OSWIOfe VgK«i COPPENS ~ ■ -r- wm fwm **+et**m&L + s» #m tmivi m tr.i * m wtl WMi fyxmll WLuivmity ptatg BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME FROM THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND THE GIFT OF Hcnrg W. Sage 1891 AJM*$ A if-'/, / ?aearance may add ''much to the effect of his words is at once apparent, and a favorable appearance is evidently a gift of nature ; so likewise is a strong^and melodious voice. The latter can be greatly improved by judicidlis~TrnMvation, as was that of Demosthenes. It may not be improper to recall in this place the energetic and persevering efforts which this greatest of orators made to improve his natural gifts and to remove his natural defects. " He bade adieu,'' says Plutarch in his life of Demosthenes, " to the other stud- ies and exercises in which boys are engaged, and applied himself with great assiduity to declaiming, in hopes of be- ing one day numbered among the orators. . . . He built himself a subterraneous study, which has remained to our times. Thither he repaired every day to form his action and exercise his voice ; and he would often stay there for two or three months together, shaving one side of his head, that if he should happen to be ever so desirous of going abroad the shame of appearing in that condition might keep him in. . . . As for his personal defects, Demetrius the Phalerean gives us an account of the remedies he applied Special Talents. 25 to them, and he says he had it from Demosthenes himself in his old age. The hesitation and stammering of his tongue he corrected by speaking with pebbles in his mouth ; and he strengthened his voice by running or walking up-hill and pronouncing some passage in an oration or poem dur- ing the difficulty of breathing which that exercise caused. He had, moreover, a looking-glass in his house, before which he used to declaim and adjust all his motions." CHAPTER II. MORAL VIRTUES. 20. But far more important than any physical power in the orator are the moral virtues with which nature and his own efforts, with the help of God's grace, have adorned his soul. " In order to be a truly eloquent or persuasive speaker," says Blair (Lect. xxxiv.), " nothing is more neces- sary than to be a virtuous man. This was a favorable posi- tion among the ancient rhetoricians :\JVon posse oratorem esse nisi virum bonum — ' That no one could be an orator except a good man.' " It is the chief duty of education to make men virtuous ; any system of training which does not put virtue in the first place is a false system. Now, the virtues most necessary for an orator are : 21. 1. Elflhity "The greater this power of eloquence is," says Cicero (De Or. iii. 14), " the more strongly does it need to be supported by probity and the greatest prudence ; if you give fluency of speech to a man destitute of these virtues you will not so much have made an orator as have put a sword in the hands of a madman.V " If the power of creation," remarks J. Q. Adams, "could be delegated to mortal hands, and we could make an orator as a sculptor moulds a statue, the first material we should employ for the composition would be integrity of heart. The reason why this quality becomes so essential is that it forms the basis of the hearer's confidence, without which no eloquence can operate upon his belief." This is a reason, but not the chief reason. 26 Moral Virtues. 27 / 22. 2. Temperance — i.e., habitual moderation with regard to the natural appetites. To this Blair refers when he says : ^^othing is so favorable as virtue to the prosecution of honorable studies. It prompts a generous emulation to ex- cel ; it leaves the mind vacant and free, master of itself, disencumbered of those bad passions and disengaged from those mean pursuits which have ever been found the great- est enemies to true proficiency." And he quotes these words of Quintilian : " If the management of an estate, if anxious attention to domestic economy, a passion for hunting, or whole days given up to public places of amuse- ments, consume so much time that is due to study, how much greater waste must be occasioned by licentious de- sires, avarice, or envy ! Nothing is so much hurried and agitated, so contradictory to itself, or so violently torn and shattered by conflicting passions as a bad heart. Amidst the distractions which it produces what room is left for the cultivation of letters or the pursuit of any honorable art ? No more, assuredly, than there is for the growth of corn in J Id that is overrun with thorns and brambles." [. 3. Public spirit, or love of country and the high- nterests of society. " On all great subjects and occa- sions there is a dignity, there is an energy in noble senti- ments which is overcoming and irresistible. £. They give an /ardor and a flame to one's discourse which seldom fails to \ kindle a like flame in those who hear, and which, more than any other cause, bestows on eloquence that power, for which it is famed, of seizing and transporting an audience. Here art and imitation will not avail. An assumed char- acter conveys none of this powerful warmth. It is only a native and unaffected glow of feeling which can transmit the emotion to others. Hence the most renowned orators, such as Cicero and Demosthenes, were no less distin- guished for some of the high virtues, as public spirit 28 Sources of Success in Oratory. and zeal for their country, than for eloquence. Beyond doubt to these virtues their eloquence owed much of its effect ; and those orations of theirs in which there breathes most of the virtuous and magnanimous spirit are those which have most attracted the admiration of ages " (Blair, Lect. xxxiv.) 24. When we mention love of country among the virtues of an orator we do not mean that utilitarianism which looks only to the advantages of the present hour. The an- cient orators often maintained that virtue practised for its own sake is the highest interest of society, as Plutarch teaches when he says (Life of Demosthenes) : " Panatius, the philosopher, asserts that most of Demosthenes' orations are written upon this principle, that virtue is to be chosen for her own sake only ; e.g., the oration on the Crown, that against Aristocrates, that for the Immunities, and the Philippics. In all these orations Demosthenes does not exhort his countrymen to that which is most agreeable or easy or advantageous, but he points out honor and propriety as the first objects, and leaves the safety of the state as a matter of inferior consideration." This conduct of Demos- thenes placed his popularity above the reach of fickle for- tune, so that when the battle of Chaeronea was lost " the people," says Plutarch, " not only acquitted him, but treated him with the same respect as before, and called him to the helm again as a person whom they knew to be a well-wisher of his country." \__25. 4. Compassion _for_the unfortunate. "Joined with the manly virtues he should at~the same time possess strong and tender sensibility to all the injuries, distresses, and sorrows of his fellow-creatures ; a heart that can easily relent, that can readily enter into the circumstances of others, and can make their case his own " (Blair, xxxiv.) The influence and power which every appearance of public Moral Virtues, 29 spirit and compassion for the unfortunate imparts to a man who is thought by his hearers to possess these virtues are strikingly exhibited in the case even of unprincipled dema- gogues, such as a Garibaldi, a Mazzini, and the orators of the Reign of Terror in France. Men like these exert a pow- erful influence over their followers. Still it is well to re- mark that they cannot be called orators in the true sense of the word, for we must estimate an orator's greatness by the admirable effects which he produces. Now, such speakers produce nothing admirable ; their work is destruction, and their path is strewn with the ruins of all that is most noble and precious. Instead of raising the people above self- interest, as Demosthenes did, they debase their hearers by" strengthening their selfish inclinations. 26. ^^Beflfiioleiice. " It is the most captivating of all human qualities, for it recommends itself to the selfish pas- sions of every individual. Benevolence is a disposition of the heart universal in its nature, and every single hearer imagines that temper to be kindly affected towards himself which is known to be« actuated by good-will to all. It is the general impulse of human nature to return kindness with kindness, and the speaker whose auditory, at the in- stant of his first address, believes him inspired with a warm benevolence for them, has already more than half obtained his end " (Adams, Lect. xv.) 27. 6. '^JJfldeaty is a kindred virtue to benevolence, and possesses a similar charm over the hearts of men. Modesty always obtains _t he mon^precisely because it_a sks nothing. Modesty lulls alPtKelrritable passions to sleep. It often disarms, and scarcely ever provokes, opposition. These qualities are so congenial to the best feelings of mankind that they can never be too assiduously cultivated. In them there is no contradiction. If they do not always succeed, they never totally fail. They neutralize malice, they baffle 30 Sources of Success in Oratory. envy ; they relax the very brow of hatred and soften the features of scorn into a smile. But the purest of virtues border upon pernicious failings. Let your benevolence never degenerate into weakness, nor your modesty into bashfulness " (ib.) I 28. 