many havepreached in this mode for years, and yet have never relaxed theirdiligence in study, nor declined in the variety, vigor, and interest oftheir discourses;--sometimes dull, undoubtedly; but this may be saidwith equal truth of the most faithful and laborious writers. 

5. Many suppose that there is a certain natural talent, essential tosuccess in extempore speaking, no less than in poetry; and that it isabsurd to recommend the art to those who have not this peculiar talent, and vain for them to attempt its practice. 

In regard to that ready flow of words, which seems to be the naturalgift of some men, it is of little consequence whether it be really such, or be owing to the education and habits of early life, and vainself-confidence. It is certain that the want of habit, and diffidenceare great hindrances to fluency of speech; and it is equally certain, that this natural fluency is a very questionable advantage to him whowould be an impressive speaker. It is quite observable that those who atfirst talk easiest, do not always talk best. Their very facility is asnare to them. It serves to keep them content; they make no effort toimprove, and are likely to fall into slovenly habits of elocution. Sothat this unacquired fluency is so far from essential, that it is noteven a benefit, and it may be an injury. It keeps from final eminence bythe very greatness of its early promise. On the other hand, he whopossesses originally no remarkable command of language, and whom anunfortunate bashfulness prevents from well using what he has; is obligedto subject himself to severe discipline, to submit to rules and tasks, to go through a tedious process of training, to acquire by much laborthe needful sway over his thoughts and words, so that they shall come athis bidding, and not be driven away by his own diffidence, or thepresence of other men. To do all this, is a long and dishearteninglabor. He is exposed to frequent mortifications, and must endure manygrievous failures, before he attain that confidence which isindispensable to success. But then in this discipline, his powers, mental and moral, are strained up to the highest intenseness of action;after persevering practice, they become habitually subject to hiscontrol, and work with a precision, exactness, and energy, which cannever be the possession of him, who has depended on his native, undisciplined gift. Of the truth of this, examples are by no meanswanting, and I could name, if it were proper, more than one strikinginstance within my own observation. It was probably this to which Newtonreferred, when he said, that he never spoke well till he felt that hecould not speak at all. Let no one therefore think it an obstacle in hisway that he has no readiness of words. If he have good sense and nodeficiency of talent, and is willing to labor for this as all greatacquisitions must be labored for, he needs not fear but that in time hewill attain it. 

We must be careful, however, not to mistake the object to be attained. It is not a high rank in oratory, consummate eloquence. If it were, thenindeed a young man might pause till he had ascertained whether hepossessed all those extraordinary endowments of intellect, imagination, sensibility, countenance, voice, and person, which belong to few men ina century, and without which the great orator does not exist. He is oneof those splendid formations of nature, which she exhibits but rarely;and it is not necessary to the object of his pursuit that the ministerbe such. The aim and purpose of his office are less ambitious, to impartinstruction and do good; and it is by no means certain that the greatesteloquence is best adapted to these purposes in the pulpit. But any man, with powers which fit him for the ministry at all, --unless there be afew extraordinary exceptions--is capable of learning to express himselfclearly, correctly, and with method; and this is precisely what iswanted, and no more than this. I do not say eloquently; for as it is notthought indispensable that every writer of sermons should be eloquent, it cannot be thought essential that every speaker should be so. But thesame powers which have enabled him to write, will, with sufficientdiscipline, enable him to speak; with every probability that when hecomes to speak with the same ease and collectedness, he will do it witha nearer approach to eloquence. Without such discipline he has no rightto hope for success; let him not say that success is impossible, untilhe has submitted to it. 

I apprehend that these remarks will be found not only correct in theory, but agreeable to experience. With the exceeding little systematiccultivation of the art which there is amongst us, and no actualinstruction, we find that a great majority of the lawyers in our courts, and not a small portion of the members of our legislatures, are able toargue and debate. In some of the most popular and quite numerousreligious sects, we find preachers enough, who are able to communicatetheir thoughts and harangue their congregations, and exert very powerfuland permanent influence over large bodies of the people. Some of theseare men of as small natural talents and as limited education, as anythat enter the sacred office. It should seem therefore that no one needsto despair. 

In the ancient republics of Greece and Rome, this accomplishment was anecessary branch of a finished education. A much smaller proportion ofthe citizens were educated than amongst us; but of these a much largernumber became orators. No man could hope for distinction or influence, and yet slight this art. [10] The commanders of their armies were oratorsas well as soldiers, and ruled as well by their rhetorical as by theirmilitary skill. There was no trusting with them as with us, to a naturalfacility, or the acquisition of an accidental fluency by actualpractice. But they served an apprenticeship to the art. They passedthrough a regular course of instruction in schools. They submitted tolong and laborious discipline. They exercised themselves frequently, both before equals and in the presence of teachers, who criticised, reproved, rebuked, excited emulation, and left nothing undone which artand perseverance could accomplish. The greatest orators of antiquity, sofar from being favored by natural tendencies, except indeed in theirhigh intellectual endowments, had to struggle against natural obstacles;and instead of growing up spontaneously to their unrivalled eminence, they forced themselves forward by the most discouraging artificialprocess. Demosthenes combated an impediment in speech and ungainlinessof gesture, which at first drove him from the forum in disgrace. Cicerofailed at first through weakness of lungs, and an excessive vehemence ofmanner, which wearied the hearers and defeated his own purpose. Thesedefects were conquered by study and discipline. Cicero exiled himselffrom home, and during his absence in various lands passed not a daywithout a rhetorical exercise; seeking the masters who were most severein criticism, as the surest means of leading him to the perfection atwhich he aimed. Such too was the education of their other great men. They were all, according to their ability and station, orators; orators, not by nature or accident, but by education; formed in a strict processof rhetorical training; admired and followed even while Demosthenes andCicero were living, and unknown now, only because it is not possiblethat any but the first should survive the ordeal of ages. 

