of pronunciation; and I believe he did not perceive the need of them. His voice is naturally melodious; and though it be ill managed, it is, however, pleasing enough. But you see plainly that it does not make those strong, affecting impressions on the mind that it would produce, if it had such various inflections as are proper to express the speaker's sentiments. Such preachers are like fine clocks, that give a clear, full, soft, agreeable sound; but after all they are clocks only of no significancy; and having no variety of notes, they are incapable of harmony or eloquence. B. But were there not many graces in the rapidity of his discourse? A.—Yes; and I grant that in some affecting, lively passages one ought to speak faster than usual. But it is a great fault to speak with so much precipitation that one cannot stop himself, nor be distinctly understood. The voice and action bear some resemblance to verse. Sometimes we must use such a slow and grave measure as is fit to describe things of that character; and sometimes a short impetuous one, to express what is quick and ardent. To use always the same degree of action, and the same tone of voice, is like prescribing one remedy for all distempers. But we ought to excuse the uniformity of that preacher's voice and action. For, besides his possessing many excellent qualities, the fault we complain of is the natural effect of his style. We have already agreed that the modulation of the voice should be exactly suited to the words. Now his style is even, and uniform, without the least variety. On the one hand, it is not familiar, insinuating, and popular; and, on the other, it has nothing in it that is lively, figurative, and sublime; but it consists of a constant flow of words, that press one after the other; containing a close and well-connected chain of reasoning, on clear ideas. In a word, he is a man that talks good sense very correctly. Nay, we must acknowledge that he has done great service to the pulpit; he has rescued it from the servitude of vain declaimers, and filled it himself with much strength and dignity. He is very capable of convincing people; but I know few preachers who persuade and move them less than he doth. If you observe carefully, you will even find that his way of preaching is not very instructive, for besides his not having a familiar, engaging, pathetic manner of talking, (as I observed before,) his discourse does not in the least strike the imagination, but is addressed to the understanding only. It is a thread of reasoning that cannot be comprehended without the closest attention. And seeing there are but few hearers capable of such a constant application of mind, they retain little or nothing of his discourse. It is like a torrent that hurries along at once, and leaves its channel dry. In order to make a lasting impression on people's minds, we must support their attention, by moving their passions; for dry instructions can have but little influence. But the thing that I reckon least natural in this preacher is the continual motion he gives his arms, while there is nothing figurative nor moving in his words. The action used in ordinary conversation would suit his style best; or his impetuous gesture would require a style full of sallies and vehemence; and even then he behooved to manage his warmth better, and render it less uniform. In fine, I think he is a great man-but not an orator. A country preacher who can alarm his hearers, and draw tears from them, answers the end of eloquence better than he. B.- But how shall we know the particular gestures and the inflections of voice that are agreeable to nature?

A. I told you before that the whole art of good orators consists in observing what nature does when unconstrained. You ought not to imitate those haranguers who choose always to declaim, but will never talk to their hearers. On the contrary, you should address yourself to an audience in such a modest, respectful, engaging manner, that each of them shall think you are speaking to him in particular. And this is the use and advantage of natural, familiar, insinuating tones of voice. They ought always to be grave and becoming; and even strong and pathetic when

the subject requires it. But you must not fancy that you can express the passions by the mere strength of voice, like those noisy speakers who by bawling and tossing themselves about, stun their hearers, instead of affecting them. If we would succeed in painting and raising the passions, we must know exactly what movements they inspire. For instance, observe what is the posture, and what the voice of one whose heart is pierced with sorrow, or surprised at the sight of an astonishing object; remark the natural action of the eyes; what the hands do; and what the whole body. On such occasions nature appears, and you need only follow it; if you must employ art, conceal it so well under an exact imitation that it may pass for nature itself. But to speak the truth, orators in such cases are like poets who write elegies or other passionate verses; they must feel the passion they describe, else they can never paint it well. The greatest art imaginable can never speak like true passion and undisguised nature. So that you will always be but an imperfect orator if you be not thoroughly moved with those sentiments that you paint, and would infuse into others.