7. " A decent C onfidenc e is among the most indis- pensable qualifications of an accomplished orator. Arro- gance stimulates resentment ; vanity opens to derision ; but a mild and determined intrepidity, unabashed by fear, unintimidated by the noise and turbulence of a popular assembly, unawed by the rank or dignity of an auditory, must be acquired by every public speaker aspiring to high distinction. It is as necessaiy to command the respect as to conciliate the kindness of your hearers " (ib.) 29. 8. " This decent and respectful confidence is but a natural result of the perfect and unalterable self-command- which, though last, is far, very far, from being the least ingredient in the composition of an accomplished orator. If it be true of mankind in general that he who ruleth his spirit is greater than he that taketh a city, to no descrip- tion of human beings can this pre-eminence of self-dominion be so emphatically ascribed as to the public speaker. . . When the ebullitions of passion burst in peevish crimina- tion of the audience themselves, when a speaker sallies forth armed with insult and outrage for his instruments of persuasion, you may be assured that this quixotism of rhetoric must eventually terminate like all other modern knight-errantry, and that the fury must always be succeeded by the impotence of the passions " (ib.) 30. 9. To these virtues we may add, with Blair, a habit- of a pplic ation and Jjadustry : " It is not by starts of appli- cation, or by a Few years' preparation of study afterwards discontinued, that eminence can be attained. No ; it can be attained only by means of regular industry, grown into Moral Virtues. 31 a habit, and ready to be exerted on every occasion that calls for industry. This is a fixed law of our nature, and he must have a high opinion of his own genius indeed that can believe himself an exception to it. . . . Nothing is so great an enemy both to honorable attainments and to the real, to the brisk and spirited enjoyment of life, as that relaxed state of mind which arises from indolence and dis- sipation. One that is destined to excel in any art, es- pecially in the art of speaking and writing, will be known by this more than by any other mark whatever : an enthu- siasm for that art — an enthusiasm which, firing his mind with the object he has in view, will dispose him to relish every labor which the means require." CHAPTER III. KNOWLEDGE. 31. Having spoken of the natural powers of an orator and of his moral virtues, we shall add a few remarks about the knowledge which he should possess. And, first, he will need a clear and full knowle dge o f t he particular, pro fessi on in which his oratorical efforts are to be exerted. If he be a lawyer, let him have a thorough knowledge of the law ; if a divine, let him be a deep theo- logian ; if a statesman, let him be well acquainted with all that concerns the prosperity of nations, particularly of his own country, with its wants, its resources, etc. 32. In addition to this special knowledge every orator needs a considerable amount of general knowledge^ In fact, Cicero insists that omnibus disciplinis et artibus^debet esse instructus orator— ■" An orator shoulcTbe versed in all the branches of learning." By this he means that he should at least have received a liberal education, embrac- ing the thorough study of language, history, philosophy, and a certain familiarity with the finest productions of poetry and with the general circle of polite literature. ^--33. Almost all the great speakers who have reflected so much honor on the English language were classicaljicho- lars, who from boyhood had developed all their powers of mind by a liberal education, and, of course, had studied the masterpieces of ancient oratory in their original tongues. " Burke, Chatham, Fox, and Pitt," says Chauncey A. Good- rich in his Introduction to British Eloquence, " stand, by 3 2 Knowledge. 33 universal consent, at the head of our eloquence." Now, all these were eminent for classical attainments. Our own Daniel Webster and Calhoun had richly profited by the advantages of a classical education ; and they are un- doubtedly our greatest orators. For of Webster the judg- ment passed on him by Lowndes has been generally ac- cepted, that " the North had not his equal, nor the South his superior,'' and Calhoun was his rival in the South. 34. Of the knowledge of history Cicero says : " Do you not perceive how far history is the business of an orator ? I doubt if it be not his principal business/' " The orator," observes Quintilian, " ought to furnish himself with a great number of examples, as well ancient as modern, and there- fore ought not only to be acquainted with the records of history, with traditions, and with the events of the day, but he should not neglect even the fictions of the more cele- brated poets " (xii. 4). " History," says Dionysius of Hali- carnassus, " is philosophy teaching by example." Now, example is universally acknowledged to be more efficacious than precept. The great orator and statesman Edmund Burke owed much of his success to his historical knowl- edge. 35. As to philosophy, two of its departments — viz., logic and ethics — are indispensable to an orator ; the former " to forge the weapons which oratory is to wield," the latter to guide the statesman and the lawyer, and even the divine, in the studies of their respective professions. For, as J. Q. Adams notices (Lect. xv.), " a truly virtuous orator must have an accurate knowledge of the duties incident to man in a state of civil society. He must have formed a cor- rect estimate of good and evil ; a moral sense which in demonstrative discourse will direct him with the instanta- neous impulse of intuition to the true sources of honor and shame ; in judicial controversy, to those of justice ; in de- 3+ Sources of Success in Oratory. liberation, to the path of real utility ; in the pulpit, to all the wisdom of man and all that the revelation of heaven have imparted of light for the pursuit of temporal or eter- nal felicity." 36. Familiarity with the finest productions of poetry and with the general circle of polite literature, and especially with the most perfect specimens of ancient and modern oratory, is indispensable to a perfect orator. Hume has somewhere remarked that " he who would teach eloquence must do it chiefly by examples." Without these, precepts would be almost powerless ; and universal practice has sanctioned the reading of Demosthenes' and Cicero's ora- tions in colleges as one of the most direct preparations for an oratorical career. Likewise the most excellent orations of modern orators should be carefully studied, and even their more familiar business speeches will be read with much profit. 37. In a word, "The orator," says Cicero, "must have a forest of materials and thoughts. . . . Indeed, it is my opinion that within the province of an orator everything falls that belongs to the advantage of his countrymen and the manners of various nations, whatever regards the habits of life and the conduct of governments, civil so- ciety and the public feeling, the laws of nature and the morals of mankind. Though he is not obliged to answer distinctly, like a philosopher, on those subjects, he should at least be competent to interweave them dexterously into his oration on the cause at issue ; he ought to be able to speak on such topics in the same manner as the men who founded laws, statutes, and states, in a plain, straightforward manner, with luminous perspicuity, with- out metaphysical disputation, and without dry or profitless cavilling." 38. To induce young men to strive after the highest per- Knowledge. 35 fection of the ideal orator, such as Cicero conceived him, J. Q. Adams, at the end of his fourth lecture, thus ad- dresses the Sophomores in Harvard University: " To what- ever occupation your future inclinations or destinies may direct you, that pursuit of, ideal-excellence which consti- tuted the plan of Cicero's orator and the principle of Cicero's life, if profoundly meditated and sincerely adopt- ed, will prove a never-failing source of virtue and of hap- piness. ... It must be the steady purpose of a life, ma- turely considered, deliberately undertaken, and inflexibly pursued through all the struggles of human opposition and all the vicissitudes of fortune. It must mark the mea- sure of your duties in the relations of domestic, of social, and of public life ; must guard from presumption your rapid moments of prosperity, and nerve with fortitude your lingering hours of misfortune. It must mingle with you in the busy murmurs of the city, and retire in silence with you to the shades of solitude. Like hope, it must ' travel through, nor quit you when you die ' — your guide amid the dissipations of youth, your counsellor in the toils of manhood, your companion in the leisure of declining age. It must, it will, irradiate the darkness of dissolution, will identify the consciousness of the past with the hope of futurity, will smooth the passage from this to a better world, and link the last pangs of expiring nature with the first xapture of never-ending joy." BOOK II. ON THE INVENTION OF THOUGHT. 