 [10] It is often said that extemporaneous speaking is the distinction of modern eloquence. But the whole language of Cicero's rhetorical works, as well as particular terms in common use, and anecdotes recorded of different speakers, prove the contrary; not to mention Quinctilian's express instructions on the subject. Hume, also, tells us from Suidas, that the writing of speeches was unknown until the time of Pericles. 

The inference to be drawn from these observations, is, that if so manyof those who received an accomplished education became accomplishedorators, because to become so was one purpose of their study; then it isin the power of a much larger proportion amongst us, to form themselvesinto creditable and accurate speakers. The inference should not bedenied until proved false by experiment. Let this art be made an objectof attention, and young men train themselves to it faithfully and long;and if any of competent talents and tolerable science be found at lastincapable of expressing themselves in continued and connected discourse, so as to answer the ends of the christian ministry; then, and not tillthen, let it be said that a peculiar talent or natural aptitude isrequisite, the want of which must render effort vain; then, and not tillthen, let us acquiesce in this indolent and timorous notion, whichcontradicts the whole testimony of antiquity, and all the experience ofthe world. Doubtless, after the most that can be done, there will befound the greatest variety of attainment; "men will differ, " as Burnetremarks, "quite as much as in their written compositions;" and some willdo but poorly what others will do excellently. But this is likewise trueof every other art in which men engage, and not least so of writingsermons; concerning which no one will say, that as poor are not written, as it would be possible for any one to speak. In truth, men of smalltalents and great sluggishness, of a feeble sense of duty and no zeal, will of course make poor sermons, by whatever process they may do it, let them write or let them speak. It is doubtful concerning some whetherthey would even steal good ones. 

The survey we have now taken, renders it evident, that the evils, whichare principally objected against as attending this mode of preaching, are not necessary evils, but are owing to insufficient study andpreparation before the practice is commenced, and indolence afterward. This is implied in the very expressions of the objectors themselves, whoattribute the evil to "beginning at the wrong end, attempting to speakbefore studying the art of oratory, or even storing the mind withtreasures of thought and language. " It is, also, implied in thislanguage, that study and preparation are capable of removing theobjections. I do not therefore advocate the art, without insisting onthe necessity of severe discipline and training. No man should beencouraged or permitted to adopt it, who will not take the necessarypains, and proceed with the necessary perseverance. 

This should be the more earnestly insisted upon, because it is from ourloose and lazy notions on the subject, that eloquence in everydepartment is suffering so much, and that the pulpit especially hasbecome so powerless, where the most important things that receiveutterance upon earth, are read like schoolboys' tasks, without even thepoor pains to lay emphasis on the right words, and to pause in the rightplaces. And this, because we fancy that, if nature have not designed usfor orators, it is vain to make effort, and if she have, we shall besuch without effort. True, that the noble gifts of mind are from nature;but not language, or knowledge, or accent, or tone, or gesture; theseare to be learned, and it is with these that the speaker is concerned. These are all matters of acquisition, and of difficult acquisition;possible to be attained, and well worth the exertion that must be made. 

The history of the world is full of testimony to prove how much dependsupon industry; not an eminent orator has lived, but is an example of it. Yet in contradiction to all this, the almost universal feeling appearsto be, that industry can effect nothing, that eminence is the result ofaccident, and that every one must be content to remain just what he mayhappen to be. Thus multitudes, who come forward as teachers and guides, suffer themselves to be satisfied with the most indifferent attainments, and a miserable mediocrity, without so much as inquiring how they mightrise higher, much less making any attempt to rise. For any other artthey would have served an apprenticeship, and would be ashamed topractise it in public before they had learned it. If any one would sing, he attends a master, and is drilled in the very elementary principles;and only after the most laborious process dares to exercise his voice inpublic. This he does, though he has scarce any thing to learn but themechanical execution of what lies in sensible forms before his eye. Butthe extempore speaker, who is to invent as well as to utter, to carry onan operation of the mind as well as to produce sound, enters upon thework without preparatory discipline, and then wonders that he fails! Ifhe were learning to play on the flute for public exhibition, what hoursand days would he spend in giving facility to his fingers, and attainingthe power of the sweetest and most impressive execution. If he weredevoting himself to the organ, what months and years would he labor, that he might know its compass, and be master of its keys, and be ableto draw out, at will, all its various combinations of harmonious sound, and its full richness and delicacy of expression. And yet he will fancythat the grandest, the most various, the most expressive of allinstruments, which the infinite Creator has fashioned by the union of anintellectual soul with the powers of speech, may be played upon withoutstudy or practice; he comes to it, a mere uninstructed tyro, and thinksto manage all its stops, and command the whole compass of its varied andcomprehensive power! He finds himself a bungler in the attempt, ismortified at his failure, and settles it in his mind forever that theattempt is vain. 

