IT is only the elegant speaker, who can at once regale the eye with the view of its most amiable object, the human form in all its glory; the ear, with the original of all music; the understanding, with its proper and natural food, the knowledge of im­portant truth; and the imagination, with all that is beau­tiful in nature and art—For the orator's field is the uni­verse, and his subjects are all that is known of God and his works; of superior natures, good and evil, and their works; and of inferior natures, and their's.—In a consum­mate speaker, whatever there is of corporal dignity or beauty, the majesty of the human face divine, the grace of action, the piercing glance, or gentle languish, or fiery flash of the eye; whatever of lively passion, or striking emotion of mind; whatever of fine imagination, of wise reflection, of irresistible reasoning; whatever excellent of human nature; all that the hand of the Creator has impressed of his own image, upon the noblest creatures we are acquainted with; all this appears in the consummate speaker to the highest advantage. And whoever is proof against such a display of all that is noble in human na­ture, must have neither eye, nor ear, nor passion, nor imagination, nor taste, nor understanding.

[Page 4] THOUGH it may be alledged, that a great deal of ges­ture or action at the bar, or in the pulpit, especially in the latter, is not wanted, nor is quite in character; yet most certain it is, that there is no part of a man that has not its proper attitude. The eyes are not to be rolled along the cieling, as if the speaker were taking care how the flies behave themselves. Nor are they to be con­t [...]antly cast down upon the ground, as if he were before his judge, receiving sentence of death. Nor are they to be fixed upon one point, as if he saw a ghost.—The arms of a preacher are not to be needlessly thrown out, as if he were drowning in the pulpit; or brandished after the manner of the ancient boxers, when they fought with their own shadows, to prepare themselves for the olimpic contests. Nor on the contrary are his hands to be pocketed up, nor his arms to hang by his sides, as if they were both withered. The head is not to stand fixed, as if the preacher had a crick in his neck; nor is it to nod at every third word, as if he were acting Jupiter.

A JUDICIOUS speaker is master of such a variety of decent and natural motions, and has such a command of attitude, that he will not be long enough in any one pos­ture to offend the eye of the spectator. The matter he has to pronounce, will easily suggest to him the propriety of changing his look, his posture, his motion and tone of voice, which if they were to continue too long, would become disagreeable to the beholders. But yet, he is not to be every moment changing posture like a harle­quin, nor throwing his hands about, as if he were shew­ing legerdemain tricks. And above all things, the public speaker is never to forget the great rule, ARS EST CELARE ARTEM. It would be infinitely more pleasing, to see him deliver himself with as little motion as an Egyptian mummy, than distorting himself into all the violations of [Page 5] decorum, which affectation produces; for art, seen through, is execrable. Modesty ought ever to be conspicuous in the behaviour of all, who exhibit themselves before the public. Whatever of gesture or exertion of voice such persons use, they ought apparently to be drawn into them, by the importance, spirit or humour of the matter. For if the speaker uses any arts of delivery which appear plainly to be studied, and unnatural, the effect will be, that his aukward and vain attempt to work upon the passions of his hearers by means, of which he is not master, will render him odious and contemptible to them.—With what stiff and pedantic solemnity do some public speakers utter thoughts so trifling, as to be hardly worth uttering at all? And what unnatural and unsuitable tones of voice and gestures do others apply, in deliver­ing what, by their manner of delivering, one would be apt to question, not only whether it is their own compo­sition, but whether they understand it?—Nor is it to be expected, that decorum of manner in preaching can ever be carried to any great perfection, while reading is thought to be preaching ^*—If the Greek and Roman [Page 6] orators had read their sermons, the effect would have been pretty much the same, as that which the reading of sermons produces among us. The hearers might have, many of them, dropped asleep. In some foreign countries, preachers are so much aware of the great disadvantage of reading, that such as have weak memories have a prompter behind in the pulpit, out of sight.—However, it must be owned, that if preachers would take suitable pains in committing to memory the substance of their discourses, so as not to be slaves to written notes, and endeavour to gain a tolerable readiness at extemporary amplification, their discourses might have effect, though the eye should now and then be cast upon the notes, if not in a clumsy manner, and with hesitation.—To hear a judicious and elegant discourse from the pulpit, which in print would make a noble figure, murdered by him who had learning and taste enough to compose it, but having neglected the important part of his education, knows not how to deliver it otherwise than with a dull tone, between singing and saying, or with a nod of his head, to enforce, as with a hammer, every emphatical word, or with the same unanimated monotony ^*, in which he was used to repeat quae genus at school; what can be imagin­ed more lamentable! Yet, what is more common? Were the educators of youth intended for the ministry, of the opinion of the prince of orators, viz. that delivery is the first, second and third part of oratory, they would spare some time from the many less necessary parts of school learning, to apply it to one so very essential; without which, the weight of the most sacred subject, the greatest depth of critical disquisition, the most unexceptionable reasoning, the most accurate arrangement of matter, and the most striking energy of style, are all lost upon an au­dience, [Page 7] who sit unaffected, and depart unimproved. From hence it is, that while places of divine and public wor­ship are almost empty, theatres are crowded. Yet in the former the most interesting subjects are treated of, and in the latter all is fiction. But it will not be otherwise, so long as the speakers, in places of divine worship, take no more pains to enforce their public instructions, and the most important truths, than if they delivered fictions; while the speakers in theatres bestow so much pains, to make their fictions seem to be true.—It may be said that this observation has been made before. The more is the pity. And it ought to be often made again and again, until the fault be mended.—Did preachers labour to acquire a masterly delivery, places of public instruction would be as crowded as places of public diversion. Rakes and infidels, merely to shew their taste, would frequent them. Could all frequent them, and none profit? It is common to hear complaints from our clergy, of the inattention of their hearers, even to dozing, and some­times profound sleep. But where does this complaint fall at last? Even upon the preachers themselves, who address their hearers with so much coolness and infiffer­ence, as leaves them nothing to do but to go to sleep. Let the preacher be but suitably animated, and exert him­self, and he may desy his hearers to sleep, or withdraw their attention for a moment.