39. " The power of eloquence can never appear," says Cicero (De Or. i. 11), "but when the orator is a complete masterj>f his subjfifiLIl — Now, it is the aim of the following 'precepts on Invention to aid the orator in " mastering his subject." Hence their importance. " Invention," says Blair (Lect. xxxi.), " is without doubt the most material and the groundwork of the rest." " But with respect to this," he adds, " I am afraid it is beyond the power of art to give any real assistance." It would, indeed, be a great pity if art were so powerless with regard to what is ac- knowledged to be the most important task of an orator. Happily, however, such minds as Aristotle, Cicero, and Quintilian among the ancients, and many of the greatest rhetoricians among the moderns, judge differently from Dr. Blair. We shall attempt to follow their teachings, both on account of the authority which their writings carry with them, and because the experience of many years devoted to the teaching of rhetoric has convinced us that the study of invention is most efficacious in developing the minds of the young and making them prefer solid thought to idle declamation. The absence of such precepts from the Lectures of Dr. Blair greatly impairs the value of a work so admirable in many other respects, and we are not sur- prised to hear Macaulay designate Blair as a superficial 36 On the Invention of Thought. 37 critic, which epithet applies to him chiefly on account of this very omission. , 40. We shall divide this book on Invention into the following chapters : 1. A General View of the Intend- ed Speech ; 2. Sources of Thought ; 3. Intrinsic Topics ; 4. Extrinsic Topics ; 5. Topics of Persons and Moral Topics ; 6. Use of the Topics ; 7. An Example for Prac- tice. CHAPTER I. A GENERAL VIEW OF THE INTENDED SPEECH. 41. Before we proceed to search for thoughts on any- subject or matter it is necessary to fix the following points clearly in our minds. / 1. What is the subject on which we are preparing to speak ? Thus, when William Pitt spoke on the abolition of the slave-trade, his subject was the Slave-Trade, not Slavery ; this latter would be a very different matter. 42. 2. What quesiiott~is to be answered about the sub- ject? In the example just mentioned the question was, Whether the slave-trade should be immediately abolished ? For such abolition was the motion then before the House of Commons, and in support of it Pitt delivered his fa- mous speech, " one of the ablest pieces of mingled argu- ment and eloquence which he ever produced," as Chaun- cey A. Goodrich remarks in his British Eloquence (p. 579). To mistake the subject or the question is a disgraceful fault called ignoratio elenchi — i.e., missing the point. For instance, such a mistake was the cause of much misrepre- sentation and useless ill-feeling at the time of the late Vatican Council, when many leading journalists inveighed so vehemently against the infallibility of the Pope. They mistook it for the impeccability of the Pope, and thus confounded a solemn teaching of the Catholic Church with an error which no Catholic believes. 43. 3. What is the end inten ded in the speech, or what does the speaker hope to accomplish ? For instance, does 38 A General View of the Intended Speech. 39 he aim chiefly at convincing the minds of his hearers ? or does he rather aim at controlling their wills ? or does he wish mainly to please ? Thus Webster in his two speeches at the Bunker Hill Monument aimed at pleasing, in his speech in Knapp's trial at convincing, in that on the Pre- sidential .Protest at convincing and persuading. To aim chiefly at display or pleasure, when there is a more serious task before us, would incur only the contempt of sensible men. Besides, we must not forget what Cicero remarks {De Orat. ii. 77): "While we bring others to our oprffion '"by three means, by explaining, by conciliating, and by moy r ing, we must ever pretend to do but one thing — i.e., we must appear to aim at nothing but explanation ; the other two must permeate the parts of an oration as the blood permeates the body." Certainly it would be improper to tell our hearers that we are going to please or to move them ; but no sensible man can object to have the matter explained to him and proofs presented to convince his mind. 44. 4. What is the exact state oX_the--(jaesJ;ion— i.e., what is the precise point on which the parties differ, or on the decision of which the success of the speech will chiefly depend ? This is also called placing_th«jinestion. on itsjrjTojjer^^fogting, and it is of especial importance in argumentative speeches. In doing this properly the ability of a lawyer or the skill of a debater will often appear to the greatest advantage. Thus in Daniel Web- ster's speech in the Dartmouth College case the gene- ral question was, whether certain acts of the Legisla- ture of New Hampshire " were valid and binding on the plaintiffs, without their acceptance or assent"? The decision of this question Webster causes to turn on this particular point : Whether or not the former trustees had obtained vested rights as sacred as the rights of private pro~ 40 On the Invention of Thought. perty ? If they had, no Legislature could violate them ; and he maintained that they had. His opponents had to maintain either that such was not the fact or that the decision did not depend on this precise point. 45. 5. What are the presirmgtigns in the case — i.e., what may be taken for granted until it is disproved ? The following are some of the principal presumptions, com- mon to many subjects : (a) In a criminal case the accused party is presumed innocent until his guilt is proved. This throws the bur- den of proof on the accuser ; it is enough for the de- fence to show that the proofs adduced by the prosecu- tion are not conclusive, no matter how plausible. (6) In civil claims the presumption is in favor of the actual possessor — i.e., the one who holds actual posses- sion need not produce his title till he who wishes to eject him has proved a legal claim ; if a doubt remains as to the validity of this claim the present occupant re- mains in possession. (c) Legal documents must be supposed to be genuine till they are proved to be counterfeit. (d) In legislation no new law should be made till it is shown to be an improvement. (e) Uncertain laws do not bind — i.e., our liberty is not to be hampered by a law whose existence is doubtful. (/) What is .known -to have been done must be pre- sumed to have been validly done ; e.g., title-deeds, writs issued by officials, are supposed to be valid, unless there is positive proof to the contrary. (f) The presumption is in favor of morality and the common good ; thus the presumption is against infidel speculations, since these debase man and loosen the bonds of society by removing the highest sanction of the natural law. A General View of the Intended Speech. 4 1 (It) The presumption is in favor of what .exists and against a change ; thus even the Redeemer, when he came to put an end to Judaism, proved his divine mission by manifest miracles. 46. The various distinctions of subject, end, question, and state of the question are treated by J. Q. Adams under the one name of state of the controversy. His treatment of this matter appears to us so excellent that we shall be excused if we quote him here at some length. " The first and most important of these (essential par- ticulars)," he says (Lect. viii.), "is what the ancient rhe- toricians term the state of the controversy. ... A full and clear understanding of it, applied to the usages and manners of our own times, is one of the most important points in the whole science. ... It is the quod erat de- monstrandu7ti of the mathematicians. It is the mark at which all the speaker's discourse aims ; the focus to- wards which all the rays of his eloquence should con- verge ; and, of course, varies according to the nature and subject of the speech. In every public oration the speaker ought to have some specific point, to which, as to the goal of his career, all his discourse should be directed. In legislative or deliberative assemblies this is now usually called the question. In the courts of common law it is known as the issue. In polemical writings it is some- times called the point. In demonstrative discourses it is dilated into the general name of the subject j and in the pulpit the proper state is always contained in the preach- er's text. It therefore belongs to every class of public speaking, and is not confined to judicial or deliberative oratory, where alone you would, at first blush, suppose the term controversy could properly be applied. It is, indeed, probable that it first originated in judicial con- tests, where it always remained of most frequent use. To 42 On the Invention of Thought. the other classes it was transferred by analogy. Whoever speaks in public must have something to prove or to illustrate. Whatever the occasion or the subject may be, the purpose of the orator must be to convince or to move. Every speech is thus supposed to be founded upon some controversy, actual or implied. Conviction is the great purpose of eloquence, and this necessarily presupposes some resistance of feeling or of intellect upon which conviction is to operate." 