Success in every art, whatever may be the natural talent, is always thereward of industry and pains. But the instances are many of men of thefinest natural genius, whose beginning has promised much, but who havedegenerated wretchedly as they advanced, because they trusted to theirgifts, and made no effort to improve. That there have never been othermen of equal endowments with Demosthenes and Cicero, none would ventureto suppose; but who have so devoted themselves to their art, or becomeequal in excellence? If those great men had been content, like others, to continue as they began, and had never made their persevering effortsfor improvement, what would their countries have benefited from theirgenius, or the world have known of their fame? They would have been lostin the undistinguished crowd, that sunk to oblivion around them. Of howmany more will the same remark prove true! What encouragement is thusgiven to the industrious! With such encouragement, how inexcusable isthe negligence which suffers the most interesting and important truths, to seem heavy and dull, and fall ineffectual to the ground, through meresluggishness in their delivery! How unworthy of one who performs thehigh function of a religious instructer, upon whom depend, in a greatmeasure, the religious knowledge and devotional sentiment and finalcharacter of many fellow beings, --to imagine that he can worthilydischarge this great concern by occasionally talking for an hour, heknows not how, and in a manner which he has taken no pains to rendercorrect, impressive, or attractive; and which, simply through want ofthat command over himself which study would give, is immethodical, verbose, inaccurate, feeble, trifling. It has been said of the goodpreacher, that "truths divine come mended from his tongue. " Alas, theycome ruined and worthless from such a man as this. They lose that holyenergy by which they are to convert the soul and purify man for heaven, and sink, in interest and efficacy, below the level of those principleswhich govern the ordinary affairs of this lower world. 

CHAPTER III. 

The observations contained in the preceding chapter make it sufficientlyevident, that the art of extemporaneous speaking, however advantageousto the christian minister, and however possible to be acquired, is yetattended with embarrassments and difficulties, which are to be removedonly by long and arduous labor. It is not enough, however, to insistupon the necessity of this discipline. We must know in what it consists, and how it is to be conducted. In completing, therefore, the plan I haveproposed to myself, I am now to give a few hints respecting the mode inwhich the study is to be carried on, and obstacles to be surmounted. These hints, gathered partly from experience and partly from observationand books, will be necessarily incomplete; but not, it is hoped, altogether useless to those who are asking some direction. 

1. The first thing to be observed is, that the student who would acquirefacility in this art, should bear it constantly in mind, and have regardto it in all his studies, and in his whole mode of study. The reason isvery obvious. He that would become eminent in any pursuit, must make itthe primary and almost exclusive object of his attention. It must neverbe long absent from his thoughts, and he must be contriving how topromote it, in every thing he undertakes. It is thus that the miseraccumulates, by making the most trifling occurrences the occasions ofgain; and thus the ambitious man is on the alert to forward his purposesof advancement by little events which another would pass unobserved. Sotoo he, the business of whose life is preaching, should be on the watchto render every thing subservient to this end. The inquiry should alwaysbe, how he can turn the knowledge he is acquiring, the subject he isstudying, this mode of reasoning, this event, this conversation, and theconduct of this or that man, to aid the purposes of religiousinstruction. He may find an example in the manner in which Pope pursuedhis favorite study. "From his attention to poetry, " says Johnson, "hewas never diverted. If conversation offered any thing that could beimproved, he committed it to paper; if a thought, or perhaps anexpression more happy than was common, rose to his mind, he was carefulto write it; an independent distich was preserved for an opportunity ofinsertion, and some little fragments have been found containing lines, or parts of lines, to be wrought upon at some other time. " By a likehabitual and vigilant attention, the preacher will find scarce any thingbut may be made to minister to his great design, by either giving riseto some new train of thought, or suggesting an argument, or placing sometruth in a new light, or furnishing some useful illustration. Thus noneof his reading will be lost; every poem and play, every treatise onscience, and speculation in philosophy, and even every ephemeral talemay be made to give hints toward the better management of sermons andthe more effectual proposing and communicating of truth. 

He who proposes to himself the art of extemporaneous speaking shouldthus have constant regard to this particular object, and make everything co-operate to form those habits of mind which are essential to it. This may be done not only without any hindrance to the progress of hisother studies, but even so as to promote them. The most importantrequisites are rapid thinking, and ready command of language. By rapidthinking I mean, what has already been spoken of, the power of seizingat once upon the most prominent points of the subject to be discussed, and tracing out, in their proper order, the subordinate thoughts whichconnect them together. This power depends very much upon habit; a habitmore easily acquired by some minds than by others, and by some withgreat difficulty. But there are few who, should they have a view to theformation of such a habit in all their studies, might not attain it in adegree quite adequate to their purpose. This is much more indisputablytrue in regard to fluency of language. 