THE clergy are likewise full of their complaints, of the little effect their labours produce.—Infidelity and vice, they say, prevail more than ever. But what is the plain English of this complaint? Why are churches so poorly filled? Why is it that those who attend, per­haps do it only for fashion's sake, and are not much better than their neighbours? Why, truly, the clergy [Page 8] find people loath to go to places of public instruction, to be disgusted, or lulled to sleep. And when they have them there, they cannot persuade them to quit their vices and follies, by lolling thirty or forty, or per­haps but twenty minutes, upon a velvet cushion; and only reading to them a learned discourse.—They cannot warm them to the love of virtue, by a cold, ill­read pulpit harangue. They cannot win their affections, while they neglect all the natural means for working upon the human passions. They cannot kindle in them that burning zeal, which is necessary for the most important of all interests, by talking or rather reading only, with the coolness of a sett of stoic philosophers, con­cerning the terrors of the Lord, of the worm that dies not, of future glory, honour and immortality, of everlasting kingdoms, and heavenly thrones.—It is common for preachers to plead their modesty, and fear of being ac­cused of affectation, in excuse of the dulness and the coldness of their manner of addressing their hearers. But are those any hinderance to the elocution of the actors, or even the actresses, who by study and practice get the better of fear, and attain an elegant and correct utterance, and are indeed almost the only speakers we have without appearance of affectation? But do our preachers in general bestow any thought, or use any means of any kind, for improving themselves in speak­ing? The younger part of the players rehearse and prac­tise over and over many times, and are long under the tuition of the principal actors, before they appear in public. But there are perhaps no other public speak­ers among us, who take such pains; though they be­stow great pains in improving themselves in learning; and yet of the two learning is less necessary to a preacher, than skill in persuading. Let the reader only con­sider, [Page 9] that a mechanic is under a master seven years at least, before he sets up for himself. But the preacher goes into the pulpit at once, without ever having had one lesson of instruction in that part of his art which is the chief and most necessary, and without which all his other accomplishments are worth nothing, toward gain­ing the great end of preaching.—It may be alledged, and it often has been alledged, by the clergy, that they cannot be expected to be great orators for fifty or an hundred pounds a year. The answer is ready, are there not many players who do not get more than the lower clergy? and yet they study hard, and take great pains, for no greater gain or encouragement, and do actually acquire such skill in speaking and performing, that for my part, if I desired to have a composition of mine well spoken, I would put it into the hands even of a second­rate stage-player, rather than of almost any preacher I ever heard.—What could be imagined more elegant, if entertainment alone were sought? What more useful, if the everlasting good of mankind were the object, than the sacred office of preaching properly performed? Were the most interesting of subjects treated with proper perspi­cuity, and adequate judgment, and well-composed discourses delivered to the listening crowds, with that dignity which becomes a teacher of divine truth, and with that energy and pathos, which would shew that the preacher spoke from his own heart, and really meant to speak to the hearts of his hearers, should we not soon see the good effects of such preaching? For mankind are not wood or stone. They may be drawn. They may be allured. They may be roused and startled. The voice of an able and well-accomplished preacher, thundering out the di­vine threatnings against vice, would be in the ear of the of­fender as if he heard the sound of the last trumpet, sum­moning [Page 10] the dead to judgement. And the gentle call of mercy, encouraging the terrified and almost despairing penitent to look up to his offended heavenly father, would be as the song of angels.—A whole multitude might as it were be lifted to the skies, and the world of spirits be opened to the eyes of their minds.—The terrors of that punishment which awaits vice; the glories of that state to which virtue and true piety, through divine grace, will raise the pious, might be, by a powerful preacher, rendered present to their understandings, with such conviction, as would make indelible impressions upon the hearts of the hearers, and work a substantial re­formation in their lives. The convincing and irrefragable proof, that real and important effects might he produced by preachers, by a proper use of oratory, to the good purposes of instructing and amending mankind, is, that oratory, in all times, has been known actually to pro­duce great alterations in mens ways of thinking and act­ing. And there is no denying plain facts. No one can imagine that oratory could have been so laboriously cultivated by statesmen, in all free and flourishing govern­ments, had they not found it useful to the state. But if any one should alledge that there is nothing in the power of preachers by means of oratory, I would ask, does it not then follow, that the whole office of preaching may as well be laid aside? For if good speaking will have no effect, surely bad will have none. A Perecles, or a Demosthenes, could shake all Greece, when they warned their coun­trymen against an invasion, or alarmed them about the danger of their liberties, whilst our preachers can hardly keep their hearers awake, when they stand forth in the name of God, to warn them against the consequences of vice, so ruinous to individuals, so ruinous to nations; the cause not only of the subversion of states and kingdoms, when luxury and corruption spread their fatal contagion, [Page 11] and leave a people the unthinking prey of tyranny and oppression, but of utter and irretrievable destruction, from the presence of the Lord, and the glory of his power, when the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised, and he shall sit upon the throne of judgment, from whose face heaven and earth shall flee away.