47. "I told you that the state of the controversy was one of the most important points of consideration in the whole science of rhetoric. As I have explained it to you in its broadest acceptation, it is to the orator what the polar star is to the mariner. It is the end to which every word he utters ought directly or indirectly to be aimed ; and the whole art of speech consists in the per- fect understanding of this end, and the just adaptation of means to effect its accomplishment. This may, per- haps, appear to you to be so obvious and so trivial a truth as to require no illustration. And yet you will find throughout your lives, in the courts of law, in the legisla- ture, in the pulpit, nothing is so common as to see it forgotten. Our laws have found it necessary to provide that in town-meetings nothing shall be done by the in- habitants unless the subject or state of the controversy has been inserted in the warrant that calls them together. In all our legislative bodies rules of order are established for the purpose of confining the speakers to the subjects before them ; and certain forms even of phraseology are adopted, into which every question must be reduced. Yet even this is not sufficient to restrain the wandering propensities of debate. . . ." " The difficulties of ascertaining the true state are, in- deed, in all practical oratory, much greater than a slight A General View of the Intended Speech. 43 consideration would imagine. They arise principally from three sources, which, in the language of the science, are called co-ordinate, subordinate, and contingent states. 48. " 1. Cagrdinajff-stateB occur when there are more questions than one, which, separately taken and indepen- dent of all the rest, involve all the merits of the case. Such are the several charges of Cicero against Verres. Such are the impeachments of modern times, both in England and in our own country. Every article contains a co-ordinate state with all the rest ; and they may be met with distinct and separate answers to each charge or by one general answer to all. 49. "2. Subordinate states are questions distinct from the principal poirit7"controvertible in themselves and more or less important to its decision. .... In deliberative elo- quence you will find a remarkable instance of subordinate states, skilfully adapted to the main state, in Burke's speech on his proposal for conciliation between Great Britain and her then American colonies. His main state was the necessity of the conciliation. Why ? Because America could not be subdued by force. This is a sub- ordinate state. But the proof of his main position depend- ed entirely upon its demonstration ; and it was a truth so unwelcome to his audience that it was incumbent upon him to place every part of his argument beyond the power of cavil. The depth and extent of research, the adaman- tine logic, and the splendor of oratory with which he per- forms this task has, in my own opinion, no parallel in the records of modern deliberative eloquence. It was for wise and beneficent purposes that Providence suffered this ad- mirable speech to fail of conviction upon the sordid and venal souls to whom it was delivered. As a piece of elo- quence it has never been appreciated at half its value." (See the analysis of the oration below, Number 147.) 44 On the Invention of Thought. 50. "3. Incidental, states are questions arising occasion- ally, and more or less connected with the main question without being essential to it. They are common to every species of oratory, though of rarer use in the desk, where they generally partake of the nature of digressions. But in legislative assemblies every proposition for an amendment offered on a bill upon its passage, and at the bar every oc- casional motion for the postponement of a trial, the admis- sion of a witness, the disqualification of a juror, or the like, introduces an incidental question having some relation to the main state of the controversy. . . " 51. We shall conclude these extracts with this judicious remark of the same lecturer. Speaking of the state of the question, he says : " But it is also of high importance to the hearer of every public speaker. For although some of you may never intend to follow the practice of public speaking, yet you will all occasionally be hearers ; and, with your ad- vantages of education, all will be expected to be judges of the public orators. You have been justly told that there is an art of silent reading : the art of collecting the kernel from the shell, of selecting the wheat from the tares. Let me add — for it is only another modification of the same truth — that there is an art of hearing. And one of the most elaborate exercises is to ascertain the state of the public speaker's discourse." 52. Examples. We think it useful to exemplify such ex- ercises by applying the explanations of this chapter to some of the most renowned orations of the greatest orators. We shall begin with the Philippics of Demosthenes. Philip, King of Macedon, whom the Athenians at first despised as a barbarian upstart, had acquired considerable power. Partly by skilful intrigue, partly by energetic war-measures, he was constantly extending his dominions and baffling all the efforts of the Athenians to stop his progress through A General View of the Intended Speech. 4 5 Thessaly into Greece, which was weakened by intestine dissensions. In Athens itself there was a party of poli- ticians who favored his ambition. Demosthenes had made it the constant aim of his public life to defeat the crafty foe and his secret partisans. In several of his speeches, but especially in his three Philippics, the relations of Athens with Philip were the subject under consideration ; the ques- tion, which Adams would call the state of the controversy, was, whether they should adopt certain vigorous war mea- sures to oppose him ; but the state of the question, or what Adams would call the "subordinate state," was not always the same. In the first speech it is whether there is any use in adopting vigorous measures, or, in other words, whether there is any hope of success remaining. In the second and third Philippics the state of the question is, whether Philip is truly an enemy, as the orator maintains he is. " The sub- ject of this speech is simple," says Libanius, referring to the third oration ; " for while Philip spoke words of peace, but did many deeds of war, the orator advises the Atheni- ans to arise and punish the king, since a great danger threatened themselves as well as all the Greeks in com- mon." The end intended in each of the Philippics was to arouse his countrymen to adopt energetic measures. De- mosthenes did not, with the mass of Athenian orators, study to gratify the ear of a refined and fastidious audience by beautiful sentiments clothed in magnificent language ; but to convince and persuade was his great object, to which all other things were made subservient. 53. We shall next examine the speech of Cicero for Milo. Milo, a candidate for the consulship in Rome, and a leader of the conservative party, while on an official journey, ac- companied by his wife and a numerous suite of retainers, had been met by his enemy, Clodius, a violent leader of the radical party, who was attended by a numerous body of 46 On the Invention of Thought. armed slaves. A quarrel arose and Clodius was slain. How far Milo contributed to this result we do not exactly know ; Asconius gives us one account of it and Cicero an- other. Cicero, who had formerly been driven from Rome by this same Clodius, undertook the defence. His speech on that occasion, as retouched afterwards and published by himself, is one of the most skilful specimens of pleading in existence. The matter, or subject, was the murder of Clo- dius. The question was not whether Milo killed Clodius, but whether he — or rather his slaves acting without his orders — killed the aggressor justly, /.»> anH Extrjjisic. The Intrinsic Topics are found in the matter itself which is treated of ; the Extrinsic exist out- side of it and independent of it. Aristotle called the former Artificial, because it requires art to find the arguments by means of them and bring them out of the nature of the sub- ject ; the latter he called Inartificial, because the arguments furnished by them are not to be skilfully made up by the orator, but exist already — such are deeds, written docu- ments, witnesses, authorities, oaths, etc. {De Orat. ii. 27). CHAPTER III. INTRINSIC TOPICS. 61. If any one be inclined to find fault with us for intro- ducing here a number of classifications, distinctions, and technical terms, we can only plead in our own defence that the same is done and must be done wherever accurate knowledge is aimed at, in rhetoric as well as in philosophy, in physics, and chemistry, or in the study of law and medi- cine. We are studying how to dissect a subject and examine all its parts. In this portion of our task we shall mostly follow in the footsteps of the distinguished modern philoso- pher and rhetorician, Rev. Joseph Kleutgen, S.J., who has treated this matter with equal brevity and clearness, 62. Examining with him, 1st, the Nature of the subject, we find in it these four topics, Definition, Enumeration, Genus, and Species j 2d, the Name of the subject, we find Notation and Conjugates ; 3d, its Relations to other things, we have Cause and Effect, Antecedents and Consequences, and Circumstances ; 4th, its Comparison with other things, we meet with Contrariety, Likeness, and Likelihood. More topics might be mentioned, but these are the principal of the intrinsic kind. On each of these we shall speak with some detail. Article I. Definition. 63. The ajesfigitfesi states in clear and exact language what is meant by the subject under consideration. This is Intrinsic Topics, 53 one of the most important topics. Many speeches are vague and ineffectual because the speaker has taken no pains to define his subject clearly to his own mind and to the minds of his audience. Often a debate or a case before a court of justice is gained by a clear definition. 