Let it, therefore, be a part of his daily care to analyze the subjectswhich come before him, and to frame sketches of sermons. This will aidhim to acquire a facility in laying open, dividing, and arrangingtopics, and preparing those outlines which he is to take with him intothe pulpit. Let him also investigate carefully the method of everyauthor he reads, marking the divisions of his arrangement, and theconnexion and train of his reasoning. Butler's preface to his Sermonswill afford him some fine hints on this way of study. Let this be hishabitual mode of reading, so that he shall as much do this, as receivethe meaning of separate sentences, and shall be always able to give abetter account of the progress of the argument and the relation of everypart to the others and to the whole, than of merely individual passagesand separate illustrations. This will infallibly beget a readiness infinding the divisions and boundaries of a subject, which is oneimportant requisite to an easy and successful speaker. 

In a similar manner, let him always bear in mind the value of a fluentand correct use of language. Let him not be negligent of this in hisconversation; but be careful ever to select the best words, to avoid aslovenly style and drawling utterance, and to aim at neatness, force, and brevity. This may be done without formality, or stiffness, orpedantic affectation; and when settled into a habit is invaluable. 

2. In addition to this general cultivation, there should be frequentexercise of the act of speaking. Practice is essential to perfection inany art, and in none more so than in this. No man reads well or writeswell, except by long practice; and he cannot expect without it to speakwell, an operation which is equivalent to the other two united. He mayindeed get along, as the phrase is; but not so well as he might do andshould do. He may not always be able even to get along. He may be assadly discomfited as a friend of mine, who said that he had made theattempt, and was convinced that for him to speak extempore wasimpossible; he had risen from his study table, and tried to make aspeech, proving that virtue is better than vice; but was obliged to sitdown without completing it. How could one hope to do better in a firstattempt, if he had not considered beforehand what he should say? It wereas rational to think he could play on the organ without having learned, or translate from a language he had never studied. 

It would not be too much to require of the student, that he shouldexercise himself every day, once at least, if not oftener; and this, ona variety of subjects, and in various ways, that he may attain afacility in every mode. It would be a pleasant interchange of employmentto rise from the subject which occupies his thoughts, or from the bookhe is reading, and repeat to himself the substance of what he has justperused, with such additions and variations, or criticisms, as maysuggest themselves at the moment. There could hardly be a more usefulexercise, even if there were no reference to this particular end. Howmany excellent chapters of valuable authors, how many fine views ofimportant subjects, would be thus impressed upon his mind, and what richtreasures of thought and language would be thus laid up in store. Andaccording as he should be engaged in a work of reasoning, ordescription, or exhortation, or narrative, he would be attaining thepower of expressing himself readily in each of these various styles. Bypursuing this course for two or three years, "a man may render himselfsuch a master in this matter, " says Burnet, "that he can never besurprised;" and he adds, that he never knew a man faithfully to pursuethe plan of study he proposed, without being successful at last. 

3. When by such a course of study and discipline he has attained atolerable fluency of thoughts and words, and a moderate confidence inhis own powers; there are several things to be observed in firstexercising the gift in public, in order to ensure comfort and success. 

It is recommended by Bishop Burnet and others, that the first attemptsbe made by short excursions from written discourses; like the young birdthat tries its wings by short flights, till it gradually acquiresstrength and courage to sustain itself longer in the air. This advice isundoubtedly judicious. For he may safely trust himself in a fewsentences, who would be confounded in the attempt to frame a wholediscourse. For this purpose blanks may be left in writing, where thesentiment is familiar, or only a short illustration is to be introduced. As success in these smaller attempts gives him confidence, he mayproceed to larger; till at length, when his mind is bright and hisfeelings engaged, he may quit his manuscript altogether, and present thesubstance of what he had written, with greater fervor and effect, thanif he had confined himself to his paper. It was once observed to me byan interesting preacher of the Baptist denomination, that he had foundfrom experience this to be the most advisable and perfect mode; since itcombined the advantages of written and extemporaneous composition. Bypreparing sermons in this way, he said, he had a shelter and security ifhis mind should be dull at the time of delivery; and if it were active, he was able to leave what he had written, and obey the ardor of hisfeelings, and go forth on the impulse of the moment, wherever his spiritmight lead him. A similar remark I heard made by a distinguished scholarof the Methodist connexion, who urged, what is universally asserted bythose who have tried this method with any success, that what has beenwritten is found to be tame and spiritless, in comparison with theanimated glow of that which springs from the energy of the moment. 

There are some persons, however, who would be embarrassed by an effortto change the operation of the mind from reading to inventing. Suchpersons may find it best to make their beginning with a whole discourse. 

