study in private to get rid of these defects, just as he studies to correct his bad grammar, or to perfect his composition. Thus far it is the province of art to help and correct nature, to develop and bring out faculties which may be dormant, to form and to perfect taste; in one word, to bring the orator back to nature. But, once he enters the pulpit, let him think no more of art and its rules; let him deliver himself simply, earnestly, and fearlessly, to the guidance of higher and holier instincts; let him seek to be the child and disciple of nature, and he will be perfect.

Besides being natural, the action of the pulpit must be edifying. St. Charles Borromeo, although labouring under many natural defects of voice, manner, and style, produced, nevertheless, a profound impression by the grave modesty of his manner, and by the evangelical air of unction which spoke so eloquently of his sanctity as to seize upon the hearts of his hearers, and move them powerfully to good. The same is related of St. Francis de Sales, Massillon, and many other celebrated preachers. It was enough to see them in the pulpit. Before they had spoken a word they had gained possession of their hearers. It is said of Massillon that, when he commenced to speak, he did so in such a manner as to give you the impression that he could no longer refrain from giving expression to the sublime truths of which he was full; that he could no longer restrain the fire with which he was consumed. It seemed to become speak; and, speaking

a simple necessity of his soul to under such a necessity, he carried his hearers by storm. Applying these principles to himself, the young

preacher will see at a glance how carefully he should avoid in the pulpit any gesture that is in the least extravagant or outré. Some preachers indulge in extravagant gestures; they rant and they scold. They are wrong. The spirit of God is peace-it is calm, gentle, grave, and dignified; and it will carry persuasion to hearts which more laboured efforts would merely disgust. He will see, too, that in striving to show in his exterior the simplicity and the modesty of the man of God, he ought not merely to avoid extravagant gesture, but also any undue affectation of elegance or of studied action. Finally, he will understand that the gesture which may suit one man perfectly, may be most unbecoming in another. For example, there is an air, if you will an assumption, of authority which sits perfectly well upon a prelate, a priest who has been long years engaged in the work of the ministry, or upon a celebrated orator who has possession of the public ear, which would be as disedifying as it would be mischievous if it were assumed by a young or an unknown preacher.

Whilst the young preacher avoids extravagance, he will equally guard against too great a monotony of action. As the sentiments with which he is animated will naturally vary according to the different parts of his discourse, so, the action which helps to give those sentiments their full expression will also vary in like manner. Some preachers have but one tone of voice with which to express passions that are most distinct; and but one gesture, that which has been compared to the action of a pump-handle, with which to give expression to every sentiment. What can be more contrary

to nature? The man who acts in this manner, who never varies his tone or his gesture, is surely more like the scholar who recites his lesson, than the orator who preaches. It is a long time since Horace first described him, under the figure of the wretched harper who always plays upon the same string:

"Ut citharœdus

Ridetur, chordâ qui semper oberrat eâdem.”—Ars poet.

The man who is the slave of this unvarying monotony will find it very difficult to influence his hearers. They will doubt the reality of the convictions which are expressed in such a cold and lifeless manner. More than that this monotony will often render him unintelligible, since there are many words in every language, the full meaning of which depends upon the tone in which they are uttered, and the force with which they are expressed. When there is a want of unity between the sentiment uttered and the manner in which it is expressed, our hearers feel instinctively that there is something wrong, and the discourse fails in producing its effect. On the contrary, when the delivery is sufficiently varied, they become interested at once. They give themselves over to him who speaks to them in so natural and pleasing a manner. They appreciate the perfect agreement and concord which exist between his thoughts and the manner in which they are expressed; a concord which gives its due character to his whole delivery, to the countenance, the eyes, the hands, the voice of the orator; a concord which modifies itself continually according to the requirements of the sub

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ject, and thus continually tends to the beauty and perfection of oratory. The effect of such a delivery may be compared to that produced by the performance of a piece of music, of which the great beauty consists in the perfect adaptation of the various tones to the ideas to be conveyed. A delivery which is sufficiently varied and expressive has a wonderful power, since it succeeds in painting the thoughts and sentiments of the speaker in the plainest and most vivid manner. Each gesture has its own signification, just as each word has its own meaning. When these receive their full development at the hands of the skilful speaker they impart an irresistible charm to oratory. Thence the most finished composition derives a new grace; happiest thoughts a keener vitality; the loftiest sentiments a greater intensity and force. And, as a necessary result, the audience are gained more easily, more completely, and more surely, to the will of the orator and to the end which he proposes.

Finally, let the young preacher strive to adapt his action to his subject. When he simply instructs, let his action be calm and gentle as that of a parent who addresses his children. When he speaks of the great eternal truths, let him put on the air and the voice of the prophet who proclaims the attributes of an avenging God, and who, as he does so, trembles for his brethren and for himself. Let him equally adapt his action to his hearers. Before the great and the learned, let him speak with the modest dignity of the ambassador of Christ; before the people, with the authority which has been intrusted to him. He may

allow himself a vehemence of tone and gesture with the simple inhabitants of the country, which would not be merely out of place, but perhaps absolutely injurious to his object, when addressing a city audience. In all cases, let him speak, not rant; let his most expressive gesture be controlled and regulated by the modesty and self-possession of the Christian orator-the man who speaks for God with the authority of God- -an authority the possession of which will give to him who realizes what it is, a force, a power, a simple majesty, and a natural eloquence, which no mere precept could ever teach him, and which no mere art could ever inspire.

SECTION II

LEADING QUALITIES OF THE ACTION OF THE PULPIT.

We have said that the finished orator speaks almost as vividly by his bodily action as with his voice, and we have indicated the nature of the action of the pulpit, as well as the great principles by which it should be regulated. Beyond this it is scarcely possible to go in mere theoretical teaching. Vandenhoff, himself an accomplished elocutionist and skilful teacher, thus expresses himself on this matter: "I know of no means of teaching gesture by written instructions; nor do I think that much assistance can be gathered from plates of figures representing different actions and attitudes.

"The first point to be aimed at as the foundation