64. As an example of this we may adduce the masterly plea of Erskine in behalf of Lord Gordon. " Lord George Gordon," says C. A. Goodrich {British Eloquence), "a member of the House of Commons, was a young Scottish nobleman of weak intellect and enthusiastic feelings. He had been chosen president of the Protestant Association, whose object was to procure the repeal of Sir George Sa- ville's bill in favor of the Catholics. In this capacity he directed the association to meet him in St. George's Fields, and to proceed thence to the Parliament House with a peti- tion for the repeal of the bill. Accordingly about forty thousand persons of the middle classes assembled on Fri- day, the 2d of June, 1780, and, after forming a procession, moved forward till they blocked up all the avenues to the House of Commons. " Lord Gordon presented the petition, but the House re- fused to consider it at that time by a vote of 192 to 6. The multitude now became disorderly, and, after the House adjourned, bodies of men proceeded to demolish the Ca- tholic chapels at the residences of the foreign ministers. From this moment the whole affair changed its character. Desperate men, many of them thieves and robbers, took the lead. Not only were Catholic chapels set on fire, but the London prisons were broken open and destroyed ; the town was for some days completely in the power of the multitude. " When order was at last restored the magistrates, as is common with those who have neglected their duty, endea- vored to throw the blame on others — they resolved to make 54 On the Invention of Thought. Lord George Gordon the scape-goat. He was accordingly- arraigned for high treason ; and such was the excitement of the public mind, such the eagerness to have some one pun- ished, that he was in imminent danger of being made the victim of public resentment." Kenyon, his senior counsel, had failed in his defence. 65. Erskine, then a young man, saved him by laying down a clear and correct definition of High Treason, which was the indictment against him. He proved that the crime of high treason, in the only meaning in which it could apply to the case, supposed premeditated open acts of vio- lence, hostility, and force; and he was able to show from copious testimonies that such premeditated open acts were totally foreign to the mind of his client. The whole speech is worthy of careful study. Lord Campbell is enthusiastic in its praise. "Here I find," he says, "not only great acute- ness, powerful reasoning, enthusiastic zeal, and burning eloquence, but the most masterly view ever given of the English law of high treason, the foundation of all our liberties." 66. A speaker should strive to find or make up such defi- nitions as even his adversaries cannot refuse to accept. A lawyer will properly draw his definitions from Blackstone, Kent, etc. For ordinary purposes our great lexicographers, Webster and Worcester, are usually good authorities. It may not be amiss, however, to remark that abstract philo- sophical terms, and in general all words relating to matters about which the English mind is less solicitous, are often very imperfectly defined in these works. There is, perhaps, no class of terms with regard to which this defect is more striking than such as are connected with the Catholic re- ligion, its rites and ceremonies. (See an article on this subject in the American Catholic Review for April, 1880.) For such matters the Catholic Dictionary of Addis and Intrinsic Topics. 55 Arnold may be relied on as furnishing correct defini- tions. 67. When the orator prepares his own definition he may do so philosophically or oratorically. A p hilosophic al definition gives the genus, or class, to which the subject be- longs, and, along with the genus, it states the specific differ- ence — i.e., the peculiar property or properties by which this subject is distinguished from the other species of the same genus. For instance, " Painting is the fine art which ex- presses the beautiful by means of colors ; music is the fine art which expresses the beautiful by means of sound." The genus is "fine art" — i.e., an art intended to express the beautiful. One fine art differs from another in the method of expressing the beautiful : painting expresses it by means of color, music by means of sound ; color and sound, then, are the specific difference. 68. The oratprical-4efinition aims more at effect than at strictness of meaning or exactness of expression. The Grammar of Eloquence presents the teachings of rhetori- cians on this subject as follows : An oratorical definition or description is made in six ways: 1. By enumerating the parts of which it is composed, as, \Oratory is an art which consists of invention, arrange- -meiit, style, and delivery." 2TBy effects; as when sin is defined "the pest of the soul, the stain of conscience, the destroyer of spiritual life, the dishonor of human nature, the ruin of the world." 3. By a ffirma tion. St. John • Chrysostom thus defined the Cross of Christ: "The Cross of Christ is the way to the wandering, the guide to heaven, the hope of those who suffer injury, the bridle of the rich, the army which op- poses the proud, the death of a voluptuous life, a rudder to the seafaring, a haven to the shipwrecked, an asylum to all the world." V c 56 On the Invention of Thought. 4. By negation. Such a definition declares what a thing is not, that we may the better know what it is. Af- firmation and negation are sometimes united. Thus Cjceitj"' /describes Verres : " We have brought before your tribunal, not a thief, but a robber ; not a sacrilegious wretch, but an open enemy to all that is sacred and religious ; not an ' assassin, but the most cruel butcher of our citizens and our allies.'' 5. By adjjoncts_prjcircumstances. Of this we can ad- duce no finer example than that quoted by J. Q. Adams (Lect. ix.) He says: " Thus, in the funeral oration of Turenne by Flechier, the orator, to display with greater force the combination of talents required for commanding an army, resorts to an oratorical definition. ' What,' says he — ' what is an army ? An army is a body agitated by an infinite variety of passions, directed by an able man to the defence of his country. It is a multitude of armed men blindly obedient to the orders of a commander and totally ignorant of his designs ; an assembly of base and merce- nary souls for the most part, toiling for the fame of kings and conquerors, regardless of their own ; a motley mass of libertines to keep in order, of cowards to lead into battle, of profligates to restrain, of mutineers to control.' " 6. By comparisons and me tapho rs. Plutarch defines beauty thus: "A bland enemy, a pleasant ravisher, a de- ceitful torturer, a snare to our feet, a veil to our eyes. ' Article II. Enumeration. 69. This topic furnishes an abundance of striking, and often most appropriate, arguments. En umerati on examines separately and in detail, or passes rapidly in review, the various parts of a subject. " The letters of Junius," says J. Q_. Adams, " ranking in the very first line of elo- Intrinsic Topics. 5 7 quence, but far lower in moral and political wisdom, make frequent use of enumeration. His first letter, for instance, contains an enumeration of the high offices of state which composed the administration, with a commen- tary to prove that they were all held by weak and worth- less men. In his address to the king he asks him on what part of his subjects he could rely for support if the people of England should revolt ; and then answers by enumerat- ing all the other classes of people then composing the British Empire, and proving that he could depend upon none of them" (Lect. ix.) A similar example is found in the peroration of Edmund 'Burke's opening speech at the trial of Warren Hastings. 70. Enumeration is well suited to open up vast fields of thought on many subjects. Thus Rev. Thomas N. Burke, O.P., enters on his lecture entitled " The Catholic Church the Salvation of Society " with a happy enumeration, say- ing : " We may analyze society, as I intend to view it, from an intellectual standpoint. Then we shall see the society of learning, the society of art and literature. Or we may view it from a moral standpoint. . . . What has this so- ciety produced intellectually, morally, and politically ? " 71. As the parts of a whole subject may be separately considered, so may lesser divisions be more rapidly enu- merated with happy, and often with brilliant, effect. We find mental greatness thus presented : " These sights are grand, whether we behold them in the philosopher, fathom- ing the depths of mind ; in the geologist, quarrying out science from the rock and the fossil ; or in the chemist, deducing the laws of life and death from the crucible and laboratory — whether we see them in the artist, busied in the magnificent creations of the chisel and the pencil ; or in the poet, entering into the treasure-house of imagina- tion and stringing those rosaries of thought, the jewelled 58 On the Invention of Thought. epic and the sparkling song ; or in the astronomer, soaring to the planets, measuring their paths, weighing their mass, and calling them by their names. But, after all, what is it ? A few systems, a few poems, a few discoveries, the writing of a few names in rubies — and that is all of men- tal greatness " (Dr. Stephens). In a similarly glowing style Cicero, on the Manilian Law, advocating the appointment of Pompey to direct the war against Mithridates, enume- rates the countries over which Pompey had already passed in his rapid conquests. Article III. Genus and Species. 