IT may perhaps be objected, that sacred truth needs no ornament to set it off, nor art to enforce it: That the apostles were artless and illiterate men, and yet they gain­ed the great end of their mission, the conviction of mul­titudes, and the establishment of Christianity: And that therefore there is no necessity of such attention to deli­very, in order to qualify the preacher for his sacred of­fice, or to render his labours successful.—To all this an answer it ready.—The apostles were not all artless and illiterate men. St. Paul, the greatest and most ge­neral propagator of Christianity, is an eminent exception. He could be no mean orator who confounded the Jews at Damascus; made a Prince, before whom he stood to be judged, confess that he had almost persuaded him to become a convert to a religion every where spoken against; threw another into a fit of trembling, as he sat upon his judgment seat; made such a defence before the learned court of Areopagus, as gained him for a convert, who was a member of the court itself; struck a whole people with such admiration, that they took him for the God of eloquence; and gained him a place in Longinus's list of famous orators. Would the cold mono­tony of our English sermon-readers have produced such effects as these? Surely it would not.

BUT farther it may be added, the apostles might very well spare human accomplishments, having what was worth [Page 12] them all, the divine gift of working miracles, which if our preachers had, we should not have much to say about their qualifying themselves in elocution. But, as it is, pub­lic instruction is the preacher's weapon, with which he is to combat infidelity and vice. But what avails a weapon without skill to weild it? Therefore the preacher ought, above all other public speakers, to labour to enrich and adorn, in the most masterly manner, his addresses to man­kind, his views, if as they ought to be, being the most important.

