effect is likely to be proportionally more satisfactory to yourself and impressive to your congregation'.

1 I think by far the majority of preachers would, as beginners, find the above remarks, on the method of composing, useful. Undoubtedly it may be said of some prose writers, as of poets, nascuntur, non fiunt: but this is not so universally true of one class as of the other. There is no law, human or Divine, which prevents men of moderate ability from being good preachers; but a man cannot be a good preacher without some power of composition, either intuitive or acquired.

LETTER XXIV.

ON THE EXORDIUM.

HAVING spoken generally on the method of composing, we come now to treat more particularly of the mode of disposing the materials. All that can be pronounced positively on the necessary parts of a sermon is, that every sermon must have a beginning, a middle, and an end. Even this truism might be disputed; as some preachers dispense with an exordium, and others have no conclusion properly so called. Others, again, so construct their sermon that the beginning, the middle, and end, might safely change places without any great detriment to its effect. However, as most good sermons have three distinct parts-exordium, discussion, and conclusion -we will begin by considering the former.

To me it appears that the exordium is far from being an unimportant part of a sermon; but that, on

the contrary, it deserves particular attention. It is, in all things, a great point to make a favourable impression. Besides, your congregation are more disposed to listen at the beginning than at any other time. Therefore, it should be your object to make the most of your opportunity to fix their attention. If the exordium is good, it will ensure a favourable reception to your sermon, for a while at least; whereas, if otherwise, it may be difficult afterwards to arrest the attention of your hearers.

The theory of an exordium is this. You find the minds of your hearers unoccupied and unmoved. Your exordium ought to be so contrived, as to remove their indifference. It should turn their attention to the particular object of your sermon; and leave them desirous of hearing you further, impressed with the idea that what you have to say is worth attending to. When the exordium has been delivered, they should be, as a physician would say, "in a state of gentle excitement." Hence, in the first place, your exordium should be interesting; not flat and common-place, but engaging and agreeable.

A good deal will depend on your own manner. If you seem to take little interest yourself, your congregation will be similarly unconcerned. But if your own mind is evidently filled with the importance of your subject, you will scarcely fail to interest your hearers.

But further, in order that the exordium may be

interesting, it should either move the feelings, or fix the understanding. With a view to the former, it should be pitched in the same key with the discourse itself. Thus, on Christmas or Easter day, your manner and matter would naturally be joyous and elevating; on Good Friday, or on the occasion of a funeral sermon, a sad and solemn air, and serious reflections, would best introduce the subject. On a fast day, you would commence in a somewhat stern and serious manner; and the language of your exordium should correspond with your manner. So when about to bring forward some lofty mystery, your exordium should be more than usually impressive and elevated, in order to prepare the mind for reverence and admiration. Sometimes, if you wish to strike your hearers forcibly, your exordium may be in contrast with their preconceived affections; for nothing fixes the attention more than contrast. In all these ways may you interest their feelings. At other times address rather their understanding. Set before them some striking and important truths. Show them that the subject of your discussion is worth their attention-their serious attention; interesting to all-interesting to them in particular. Do not, however, tell your hearers every Sunday that the subject you are about to preach on is the most important and interesting of any; and do not assert that it is so at all, without giving some good reason.

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Secondly the exordium should be generally rather cool and grave than otherwise, because the minds of your hearers are unmoved and unexcited. On this principle, the language should be clear and simple, not loaded with metaphors and ornaments of speech, nor couched in the form of interrogatories or violent exclamations. At the same time it should be carefully written; for your hearers are more disposed to criticise at that time than at any other. Their mind is not sufficiently excited to bear any thing but what is simple and correct; as the stomach when sensitive will not bear high food. But this rule is not universal. The commencement of the first oration of Cicero against Catiline, beginning, “Quousque tandem abutere, Catilina, patientiâ nostrâ," is often quoted as an instance of departure from grave exordium 1. When the minds of the hearers are already moved with passion, there is no need to excite them gradually; you have only to strike the same key. It is so in Massillon's celebrated exordium on the funeral of Louis XIV. "Dieu seul est grand." When you have attained eminence in the pulpit, and your congregation habitually expect to hear something which shall elevate and affect them, you may open your sermon with some such striking exordium ; but until then, you will succeed best by being cool, grave, and simple.

1 See Quinctilian.