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the fire. Wherefore, by their fruits ye shall know them." Nor did he explain the words: "Herein is my father glorified, that ye bear much fruit." Nor did the apostle explain himself, when writing to the Galatians, that "the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace," and all the other spiritual graces. They did not pause to explain, neither shall we. It is sufficient for our purpose to notice, in passing, that our spiritual nomenclature has been abundantly enriched from this source, as will be apparent to all who call to mind the many passages where these and cognate words and phrases are employed.

Something more may be said about this chaff chased by the wind-driven away by the whirlwind, as Hosea has it. Chaff is the metaphorical symbol of the ungodly and their doom. John Baptist expands the allusion by mentioning the fan by which the floor was purged the chaff separated from the wheat, and then burned up with unquenchable fire. This final portion of their doom was probably suggested by a custom which the writer has noticed more than once, and the Baptist had no doubt noticed the same. In "purging" the floor the following results occur. As the mixed contents are tossed up to the wind, the wheat falls nearest the operator, the tibn or ground-up straw next, and the light dust and useless chaff are carried further off-quite outside the floor, if the wind be strong. This useless chaff is often burnt on the spot. A farmer once told the writer that he thus burnt it, not merely because it was of no use, but also because there were mingled with it the seeds of tares and noxious weeds, which would be dispersed over his fields by the wind, or carried thither by the first autumn rains. It was not merely valueless, but positively mischievous; and so are the ungodly, who shall perish like the chaff.

We have not yet exhausted the contributions to our religious language which this short Psalm has made. The two last verses introduce us to an Oriental court, with the litigants or the accused standing before the judge, just as they do still, and the resultant condition and behavior of the good and the evil. But it would be tedious to notice

all those incidental, and yet accurate, touches which an unconscious reference to the customs and incidents of an Oriental "judgment-seat," have added to this picture. Nor will time or space permit us to enter into such minuteness of analysis and illustration in dealing with other Psalms; though they may be equally suggestive, and even more appropriate to our general purpose. We can only glance at a few examples taken at random from the vast poetical storehouse of the Bible. These specimens will be selected with sole reference to the matter in hand. Our search is after the natural, physical basis of our spiritual language, and wherever that leads we will follow.




I PROPOSE in this Lecture to speak of eloquence as it has appeared in connection with the English tongue. The Grecian and Roman eloquence is often treated, and greatly praised. The question presents itself, Is there not something in the records of our own language and race which, at least, approaches these renowned specimens of antiquity? I think we can show that there is. Something, at least, worthy our study, our admiration, and imitation.

I shall confine myself very much to the eloquence of debate, and shall, in the first place, attempt a very rapid sketch of eloquence in the English field, giving prominence to the conflicts and progress of debate on the parliamentary arena; giving also certain facts in the history of leading speakers, and deriving from the whole certain principles and lessons such as may be profitable to those who aspire to anything in the same line.

In glancing over the field of English eloquence, as I propose to do first, we find but little that is satisfactory in parlia

mentary speaking only a century back of the present time; and at two centuries, all is exceedingly dim and uncertain. How fittingly and well the learned Coke was accustomed to speak, whom Bacon reproaches with speaking too much; how Selden talked in Parliament who talked so well at the table; how Elliott uttered the intensity of his conviction, or Phillips poured forth the boiling fervor of his passion; what the force and point Waller, so skilled in verse, gave to his prose when he pleaded for his own head; what the spirit and structure of Stafford's final words, when he stood before his inexorable judges; how Cromwell could wield the weapon of argument, who could cut his way to conclusions with the sword; we know, indeed, something, but only in general. We know enough, however, to satisfy us that these, and other men of their times, uttered themselves with great strength and effectiveness.