From "Dialogues on Eloquence.">

ISAAC WATTS

(1674-1748)

HE celebrated Dr. Watts, now remembered chiefly as the author of "Let Dogs Delight to Bark and Bite," was a man of great learning and a profound thinker. His work, "Improvement of the Mind," contains much that deserves to be kept in lasting remembrance. It shows that he was deeply impressed with the need for more accurate thought and more nearly adequate expression, especially in the pulpit. He was born at Southampton, England, July 17th, 1674. He was a "Dissenter," and his work in the pulpit was done chiefly as the pastor of an independent church in London. His "Logic" was published in 1725, and his essay on "Improvement of the Mind" in 1741. These are his chief works in prose. His hymns and his "Divine and Moral Songs for Children," published in 1720, show that he had developed the lyrical faculty as it has seldom been developed by English hymn writers. He died November 25th, 1748.

THE

THE ELOQUENCE OF COMMON SENSE

HE most necessary and most useful character of a style fit for instruction is, that it be plain, perspicuous, and easy. And here I shall first point out all those errors in a style which diminish or destroy the perspicuity of it, and then mention a few directions how to obtain a perspicuous and easy style.

The errors of style which must be avoided by teachers are these that follow:The use of many foreign words, which are not sufficiently naturalized and mingled with the language which we speak or write. It is true that in teaching the sciences in English we must sometimes use words borrowed from the Greek and Latin, for we have not in English names for a variety of subjects which belong to learning; but when a man affects, upon all occasions, to bring in long sounding words from the ancient languages, without necessity, and mingles French and other outlandish terms and phrases, where plain English would serve as well, he betrays a vain and foolish genius, unbecoming a teacher.

Avoid a fantastic learned style, borrowed from the various sciences, where the subject and matter do not require the use of them. Do not affect terms of art on every occasion, nor seek to show your learning by sounding words and dark phrases: this is properly called pedantry.

Young preachers, just come from the schools, are often tempted to fill their sermons with logical and metaphysical terms in explaining their text, and feed their hearers with sonorous words of vanity. This scholastic language perhaps may flatter their own ambition, and raise a wonderment at their learning among the staring

multitude, without any manner of influence toward the instruction of the ignorant, or the reformation of the immoral or impious. These terms of art are but the tools of an artificer, by which his work is wrought in private; but the tools ought not to appear in the finished workmanship.

There are some persons so fond of geometry, that they bring in lines and circles, tangents and parabolas, theorems, problems, and postulates, upon all occasions. Others who have dealt in astronomy borrow even their nouns and their verbs in their common discourse from the stars and planets. Instead of saying Jacob had twelve sons, they tell you Jacob had as many sons as there are signs in the zodiac. If they describe an inconstant person, they make a planet of him, and set him forth in all his appearances, direct, retrograde, and stationary. If a candle be set behind a screen, they call it eclipsed; and tell you fine stories of the orbit and the revolutions, the radii and the limb or circumference of a cart wheel.

Others again dress up their sense in chemical language. Extracts and oils, salts and essences, exalt and invigorate their discourses: a great wit with them is sublimated spirit, and a blockhead is a caput mortuum. A certain doctor in his bill swells in his own idea, when he tells the town that he has been counselor to the counselors of several kings and princes; that he has arrived at the knowledge of the green, black, and golden dragon, known only to magicians and hermetic philosophers. It would be well if the quacks alone had a patent for this language.

There are some fine affected words that are used only at court, and some peculiar phrases that are sounding or gaudy, and belong only to the theatre; these should not come into the lectures of instruction; the language of poets has too much of metaphor in it to lead mankind into clear and distinct ideas of things: the business of poesy is to strike the soul with a glaring light, and to urge the passions into a flame by splendid shows, by strong images, and a pathetic vehemence of style; but it is another sort of speech that is best suited to lead the calm inquirer into just conceptions of things.

There is a mean, vulgar style, borrowed from the lower ranks of mankind, the basest characters, and meanest affairs of life; this is also to be avoided, for it should be supposed that persons of liberal education have not been bred up within the hearing of such language, and consequently they cannot understand it; besides that it would create very offensive ideas, should we borrow even similes for illustration from the scullery, the dunghill, and the jakes.