4. In this case, there will be a great advantage in selecting for firstefforts expository subjects. To say nothing of the importance andutility of this mode of preaching, which render it desirable that everyminister should devote a considerable proportion of his labors to it; itcontains great facilities and reliefs for the inexperienced speaker. Theclose study of a passage of scripture which is necessary to expoundingit, renders it familiar. The exposition is inseparably connected withthe text, and necessarily suggested by it. The inferences and practicalreflections are in like manner naturally and indissolubly associatedwith the passage. The train of remark is easily preserved, andembarrassment in a great measure guarded against, by the circumstancethat the order of discourse is spread out in the open Bible, upon whichthe eyes may rest and by which the thoughts may rally. 

5. A similar advantage is gained to the beginner, in discourses of adifferent character, by a very careful and minute division of thesubject. The division should not only be logical and clear, but intoparts as numerous as possible. The great advantage here is, that thepartitions being many, the speaker is compelled frequently to return tohis minutes. He is thus kept in the track, and prevented from wanderingfar in needless digressions--that besetting infirmity of unrestrainedextemporizers. He also escapes the mortifying consequences of amomentary confusion and cloudiness of mind, by having it in his power toleave an unsatisfactory train at once, before the state of his mind isperceived by the audience, and take up the next topic, where he mayrecover his self-possession, and proceed without impediment. This is nounimportant consideration. It relieves him from the horror of feelingobliged to go on, while conscious that he is saying nothing to thepurpose; and at the same time secures the very essential requisite ofright method. 

6. The next rule is, that the whole subject, with the order andconnexion of all its parts, and the entire train of thought, be madethoroughly familiar by previous meditation. The speaker must have thediscourse in his mind as one whole, whose various parts are distinctlyperceived as other wholes, connected with each other and contributing toa common end. There must be no uncertainty, when he rises to speak, asto what he is going to say; no mist or darkness over the land he isabout to travel; but conscious of his acquaintance with the ground, hemust step forward confidently, not doubting that he shall find thepasses of its mountains, and thread the intricacies of its forests, bythe paths which he has already trodden. It is an imperfect and partialpreparation in this respect, which so often renders the manner awkwardand embarrassed, and the discourse obscure and perplexed. [11] But whenthe preparation is faithful, the speaker feels at home; being under noanxiety respecting the ideas or the order of their succession, he hasthe more ready control of his person, his eye, and his hand, and themore fearlessly gives up his mind to its own action and casts himselfupon the current. Uneasiness and constraint are the inevitableattendants of unfaithful preparation, and they are fatal to success. Itis true, that no man can attain the power of self-possession so as tofeel at all times equally and entirely at ease. But he may guard againstthe sorest ills which attend its loss, by always making sure of a trainof thought, --being secure that he has ideas, and that they lie in suchorder as to be found and brought forward in some sort of apparel, evenwhen he has in some measure lost the mastery of himself. The richness ormeanness of their dress will depend on the humor of the moment. It willvary as much as health and spirits vary, which is more in some men thanin others. But the thoughts themselves he may produce, and be certain ofsaying _what_ he intended to say, even when he cannot say it _as_ heintended. It must often have been observed, by those who are at all inthe habit of observation of this kind, that the mind operates in thisparticular like a machine, which, having been wound up, runs on by itsown spontaneous action, until it has gone through its appointed course. Many men have thus continued speaking in the midst of an embarrassmentof mind which rendered them almost unconscious of what they were saying, and incapable of giving an account of it afterward; while yet theunguided, self-moving intellect wrought so well, that the speech was notesteemed unwholesome or defective by the hearers. The experience of thisfact has doubtless helped many to believe that they spoke frominspiration. It ought to teach all, that there is no sufficient causefor that excessive apprehension, which so often unmans them, and which, though it may not stop their mouths, must deprive their address of allgrace and beauty, of all ease and force. 

 [11] Nemo potest de eâ re, quam non novit, non turpissime dicere. Cic. De Or. 

7. We may introduce in this place another rule, the observance of whichwill aid in preventing the ill consequences resulting from theaccidental loss of self-possession. The rule is, utter yourself veryslowly and deliberately, with careful pauses. This is at all times agreat aid to a clear and perspicuous statement. It is essential to thespeaker, who would keep the command of himself and consequently of hishearers. 

One is very likely, when, in the course of speaking, he has stumbled onan unfortunate expression, or said what he would prefer not to say, orfor a moment lost sight of the precise point at which he was aiming, tohurry on with increasing rapidity, as if to get as far as possible fromhis misfortune, or cause it to be forgotten in the crowd of new words. But instead of thus escaping the evil, he increases it; he entangleshimself more and more; and augments the difficulty of recovering hisroute. The true mode of recovering himself is by increased deliberation. He must pause, and give himself time to think;--"ut tamen deliberare nonhæsitare videatur. " He need not be alarmed lest his hearers suspect thedifficulty. Most of them are likely to attribute the slowness of hisstep to any cause rather than the true one. They take it for granted, that he says and does precisely as he intended and wished. They supposethat he is pausing to gather up his strength. It excites theirattention. The change of manner is a relief to them. And the probabilityis, that the speaker not only recovers himself, but that the effort todo it gives a spring to the action of his powers, which enables him toproceed afterward with greater energy. 