72. In rhetoric a general proposition is called a thesis, as, " Poets deserve praise " ; a particular proposition is called a h ypothesi s, as, " Virgil is an excellent poet." Now, it often happens that a speaker, while treating a the- sis, will find it useful to dwell for a while on some special hypothesis, usually in illustration of his thesis. He is then said to draw an argument from the topic of Species. For instance, in Thomson's " Seasons " the poet, describing the effects of heat in the torrid zone, refers thus to the particu- lar pestilence which destroyed the English fleet at Cartha- gena under Admiral Vernon : " You, gallant Vernon, saw The miserable scene ; you pitying saw To infant weakness sunk the warrior's arm Saw the deep-racking pang, the ghastly form, The lip pale quivering, and the beamless eye No more with ardor bright. You heard the groans Of agonizing ships from shore to shore ; Heard nightly plunged, amid the sullen waves, The frequent corse," etc. Thus, too, Lord Brougham, in his inaugural discourse, Intrinsic Topics. 59 turns from his general theme, which is the praise of elo- quence, to extol the merit of Demosthenes, Cicero, etc. 73. On the other hand, when dealing with a hypothesis the orator may speak of the whole class or genus to which his subject belongs. He then draws an argument from the topic of Genus. " These, topics are often employed," says J. Q. Adams, " in argumentative oratory, and the speaker's talent is discerned in the art with which he descends from a general to a special proposition, or ascends from the spe- cial to the general." 74. The most familiar example of the topic of jjenus is that passage of Cicero's oration for the poet Archias in which he ascends from the praise of his client to the praise, of poets and poetry in general, rightly judging that what- ever honors poets in general honors Archias in particular; For, even in the strictest reasoning, whatever can be predi^ cated of a whole class can be predicated of each species and individual of that class. 75. But the reverse of this does not hold : it is a fallacy to reason from a portion or an individual to a whole class. Scientists are guilty of this sophistry when upon some par- ticular observations they build up a general theory and call it a scientific conclusion. For instance, Sir Charles Lyell, calculating the annual increase of the alluvium at the Delta of the Nile, allows thirty thousand years for the formation of the deposit. But Lyell, to justify his calcu- lation, should prove that in former times the deposit was not more rapidly formed than at present. His fallacy con- sists in deducing from the rate of deposit at one time the same rate of deposit at all times. This is fallacious rea- soning. In further illustration of this fallacy we may, with J. Q. Adams, quote an epigram of Prior ; 60 On the Invention e Hcrxiod or pr a-t^rri " (Lect. xxxii.) Hence they are especially useful for what is called Demonstrative Oratory, which is chiefly employed in praising and blaming. But as passages containing praise or blame may, to some extent, find an appropriate place in any other species of oratory, we treat of the Topics of Persons in this place among the general topics. Quintilian, in fact, considers them before he treats of any other source of arguments. 120. The following are the principal : 1. Birth. It is honorable to be of a good family, and not less honorable to have risen from an humble parentage to high dis- tinction by one's personal qualities and exertions. 2. Nation or country. All nations have their peculiar 82 On the Invention of Thought. characters and manners, laws and usages, influencing the life of their citizens. 3. Sex . Some acts are more probable, some are more heroic, in one sex than in another ; as when, among the early Christians, a St. Agnes, a St. Cecilia, or a St. Cathe- rine baffled the combined power and cruelty of their per- secutors. 4. Age. Wisdom is more surprising in a youth than in an aged man, and faults are less excusable in riper years : we do not expect of young Telemachus the maturity of aged Mentor. 5. Education and discipline. From the perfection or defect of these, certain results may be validly presumed, or at least they are made less improbable. 6. Habit of body. A Thersites in form is not apt to be a Cicero in mind or character. 7. Fortune. The parsimony that might grace a Cincin- nati might disgrace a Croesus. 8. Condition or station. It makes a great difference to a jury whether a witness be a professional man or a coun- try lad, a relative or a stranger to the accused ; as is well exemplified in the comments of Webster on the testimony of Knapp's father in the trial of the son. 9. Passions or inclinations. A man's known character for justice or injustice, for avarice or extravagance, for mercy or cruelty, for good or bad principles, often deter- mines belief or disbelief in acts attributed to him. 10. The way of jiv i ng , Thus a person without any known means of self-support is more readily suspected of petty larceny than a wealthy banker. 11. Profession or oc cupati on. A soldier, a merchant, and a lawyer will not make the same impression upon a jury. Moral Topics and Topics of Persons. 83 12. P ower, iii flnesce r -elo<||Jienc£ fc _ or reputat ion. All of these may create presumptions of probable consequences, or they may suggest titles to general esteem. Such applications of these topics as are peculiar to pane- gyrics will be considered in their proper place under De- monstrative Oratory (b. vi. c. iii. 2). CHAPTER VI. USE OF THE TOPICS. 121. We have elsewhere quoted J. Q. Adams as remark- ing of the topics that these things are peculiarly liable to be abused. It is, therefore, necessary to lay down careful di- rections for the employment of such oratorical resources. 122. And first we must remind the student that these topics are not supposed to dispense with talent or extensive knowledge. " But these Common-Places," says Cicero {De , Or., ii. 30), " can be of use to that orator only who is skilled in business, either by the practice which riper age supplies or by that diligence in listening and thinking which anticipates maturity of years. For if you bring me a man who is a stranger to the customs of our city, to the examples, the laws, the manners, and the predilections of our citizens, no matter how ready a speaker he may be, these topics will be of little use to him for the inven- tion of arguments." 123. Besides, no one should imagine that the topics dispense ^with diligence. " Art will only show you where to search, and where that lies which you are anxious to find ; the rest depends on care, attention, reflection, watchfulness, assi- duity, labor — in a word, as I have repeatedly said, on dili- gence " {De Or., ii. 35). 1 24. We shall now give a few practical rules for the use of the topics : Rule 1. A beginner should on every subject apply all the topics ; a practised speaker, especially if he has been trained to this process, will turn at once to those which are most directly fitted to his present purpose. 84 Use of the Topics. 85 Rule 2. Of the arguments thus discovered we should reject: (a) All trivial ones, as they make the cause appear weak ; (o) Those not strictly to the point, as only fit for de- clamation ; (c) Incorrect and inconclusive ones, as being un- worthy of us ; besides, being readily refuted, they create a prejudice against our cause ; (d) Such as are sound, but too hard to handle successfully, either because they require rea- soning t<5o subtle for the audience, or because they awak- en too much prejudice, or ill become our person, age, con- dition, or talent. Rule 3. Among the substantial arguments left we should select the best, being more solicitous to present weighty proofs than to display a long array of speculations: Non numeranda, sed ponderanda — " Arguments are not to be valued by number but by weight," says the proverb. We should also remember that the argument which is best in itself may not be best before the present audience in their present mood and their present circumstances, lest it be said of us, as of Edmund Burke : " He kept on refining, Thought of convincing, while they thought of dining." Rule 4. Weak arguments, if used at all, should be accu- mulated or passed over lightly, as not needed but only in- dicative of what might be said ; thus they are apt to make a favorable impression, as if the speaker had an abundance of proofs in reserve. 125. Of this judicious selection of thoughts we may add a few examples : 1. Demosthenes, while anxious to reanimate the con- fidence of the Athenians in the First Philippic, confines himself to these topics : (A) Cause: " The only cause of your prostration lies in your indolence." 86 On the Invention of Thought. (B) Antecedents : "You conquered formerly by your activity, and Philip became victorious by his activity." (C) Effects: "As soon as you begin earnestly many cities will join you ; while if you remain inactive no one will begin." 126. 2. William Pitt, in his speech On the Abolition of the Slave-Trade, dwells chiefly on these topics : {A) The abolition is expedient ; (B) It is just ; (C) The continuance of the trade is unjust. To prove the first point he examines the probable effects of abolition ; in the second he argues that the effects will violate no vested rights ; to prove the third he considers the causes and the circumstances of the slave-trade. 