An obscure and mysterious manner of expression and cloudy language is to be avoided. Some persons have been led by education, or by some foolish prejudices, into a dark and unintelligible way of thinking and speaking; and this continues with them all their lives, and clouds and confounds their ideas. Perhaps some of these may have been blessed with a great and comprehensive genius, with sublime natural parts, and a torrent of ideas flowing in upon them; yet for want of clearness in the manner of their conception and language, they sometimes drown their own subject of discourse, and overwhelm their argument in darkness and perplexity: such preachers as have read much of mystical divinity, and imitated its manner of expression, have many times buried a fine understanding under the obscurity of such a style.

A long and tedious style is very improper for a teacher, for this also lessens the perspicuity of it. Some learned writers are never satisfied unless they fill up every sentence with a great number of ideas and sentiments; they swell their propositions to an enormous size by explications, exceptions, and precautions, lest they should be mistaken, and crowd them all into the same period: they involve and darken their discourse by many parentheses, and prolong their sentences to a tiresome extent, beyond the reach of a common comprehension. Such sort of writers or speakers may

be rich in knowledge, but they are seldom fit to communicate it. He that would gain a happy talent for the instruction of others must know how to disentangle and divide his thoughts if too many of them are ready to crowd into one paragraph: and let him rather speak three sentences distinctly and perspicuously, which the hearer receives at once with his ears and his soul, than crowd all the thoughts into one sentence, which the hearer has forgot before he can understand it.

K

ON FORENSIC ARGUMENTS AND DISPUTES

EEP this always upon your mind as an everlasting rule of conduct in your debates to find out truth, that a resolute design, or even a warm affectation of victory, is the bane of all real improvement and an effectual bar against the admission of the truth which you profess to seek. This works with a secret, but a powerful and mischievous influence in every dispute, unless we are much upon our guard. It appears in frequent conversation; every age, every sex, and each party of mankind are so fond of being in the right, that they know not how to renounce this unhappy prejudice, this vain love of victory.

When truth with bright evidence is ready to break in upon a disputant, and to overcome his objections and mistakes, how swift and ready is the mind to engage wit and fancy, craft and subtilty, to cloud and perplex and puzzle the truth, if possible! How eager is he to throw in some impertinent question to divert from the main subject! How swift to take hold of some occasional word, thereby to lead the discourse off from the point in hand! So much afraid is human nature of parting with its errors, and being overcome by truth. Just thus a hunted hare calls up all the shifts that nature hath taught her; she treads back her mazes, crosses and confounds her former track, and uses all possible methods to divert the scent, when she is in danger of being seized and taken. Let puss practice what nature teaches; but would one imagine that any rational being should take such pains to avoid truth, and to escape the improvement of its understanding?

When you come to a dispute in order to find out truth, do not presume that you are certainly possessed of it beforehand. Enter the debate with a sincere design of yielding to reason, on which side soever it appears. Use no subtle arts to cloud and entangle the question; hide not yourself in doubtful words and phrases; do not affect little shifts and subterfuges to avoid the force of an argument; take a generous pleasure to espy the first rising beams of truth, though it be on the side of your opponent; endeavor to remove the little obscurities that hang about it, and suffer and encourage it to break out into open and convincing light; that while your opponent perhaps may gain the better of your reasonings, yet you yourself may triumph over error; and I am sure that is a much more valuable acquisition and victory.

The forum was a public place in Rome, where orators and lawyers made their speeches before the proper judge in matters of property, or in criminal cases, to accuse or excuse, to complain or defend; thence all sorts of disputations in public assemblies or courts of justice, where several persons make their distinct speeches for or against any person or thing whatsoever, but more especially in civil matters, may come under the name of forensic disputes.

This is practiced not only in the courts of judicature, where a single person sits to judge of the truth or goodness of any cause, and to determine according to the weight of reasons on either side, but it is used also in political senates or parliaments, ecclesiastical synods, and assemblies of various kinds.