The first considerable cluster of eloquent men under the British constitution we find in the vicinity of 1640. There gathered here a great conflict and crisis. Men's liberties were touched, and their passions were stirred, and their energies profoundly roused and tasked. Pym and Hampden stood forth at this time as the great leaders, and the master spirits of debate. The eloquence of the period, doubtless, resembled its literature. The latter part of the sixteenth and the early part of the seventeenth century, are justly regarded as the great creative period of English literature. The mind was then in its productive freshness; the field of thought and imagery all untouched before it. Men of wonderful powers came forward to occupy the field-gigantic men. They went to work somewhat rudely, indeed, but they delved deep, and brought up the gold and the silver and the iron in masses; and without stopping to polish, or even knowing how, they threw out the bare material with a boundless profusion. The language, too, was like the mind that spoke through it. It had just become settled into English, and had not been refined out of its majesty and strength. It was rough and massive; precisely the medium

wanted for great and original sentiments. As the writers, so the speakers, of this period were somewhat unfinished and coarse, often delivering themselves with great bluntness as well as power. Many there were who, in the phrase of one of them, "knew how to give a lick with the rough side of their tongue," and now and then it proved to be exceedingly rough.

Immediately subsequent to this period we find more accuracy, more refinement, but a sad decline in all the higher attributes of speech. All the writing and much of the speaking went for a season into a condition of tameness. The heavy and coarse things of more vigorous days were not endured. A fastidious delicacy prevailed. A nice precision was attempted. The even flow was loved. The cold. substance was shaped and smoothed with the file. The time of Queen Anne, in which this abatement of manly vigor first took place, was distinguished, however, by the effective oratory of Lords Somers and Bolingbroke. The former, coming earlier upon the stage, the leading speaker and statesman of the period, was at once masculine and persuasive in the style and tone of his discourse.

We pass on now to the time of George the first and his great minister, Sir Robert Walpole, who extended his office and influence far into the subsequent reign. Around this minister we find the next remarkable cluster of great and eloquent men. The minister himself must have possessed no ordinary powers of debate in order to retain so long his power of place against the voices so terribly assailing him. Bolingbroke stood forth at this time in the solid strength of his maturity; in whom, according to Chesterfield's description, there met nearly all the qualities of a splendid and successful eloquence. So eager was the curiosity of Pitt to see some specimens of what was so admired and so potent in its time, that he is reported to have desired a speech of Bolingbroke, more than the recovery of all that has perished of ancient literature. William Pulteney was another leading mind in the opposing array-one of the great orators

of England. He had strong, inbred sense, and he was thoroughly disciplined-spoke with a classical finish, and with a large measure of the true ancient fire. He united beauty and force, wit and argument. The blade was polished, it was also keen; the weapon was pleasant to the sight, but often dreadful in its stroke. There were others in that array, but there is not time to speak of them individually. They were all lost in the strong blaze of a luminary, which suddenly rose upon the minister's declining age and influence. The voice of William Pitt was commanding and terrible in its first accents. The minister feared it the moment it broke upon his ear, and he said: "We must, at all events, muzzle that terrible Cornet of Horse." But the mouth of William Pitt was not made to be muzzled. There was a spirit within which would compel that mouth to speak so long as his head should stand upon his shoulders. Pitt is remarkable as, on the whole, England's greatest orator, and also as a connecting link between two great periods of English eloquence. Rising before the splendid galaxy we have just referred to passed away, he shone on till the appearance of that still more splendid galaxy which marked the close of the last century. In this last-named period we are brought to the true freedom and fire of debate; the skill at attack and retort, the wit, the sarcasm, the invective of minds heated by collision and struggling for victory. This, beyond all question, was the Augustan period. No eloquence before or since, in the English language, has equalled in all the masterly qualities, the cloquence which distinguished the last quarter of the eighteenth century. The leading speakers of this period were Chatham, Murray, Lord North, Burke, Barre, Fox, Pitt, Sheridan, Grattan, Erskine, Dundas, Dunning, Windham, and Wilberforce.

Lord Chatham's fire had nearly gone out; but there were some gleamings of his greatness, as he uttered his indignant. sentiments upon the subject of the hostilities against the American colonies. He was, at this time of his life, imperious in his bearing, dealing more in authority than in argument.

VOL. XXIX. No. 113.

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