127. When the topics are applied according to the pre- cepts and explanations so far given, there is evidently no danger of the abuse which Blair condemns in his thirty- second lecture, saying : " One who had no other aim but to talk copiously and plausibly, by consulting them (the top- ics) on every subject, and laying hold of all that they sug- gested, might discourse without end ; and that, too, though he had none but the most superficial knowledge of his sub- ject. But such discourses could be no other than trivial." He adds very correctly : " What is truly solid and per- suasive must be drawn ex visceribus causa — from a thorough knowledge of the subject and profound meditation on it." This is just the point : what more thorough knowledge can L^ had of any subject than that which embraces a clear and correct definition of it, a study of all its parts, of its causes and effects, its circumstances, its likeness and points of opposition with other things — in a word, of all that the topics direct us to investigate ? We can scarcely imagine that so judicious an author as Dr. Blair could have failed to set a high value on the Common-Places, if he had ex- amined them with the diligence which they deserve. Use of the Topics. 87 128. There is no discourse of considerable merit which is not a proof of the applicability of these topics. Blair's own lectures are illustrations of this. Thus, if we sim- ply consult the brief analysis appended to each lecture, we shall find that the author usually considers the definition of each subject, enumerates its parts or species, traces its causes and its effects, etc. ; e.g., in Lecture iv. he examines : 1. The meaning or definition of the sublime ; 2. Its foun- dation or chief cause ; 3. Examples of it ; 4. Its nature or essential requisites; 5. Its sources or special causes; 6. The faults opposed or contrary to it. 129. Lastly, we must observe that the topics do not dis- pense us from reading for information on the subject : no one pretends that they are all-sufficient of themselves. On the contrary, one who applies them to any subject will, by means of them, soon find out what points are not sufficient- ly clear to him, and he will thus be directed by the topics in his reading and consultation. For instance, should one undertake to write a discourse on so familiar a theme as liberty, he is apt soon to find out, perhaps to his own sur- prise, that his ideas on the very nature or definition of liberty are rather vague, and that he needs to consult Blackstone or some other author to clear or to inform his mind. 130. There are even occasions when a speaker knows so little about his intended subject that he finds it neces- sary to begin at once to read on the matter before apply- ing the topics at all. Such reading for information is called by Rev. M. Bautain {Art of Extempore Speaking') the indirect method of studying a subject — the applica- tion of the topics being the direct method, superior to the other. When we thus attempt to read on a subject it is not usually from orations that we are to derive our in- formation on the given matter ; but whatever we may read. 88 On the Invention of Thought. we shall be benefited by observing the following directions taken from the work just quoted (English translation) : 131. "Always read pencil in hand. Mark the parts which most strike you, those in which you perceive the germ of an idea or of anything new to you. Then when you have finished your reading make a note ; let it be a substantial note, not a mere transcription or extract — a note embodying the very thought which you have appre- hended, and which you have already made your own by digestion and assimilation." 132. "Above all, let these notes be short and lucid ; put them down one under the other, so that you may after- wards be able to run over them at a single glance." 133. "Mistrust long readings from which you carry nothing away. Our mind is naturally so lazy, the labor of thought is so irksome to it, that it gladly yields to the pleasure of reading other people's thoughts in order to avoid the trouble of forming any itself ; and thus time passes in endless reading, the pretext of which is some hunt after materials, and which comes to nothing. The mind ruins its own sap and gets burdened with trash : it is as though overladen with undigested food, which gives it neither force nor light.'' 134. " Do not drop a book until you have wrested from it whatever relates the most closely to your subject. After that go on to another and get the cream off, if I may so express myself, in the same manner." 135. " Repeat this labor with several until you find that the same things are beginning to return, or nearly so, and that there is nothing to gain in the plunder ; or until you think that your understanding is sufficiently furnished, and that your mind requires rest to digest the nutriment which it has taken. Rest awhile, for this intellectual di- gestion " (p. 169, etc.) Use of the Topics. 89 136. Of the selection and the assimilation Bautain uses this neat illustration : " Then will he (the reader) do as the bee does, which rifles the flowers ; for, by an admirable instinct which never misleads it, it extracts from the cup of the flowers only what serves to form the wax and the honey, the aromatic and the oleaginous particles. But, be it well observed, the bee first nourishes itself with these extracts, digests them, transmutes them, and turns them into wax and honey solely by an operation of absorption and assimilation. Just so should the speaker do. Before him lie the fields of science and literature, rich in every description of flower and fruit — every hue, every flavor. In these fields he will seek his booty, but with discern- ment ; and, choosing only what suits his work, he will ex- tract from it, by thoughtful reading and by the process of mental tasting (his thoughts all absorbed in his topic and darting at once upon whatever relates to it), every- thing which can minister nutriment to his intelligence, or fill it, or even perfume it — in a word, the substantial and aromatic elements of his honey, or idea — but ever so as to take in or to digest, like the bee,, in order that there may be a real transformation and appropriation, and conse- quently a production possessed of life and destined to live." CHAPTER VII. AN EXAMPLE FOR PRACTICE. 137. We shall conclude our comments on the topics by applying these precepts to a particular subject. Suppose I am to write a speech, or an essay, or an ar- ticle on Religious Liberty. I must first settle with myself whether I am expected to produce an abstract or philoso- phical discussion, or whether I have a practical end to at- tain — e.g., to instil into my hearers a greater love of such liberty, or perhaps to disabuse them of a wrong concep- tion of it. This clear idea of my purpose or end will, of course, direct me in the choice of my arguments. 138. 1. Applying the topic of Definition, I find it neces- sary to remove all vagueness and to form to myself a clear and correct conception of true religious liberty, distinguish- ing it from religious license, as civil liberty is distinguished from civil license ; for liberty is not the absence of all re- straint, but the absence of undue restraint. On the true con- ception of liberty I may read passages in Balmes" Protest- antism and Catholicity in their Effects on the Civilization of Europe, pp. 79, 80, 228, 229. 2. The praise of all true liberty would give us a speci- men of the topic Genns; a reference to the Magna Charta would be an argument from the Species. 3. Upon the name Liberty I may remark that there are few words which are more abused. Thus the revolution- ists in the Reign of Terror in France deluged Paris with the blood of its noblest and most inoffensive citizens in the name of liberty. 9° An Example for Practice. 91 4. The causes which have produced religious liberty may next be studied. At one time the maxim generally prevailed, Cujus regio, ejus religio — "The religion of the ruler is binding on his subjects " — and religious liberty was almost unknown. Christianity did not force the pagans or the Jews to become Christians, but it taught that conver- sion must be voluntary and sincere. Christianity, then, is the great source of religious liberty. On the other hand, exaggerated claims in behalf of private judgment would make all due restraint impossible, or at least illogical, thus producing religious license, the absence of all law and order in religion. 5. The effects of religious liberty may be considered philosophically or historically, also as affecting the indi- vidual or society at large, as bearing fruit for this world or for the next. 6. We may consider the opposite condition of society — viz., religious tyranny, giving its history and describing its effects. 7. We may institute a comparison with civil liberty, ar- guing that, if such sacrifices are made by nations to secure the latter, greater sacrifices should be made to secure the former. 8. We may quote the praises of religious liberty as spoken by venerated authorities, and call attention to ex- amples of its existence ; e.g., in the early colony of Mary- land, and in the whole United States subsequently to the first constitutional amendment. 9. The moral topics may show us how just, useful, pleasing, and necessary it is to protect religious liberty. BOOK III. ORDER OR ARRANGEMENT OF THOUGHTS. 