WHAT grand point has the player to gain? Why, to draw an audience to the theatre. The pleader at the bar, if he lays before the judges and jury the true state of the case, so as they may be most likely to see where the right of it lies, has done his duty. The speaker in either house of Parliament has only to consider that the good of his country may in a great measure depend upon his tongue. But the infinitely important subject of preaching is the reformation of mankind, upon which de­pends their happiness in this world, and throughout the whole of their being. Of how great importance is it then, that the art of preaching be carried to such perfec­tion, that all may be drawn to places of public instruc­tion, and that those who attend them may receive bene­fit! And if almost the whole of preaching, to any good effect, depends upon delivery, how necessary is the stu­dy of delivery! That a good and lively delivery is in­comparably the most important part of public instruction, is plainly manifest from this, that very indifferent matter, well delivered, will make a considerable impression. But bad utterance will defeat the whole effect of the noblest composition that ever was produced. While exorbi­tant appetite and unruly passion within, while evil ex­ample, [Page 13] with alluring sollicitation, without, invite and ensnare the frail and thoughtless into guilt; shall virtue and religion, preached from the pulpit, hold forth no charms to engage votaries? Pleasure decks herself out with rich attire, and must Religion present herself with every disadvantage, and must she appear quite unadorn­ed? What chance can she then have, in competition with an enemy so much better furnished with every necessary invitation and allurement?

LET it be considered that our preachers do not address innocents in Paradise, but thoughtless and habituated sin­ners. Mere cold reading will have but little effect upon such. For weak is the hold which reason has on most men. Few of mankind have able heads. All have hearts; and all hearts may be touched, if the speaker is but master of his art. The business of the preacher is not so much to inform the understanding, as to warm the heart. For there are few who do not know their duty; to allure them to the doing it, is the difficulty. Nor is this to be effected by cold reasoning. Accordingly the scripture ora­tors are none of them cold. They spake in demonstration of the spirit, and with power, as having authority, and not as the cold Scribes. Their addresses are such as hardly any man can utter without warmth. It is true, the preach­er is carefully to avoid ostentation; he is not to preach himself, but Christ. But, at the same time, he is to stir up every gift that is in him; to cry aloud, and not to spare; to lift up his voice like a trumpet; to reprove, correct and instruct; to be instant in season and out of season; to become, innocently, all things to all men, and consequently to become and orator, if his hearers are not to be affected by simple and unadorned truth, how­ever weighty. What can people think about the sincerity, [Page 14] or rather about the insincerity of the preacher, who is cold, languid, and wholly unanimated in his public instructions; but is as warm as other men, in the defence of an incon­siderable part of his estate? Would he speak as calmly, as unconcernedly for his life, as he does in the cause of virtue and religion?—If it should be said by preachers, "the people will be as much offended with us, if we over-act our part, as they are now indifferent about at­tending our ministry; so that it will avail nothing to study and practise a more lively delivery:" To this it may be answered, that a manner of preaching may be used, which shall have ten times more life and vivacity in it than the present, and yet, if it be not incorrect, or un­natural, be very safe from all danger of exceeding due bounds, as to vivacity and force. And in fact we do ob­serve, that no preacher is admired, I do not mean by the mob, but by people of education, whose delivery is dull and unanimated.—The great Doctor Delany, among other hints proper for a young preacher, said, that "when­ever he went up into a pulpit, he desired to look upon it as the last time he should ever preach, or the last time that the people should ever hear him." If all preachers, however dignified, went always up into their respective pulpits thus impressed; they would then preach, as Ap­pelles once said he painted, for eternity. They would then act the part of true gospel Christian orators, and not only calmly and coolly inform the understanding, but by persuasive and pathetic address endeavour to move the affections, and warm the heart. To act otherwise, be­speaks a sad ignorance of human nature, and such an inexcusable indolence and indifference in the preacher, as must constrain his hearers to suspect that the preacher, let him be who he will, only deals in the false commerce of [Page 15] unfelt truth. The late pious and learned Doctor Isaac Watts, speaking of words without spirit, and of preaching by written notes, said, ‘that paper, with the most pathetic lines written upon it, has no fear nor hope, no zeal or compassion; it is conscious of no design, nor has any sollicitude for the success: And a mere reader, who coldly tells the people what his paper says, seems to be as void of all these necessary qualifications, as his paper is.’