8. In regard to language, the best rule is, that no preparation be made. There is no convenient and profitable medium between speaking frommemory and from immediate suggestion. To mix the two is no aid, but agreat hindrance, because it perplexes the mind between the verydifferent operations of memory and invention. To prepare sentences andparts of sentences, which are to be introduced here and there, and theintervals between them to be filled up in the delivery, is the surest ofall ways to produce constraint. It is like the embarrassment of framingverses to prescribed rhymes; as vexatious, and as absurd. To becompelled to shape the course of remark so as to suit a sentence whichis by and by to come, or to introduce certain expressions which arewaiting for their place, is a check to the natural current of thought. The inevitable consequence is constraint and labor, the loss of everything like easy and flowing utterance, and perhaps that worst ofconfusion which results from a jumble of ill assorted, disjointedperiods. It is unavoidable that the subject should present itself in alittle different form and complexion in speaking, from that which ittook in meditation; so that the sentences and modes of expression, whichagreed very well with the train of remark as it came up in the study, may be wholly unsuited to that which it assumes in the pronunciation. 

The extemporaneous speaker should therefore trust himself to the momentfor all his language. This is the safe way for his comfort, and the onlysure way to make all of a uniform piece. The general rule is certain, though there may be some exceptions. It may be well for example, toconsider what synonymous terms may be employed in recurring to the chieftopic, in order to avoid the too frequent reiteration of the same word. This will occasion no embarrassment. He may also prepare texts ofscripture to be introduced in certain parts of the discourse. These, ifperfectly committed to memory, and he be not too anxious to make a placefor them, will be no encumbrance. When a suitable juncture occurs, theywill suggest themselves, just as a suitable epithet suggests itself. Butif he be very solicitous about them, and continually on the watch for anopportunity to introduce them, he will be likely to confuse himself. Andit is better to lose the choicest quotation, than suffer constraint andawkwardness from the effort to bring it in. Under the same restrictionshe may have ready, pithy remarks, striking and laconic expressions, pointed sayings and aphorisms, the force of which depends on the preciseform of the phrase. Let the same rule be observed in regard to such. Ifthey suggest themselves (which they will do, if there be a proper placefor them), let them be welcome. But never let him run the risk ofspoiling a whole paragraph in trying to make a place for them. 

Many distinguished speakers are said to do more than this, --to write outwith care and repeat from memory their more important and persuasiveparts; like the _de bene esse's_ of Curran, and the splendid passages ofmany others. This may undoubtedly be done to advantage by one who hasthe command of himself which practice gives, and has learned to passfrom memory to invention without tripping. It is a different case fromthat mixture of the two operations, which is condemned above, and is infact only an extended example of the exceptions made in the lastparagraph. With these exceptions, when he undertakes, _bonâ fide_, anextemporaneous address, he should make no preparation of language. Language is the last thing he should be anxious about. If he have ideas, and be awake, it will come of itself, unbidden and unsought for. Thebest language flashes upon the speaker as unexpectedly as upon thehearer. It is the spontaneous gift of the mind, not the extorted boon ofa special search. No man who has thoughts, and is interested in them, isat a loss for words--not the most uneducated man; and the words he useswill be according to his education and general habits, not according tothe labour of the moment. If he truly feel, and wish to communicate hisfeelings to those around him, the last thing that will fail will belanguage; the less he thinks of it and cares for it, the more copiouslyand richly will it flow from him; and when he has forgotten every thingbut his desire to give vent to his emotions and do good, then will theunconscious torrent pour, as it does at no other season. This entiresurrender to the spirit which stirs within, is indeed the real secret ofall eloquence. "True eloquence, " says Milton, "I find to be none but theserious and hearty love of truth; and that whose mind soever is fullypossessed with a fervent desire to know good things, and with thedearest charity to infuse the knowledge of them into others, --when sucha man would speak, his words, like so many nimble and airy servitors, trip about him at command and in well ordered files, as he would wish, fall aptly into their own places. " Rerum enim copia (says the greatRoman teacher and example) verborum copiam gignit; et, si est honestasin rebus ipsis de quibus dicitur, existit ex rei naturâ quidam splendorin verbis. Sit modo is, qui dicet aut scribet, institutus liberalitereducatione doctrinâque puerili, et flagret studio, et a naturâadjuvetur, et in universorum generum infinitis disceptationibusexercitatus; ornatissimos scriptores oratoresque ad cognoscendumimitandumque legerit;--næ ille haud sane, quemadmodum verba struat etilluminet, a magistris istis requiret. Ita facile in rerum abundantiâ adorationis ornamenta, sine duce, naturâ ipsâ, si modo est exercitata, labetur. [12]

 [12] De Or. Iii. 31. 

