Even if we imagine our failure to be extreme, we have no need to feel unduly discouraged. God can, and does, often work with the feeblest instruments, and the sermon we despise may accomplish its purpose. The writer preached one evening when very weary, and almost unprepared. From first to last a painful effort was required to find anything to say, and to prevent utter failure the intended plan had to be abandoned, and new, detached thoughts thrown in as they could be found. And yet that discourse, which was scarcely worthy of the name, elicited warmer approval, and apparently accomplished more good, than any one from the same preacher ever given at that point. But such instances should never lead us to neglect all the preparation in our power, for usually when failure springs from a real defect, the verdict of the people will coincide with our own.
However we may judge of our success it is not wise to ask any of our hearers for their opinion. We may observe any indications of the effect produced, and, if the criticisms of others are offered spontaneously, it is not necessary to repulse them, especially if they are marked by a spirit of candor and good will; but all seeking for commendation is debasing. It is sweet to hear our sermons praised, and most of men can endure an amount of flattery addressed to themselves, that would be disgusting if applied to others; but if we indulge this disposition it will become ungovernable, and expose us to well-deserved ridicule. It is pitiable to see a man who is mighty in word and thought, who wields the vast powers of eloquence, stooping to beg crusts of indiscriminate praise from his hearers. Nothing contributes more to destroy our influence, and make our audience believe that we are merely actors, unaffected by the sublime truths we declare.
It is well to think over our sermons after they have been preached, and if any defect appear, amend it in the plan, and add all the new ideas that may have been suggested during speech. This prepares us to preach still better when we have occasion to use the same plan a second time.
Some ministers are accustomed to write their sermons after delivery. This may do well, especially when the theme is of great importance, but in general, it is questionable whether the advantage is great enough to warrant the expenditure of so much time.
But to review and correct a verbatim report of our sermons would be far more profitable. If some short-hand writer—a member of our family, or any other who is willing to take so much trouble—will preserve our words for us, a revisal of them on Monday would be of immense benefit. The offensiveness of pet phrases, which we might otherwise be unconscious of for years, would be detected at once. Faults of expression, and especially the profuseness of words, in which extempore speakers are apt to indulge, would be forced upon our notice; and if any really valuable ideas occurred, they could be preserved. There would be little use in writing the sermon over in full, for we would commonly find that it might be reduced to one-third or one-fourth its bulk without material injury. The habitual condensation of our sermons after delivery, would teach us to express our thoughts compactly even in speech.
The only difficulty in applying this capital means of improvement, is the small number of persons who can write short-hand with sufficient rapidity—a difficulty that may be less in the future than it has been in the past, and can now be obviated by the minister’s wife or daughters, who may have sufficient perseverance and devotion to master the laborious, but precious art for his sake.
PART III.
MISCELLANEOUS ADDRESSES.
CHAPTER I.
INSTRUCTIVE ADDRESS.
We will give only a brief consideration to the various fields of oratory outside the pulpit, because the greater number of principles already laid down can be applied, with slight modifications, to any kind of speech. The different varieties of secular address may be divided as follows:
I. Instructive Oratory.