One manner of representation consists in making out of an assemblage of circumstances the image we endeavor to exhibit.  An example of this we have in Cicero’s description of a riotous banquet; he being the only one who can furnish us with examples of all kinds of ornaments:  “I seemed to myself to see some coming in, others going out; some tottering with drunkenness, others yawning from yesterday’s carousing.  In the midst of these was Gallius, bedaubed with essences, and crowned with flowers.  The floor of their apartment was all in a muck of dirt, streaming with wine, and strewed all about with chaplets of faded flowers, and fish-bones.”  Who could have seen more had he been present?

In this manner pity grows upon us from hearing of the sacking of a town.  Undoubtedly he who acquaints us of such an event, comprehends all the incidents of so great a calamity, yet this cursory piece of intelligence makes but a languid impression upon the mind.  But if you enter into descriptive pictures of all that was included in one word, as it were, flames will appear spreading through houses and temples; the crash of falling houses will be heard; and one confused noise formed out of all together.  Some will be seen striving to escape the danger, but know not where to direct their flight; others embracing for the last time their parents and relations; here the dismal shrieks of women and piercing cries of children fill one with pity; there the sighs and groans of old men, lamenting their unhappy fate for having lived so long as to be witnesses of their country’s desolation.  A further addition to these scenes of woe is the plunder of all things, sacred as well as profane; the avidity of the soldier prowling after and carrying away his prey; the wretched citizens dragged away in chains before their haughty conquerors; mothers struggling to keep with them their children; and slaughter still exercising its cruelties wherever there is the least expectation of booty.  Tho all these details are comprehended in the idea of the sacking of a town, yet it is saying less to state merely that the town was sacked than to describe its destruction in this circumstantial manner.

Such circumstances may be made to appear vivid if they retain a likeness to truth.  They may not have happened in reality, yet, as they are possible, the descriptive evidence is not objectionable.  The same evidence will arise also from accidents, as in the following examples: 

... me horror chills,
Shudd’ring, and fear congeals my curdling blood. 
Trapp.

             ... to their bosoms press’d,
     The frighted mothers clasp’d their crying babes. 
          
                                        Trapp.

This perfection, the greatest, in my opinion, a discourse can have, is very easily acquired by only considering and following nature.  For eloquence is a picture of the happenings of human life, every one applying to himself what he hears, by making the case in some measure his own, and the mind receives very willingly that with which it has become familiar.