9. These remarks lead to another suggestion which deserves the student'sconsideration. He should select for this exercise those subjects inwhich he feels an interest at the time, and in regard to which hedesires to engage the interest of others. In order to the best success, extemporaneous efforts should be made in an excited state, when the mindis burning and glowing, and longs to find vent. There are some topicswhich do not admit of this excitement. Such should be treated by thepen. When he would speak, he should choose topics on which his own mindis kindling with a feeling which he is earnest to communicate; and thehigher the degree to which he has elevated his feelings, the morereadily, happily, and powerfully will he pour forth whatever theoccasion may demand. There is no style suited to the pulpit, which hewill not more effectually command in this state of mind. He will reasonmore directly, pointedly, and convincingly; he will describe morevividly from the living conceptions of the moment; he will be moreearnest in persuasion, more animated in declamation, more urgent inappeals, more terrible in denunciation. Every thing will vanish frombefore him, but the subject of his attention, and upon this his powerswill be concentrated in keen and vigorous action. 

If a man would do his best, it must be upon topics which are at themoment interesting to him. We see it in conversation, where every one iseloquent upon his favorite subjects. We see it in deliberativeassemblies; where it is those grand questions, which excite an intenseinterest, and absorb and agitate the mind, that call forth those burstsof eloquence by which men are remembered as powerful orators, and thatgive a voice to men who can speak on no other occasions. Cicero tells usof himself, that the instances in which he was most successful, werethose in which he most entirely abandoned himself to the impulses offeeling. Every speaker's experience will bear testimony to the samething; and thus the saying of Goldsmith proves true, that, "to feelone's subject thoroughly, and to speak without fear, are the only rulesof eloquence. " Let him who would preach successfully, remember this. Inthe choice of subjects for extemporaneous efforts, let him have regardto it, and never encumber himself nor distress his hearers, with theattempt to interest them in a subject, which excites at the moment onlya feeble interest in his own mind. 

This rule excludes many topics, which it is necessary to introduce intothe pulpit, subjects in themselves interesting and important, but whichfew men can be trusted to treat in unpremeditated language; because theyrequire an exactness of definition, and nice discrimination of phrase, which may be better commanded in the cool leisure of writing, than inthe prompt and declamatory style of the speaker. The rule also forbidsthe attempt to speak when ill health, or lowness of spirits, or anyaccidental cause, renders him incapable of that excitement which isrequisite to success. It requires of him to watch over the state of hisbody--the partial derangement of whose functions so often confuses themind--that, by preserving a vigorous and animated condition of thecorporeal system, he may secure vigour and vivacity of mind. It requiresof him, finally, whenever he is about entering upon the work, to useevery means, by careful meditation, by calling up the strong motives ofhis office, by realizing the nature and responsibility of hisundertaking, and by earnestly invoking the blessing of God--to attainthat frame of devout engagedness, which will dispose him to speakzealously and fearlessly. 

10. Another important item in the discipline to be passed through, consists in attaining the habit of self-command. I have already advertedto this point, and noticed the power which the mind possesses ofcarrying on the premeditated operation, even while the speaker isconsiderably embarrassed. This is, however, only a reason for not beingtoo much distressed by the feeling when only occasional; it does notimply that it is no evil. It is a most serious evil; of littlecomparative moment, it may be, when only occasional and transitory, buthighly injurious if habitual. It renders the speaker unhappy, and hisaddress ineffective. If perfectly at ease, he would have every thing atcommand, and be able to pour out his thoughts in lucid order, and withevery desirable variety of manner and expression. But when thrown fromhis self-possession, he can do nothing better than mechanically stringtogether words, while there is no soul in them, because his mentalpowers are spell-bound and imbecile. He stammers, hesitates, andstumbles; or, at best, talks on without object or aim, as mechanicallyand unconsciously as an automaton. He has learned little effectually, till he has learned to be collected. 

This therefore must be a leading object of attention. It will not beattained by men of delicacy and sensibility, except by long and tryingpractice. It will be the result of much rough attrition with the world, and many mortifying failures. And after all, occasions may occur, whenthe most experienced will be put off their guard. Still, however, muchmay be done by the control which a vigorous mind has over itself, byresolute and persevering determination, by refusing to shrink or giveway, and by preferring always the mortification of ill success, to theincreased weakness which would grow out of retreating. 

There are many considerations, also, which if kept before the mind wouldoperate not a little to strengthen its confidence in itself. Let thespeaker be sensible that, if self-possessed, he is not likely to fail;that after faithful study and preparation, there is nothing to stand inhis way, but his own want of self-command. Let him heat his mind withhis subject, endeavour to feel nothing, and care for nothing, but that. Let him consider, that his audience takes for granted that he saysnothing but what he designed, and does not notice those slight errorswhich annoy and mortify him; that in truth such errors are of no moment;that he is not speaking for reputation and display, nor for thegratification of others, by the exhibition of a rhetorical model, or forthe satisfaction of a cultivated taste: but that he is a teacher ofvirtue, a messenger of Jesus Christ, a speaker in the name of God; whosechosen object it is to lead men above all secondary considerations andworldly attainments, and to create in them a fixed and lasting interestin spiritual and religious concerns;--that he himself therefore ought toregard other things as of comparatively little consequence while heexecutes this high function; that the true way to effect the object ofhis ministry, is to be filled with that object, and to be conscious ofno other desire but to promote it. Let him, in a word, be zealous to dogood, to promote religion, to save souls, and little anxious to makewhat might be called a fine sermon--let him learn to sink every thing inhis subject and the purpose it should accomplish--ambitious rather to dogood, than to do well;--and he will be in a great measure secure fromthe loss of self-command and its attendant distress. Not always--forthis feeble vessel of the mind seems to be sometimes tost to and fro, asit were, upon the waves of circumstances, unmanageable by the helm anddisobedient to the wind. Sometimes God seems designedly to show us ourweakness, by taking from us the control of our powers, and causing us tobe drifted along whither we would not. But under all ordinaryoccurrences, habitual piety and ministerial zeal will be an amplesecurity. From the abundance of the heart the mouth will speak. The mostdiffident man in the society of men is known to converse freely andfearlessly when his heart is full, and his passions engaged; and no manis at a loss for words, or confounded by another's presence, who thinksneither of the language, nor the company, but only of the matter whichfills him. Let the preacher consider this, and be persuaded of it, --andit will do much to relieve him from the distress which attends the lossof self-possession, which distorts every feature with agony, and distilsin sweat from his forehead. It will do much to destroy that incubus, which sits upon every faculty of the soul, and palsies every power, andfastens down the helpless sufferer to the very evil from which hestrives to flee. 

After all, therefore, which can be said, the great essential requisiteto effective preaching in this method (or indeed in any method) is adevoted heart. A strong religious sentiment, leading to a fervent zealfor the good of other men, is better than all rules of art; it will givehim courage, which no science or practice could impart, and open hislips boldly, when the fear of man would keep them closed. Art may failhim, and all his treasures of knowledge desert him; but if his heart bewarm with love, he will "speak right on, " aiming at the heart, andreaching the heart, and satisfied to accomplish the great purpose, whether he be thought to do it tastefully or not. 

This is the true spirit of his office, to be cherished and cultivatedabove all things else, and capable of rendering all its laborscomparatively easy. It reminds him that his purpose is not to makeprofound discussions of theological doctrines, or disquisitions on moraland metaphysical science; but to present such views of the great andacknowledged truths of revelation, with such applications of them to theunderstanding and conscience, as may affect and reform his hearers. Nowit is not study only, in divinity or in rhetoric, which will enable himto do this. He may reason ingeniously, but not convincingly; he maydeclaim eloquently, but not persuasively. There is an immense, thoughindescribable difference between the same arguments and truths, aspresented by him who earnestly feels and desires to persuade, and by himwho designs only a display of intellectual strength, or an exercise ofrhetorical skill. In the latter case, the declamation may be splendid, but it will be cold and without expression; lulling the ear, anddiverting the fancy, but leaving the feelings untouched. In the other, there is an air of reality and sincerity, which words cannot describe, but which the heart feels, that finds its way to the recesses of thesoul, and overcomes it by a powerful sympathy. This is a differencewhich all perceive and all can account for. The truths of religion arenot matters of philosophical speculation, but of experience. The heartand all the spiritual man, and all the interests and feelings of theimmortal being, have an intimate concern in them. It is perceived atonce whether they are stated by one who has felt them himself, ispersonally acquainted with their power, is subject to their influence, and speaks from actual experience; or whether they come from one whoknows them only in speculation, has gathered them from books, andthought them out by his own reason, but without any sense of theirspiritual operation. 

But who does not know how much easier it is to declare what has come toour knowledge from our own experience, than what we have gathered coldlyat second hand from that of others;--how much easier it is to describefeelings we have ourselves had, and pleasures we have ourselves enjoyed, than to fashion a description of what others have told us;--how muchmore freely and convincingly we can speak of happiness we have known, than of that to which we are strangers. We see, then, how much is lostto the speaker by coldness or ignorance in the exercises of personalreligion. How can he effectually represent the joys of a religious mind, who has never known what it is to feel them? How can he effectually aidthe contrite, the desponding, the distrustful, the tempted, who hasnever himself passed through the same fears and sorrows? or how can hepaint, in the warm colors of truth, religious exercises and spiritualdesires, who is personally a stranger to them? Alas, he cannot at allcome in contact with those souls, which stand most in need of hissympathy and aid. But if he have cherished in himself, fondly andhabitually, the affections he would excite in others, if he havecombated temptation, and practised self-denial, and been instant inprayer, and tasted the joy and peace of a tried faith and hope;--then hemay communicate directly with the hearts of his fellow men, and win themover to that which he so feelingly describes. If his spirit be alwayswarm and stirring with these pure and kind emotions, and anxious toimpart the means of his own felicity to others--how easily and freelywill he pour himself forth! and how little will he think of theembarrassments of the presence of mortal man, while he is conscious onlyof laboring for the glory of the ever present God. 

This then is the one thing essential to be attained and cherished by theChristian preacher. With this he must begin, and with this he must go onto the end. Then he never can greatly fail; for he will FEEL HIS SUBJECTTHOROUGHLY, AND SPEAK WITHOUT FEAR.