139. We shall next consider how the thoughts of a speech are to be arranged. All rhetoricians attach great impor- tance to the plan or method of an oration. This plan, however, is not subject to any certain fixed and unvarying rules from which no departure is ever allowed. On the contrary, it will vary with the ever-varying circumstances of the speaker, his subject, and his audience, and especially with the end intended, which must regulate all the details of every task. It is, therefore, impossible to lay down oratorical plans for every conceivable occasion, as no mili- tary academy would presume to lay down plans for fu- ture battles. Still, a general should be familiar with all the evolutions through which an army can be put, and he can derive great advantage from the study of the plans adopted in former battles by military geniuses. Similarly, the student of oratory should make himself familiar with all conceivable dispositions of arguments, and study with great care the plans followed by great minds ; then, when his own oratorical contests begin, on which, perhaps, as much may depend as on many a battle, he will marshal his forces to the-best advantage, being not a little assisted by his familiarity with all manners of combinations. 140. Order- may be defined a disposition of parts suited to obtain a certain e ffect. \ It implies intelligence, and as such it is not only useful but also beautiful. Order or Arrangement of Thoughts. 93 141. All order supposes some prin ciple"' of 7 >rder — i.e., some leading thought which directs us in disposing the parts. Thus in a library the contents of the books, their sizes, their manner of bindings may be various principles of order ; frequently several principles are combined, some affecting the chief divisions, others the subdivisions. 142. In a speech the principle of order may be natural or oratorical. CHAPTER I. THE NATURAL ORDER. 143. The natural order is either historical, distributive, or logical. Article I. The Historical Order. 144. The H istorical Orde r arranges parts with regard to the time of their occurrence, j It is the obvious or natural order when a succession of facts makes up the matter of a speech. Thus Cicero, in his oration for Milo, examines ]successively : 1. All that led to the slaying of Clodius ; 2. The circumstances of the affray ; 3. The subsequent con- / duct of Milo — i.e., the antecedents, the circumstances, and the ■ ^consequents. 145. We have another specimen of the historical order in Webster's Speech in Knapp's Trial, which we shall briefly analyze. Introduction. The orator excuses himself for appearing as the prosecutor. Preparatory Refutation of certain prejudices. Division. Two parts : 1. There was a conspiracy to mur- der White, and the culprit was one of the conspirators. 2. He was a principal in the actual murder. Part I. The Conspiracy. Proposition : 1. It existed — proved from its effects. 2. Defendant was a party to it. Proof 1. Presumption arising from his supposed in- terest in it. Proof 2. His intention of stealing White's will — proved by testimony. 94 The Natural Order. 95 Proof 3. His actual connection with the conspiracy. (a) Proved by testimony of what preceded the murder. (/>) Shown by signs after the murder. Part II. He was a Principal in the Murder. 1. General maxims explained — definition of a " princi- pal " fully discussed. 2. Application of these — state of the question clearly put. Proposition : Defendant is a principal — proved from ac- cumulation of circumstantial evidence. 1. He was a party to the conspiracy, as proved. 2. He cannot prove an alibi. 3. Witnesses certify he was there. The orator sums up evidence so far established. 4. Testimony of Rev. Mr. Coleman separately con- sidered. Pe roration : Enumer ation of the a rguments* 146. The Second Part of Burke's Speech on American Taxation is another fine model of the historical order. He considers : 1. The first period — i.e., the policy of the Navi- gation Act ; 2. The second period, or the attempts to raise a revenue from America ; 3. The third period, or Lord Rock- ingham's administration, with Repeal of the Stamp Act ; 4. The. fourth period — i.e., new taxes raised by Townsend. 147. The French are remarkable for regularity in all their literary productions, particularly in the plans of their orations. " In this respect," says J. Q. Adams, " they mr.st be acknowledged far superior to their British neighbors. The English, indeed, in their literary compositions of all kinds have been generally too inattentive to the principles of method" (Lect. xix.) Here is a sample taken from a lecture of D'Aguessecu, of wh' m Dr. Blair speaks as being one of the most eloquent orators that have adorned the bar in any country. He is treating of the Decay of Judicial Eloquence in Prance. 96 Order or Arrangement of Thoughts. Introduction : Eloquence, like all good things, may de- cay — has done so in France. Preparatory Refutation : The cause is not lack of talents, of aids, of proper subjects. Proposition: The cause lies in us. I. In the dispositions with which we come to the bar : 1. Inferior talent ; 2. Low views ; 3. Superficial pre- paration. II. Our conduct at the bar : 1. In youth, eagerness to appear ; hence no study ; examples ; 2. In manhood, multiplicity of business ; hence ig- norance of principles, neglect of form ; 3. Hence, in old age, tardy regret. Peroration : A short exhortation to remedy the evil. Article II. The Distributive Order. ,-148. The DisJnbutivejOrder arranges things which are existing at the same time into a number of groups, so that all the thoughts of the same group have some obvious con- nection with one another. 149. Here are a few examples : I. The Third Philippic of Demosthenes. Introduction : We have rendered our situation as dis- tressing as possible ; now listen to me, and you may yet re- dress all. 1st Part. Proposition : Punish Philip and his agents. (Distributes motives :) 1. Philip has long been attacking us ; 2. All Greece is in danger, and you must defend it ; 3. His agents among you are deceiving you. 2d Part. Proposition : Set to work with energy. (Dis- tributes motives :) I. Philip is approaching rapidly ; The Natural Order. 97 2. His agents are active ; 3. The ruined states ought to be a warning to you ; 4. Till we ourselves begin, no one will join us. Peroration : Whoever has a better advice to give, let him give it. ^,-*5oT II. Cicero, on the Manilian Law, arranges his praise of Pompey under four heads : 1. His skill in war ; 2. His virtue; 3. His authority ; 4. His success. ^-^iSi7 III. D'Aguesseau, to prove that the orator should know human nature, views man : 1. With regard to his various faculties: (a) The mind, which is to be convinced ; (d) The heart, which is to be moved ; (c) The imagination, which is to be interested. 2. With regard to his different conditions he views human nature : (a) In the orator — he must adapt his speech to his age and talent ; (b) In the client — he is to be defended with the ability of a lawyer and the superiority of an orator ; (c) In the judge — he is to be addressed differently in different ages ; (d) In the audience — they wish to have their opin- ions respected. 152. IV. Edmund Burke's oration previous to the Bristol election. The orator refutes the charges : 1 st charge, neglect of constituents ; 2d charge, giving free trade to Ireland ; 3d charge, relief of insolvent debtors ; 4th charge, relief of Roman Catholics. This last is developed in the historical order : (A) Reasons for the persecuting laws ; (jB) Enacting of the laws ; g 8 Order or Arrangement of Thoughts. (C) Execution of the laws ; (D) Author of the repeal ; (£) Reasons for the repeal — enumerated in the distributive order : (a) Generous loyalty of Roman Catholics ; (6) Claims of humanity ; (c) Beneficial effects on British Empire ; (d) Beneficial example found in foreign coun- tries. Refutation of objections. A more minute analysis of this able speech is found in Goodrich's British Eloquence (p. 292, etc.) Article III. Logical Order. 153. The Logical Order is the order of reasoning — i.e., it presents the thoughts as links of one connected chain of reasoning. , This reasoning makes up the whole speech, or a considerable part of it. In his Discourse on the Maniliari" Law, Cicero unites all his arguments thus : " An important war needs a great commander ; but this is an important war, therefore it needs a great commander ; but such is Pompey eminently ; hence we should choose Pompey." 154 Edmund Burke, On Conciliation with America, de-^ velops the following enthymeme : " We cannot conquer America; hence we must make certain concessions." It will be noticed that in -the development of the plan the three principles of the natural order are combined. (See above, number 49.) Introduction: The subject is one that requires systematic views ; reluctance of the speaker to come forward, though invited to do so. Proposition : Seek peace through conciliation. Part I. You cannot conquer America. /. State and circumstances of America. {Distributed :) The Natural Order. 99 1. Population ; 2. Commerce ; 3. Agriculture ; 4. Fisheries. II. Inefficiency of force in such a case. (Distributed :) This force is : 1. Only temporary ; 2. Uncertain ; 3. Injurious ; 4. Unprecedented. III. Spirit of America and its causes. (Distributed .-) 1. Origin of the colonies ; 2. Form of government ; 3. Religion ; 4. Domestic institutions ; 5. Educa- tion ; 6. Remoteness. Hence the spirit of Ameri- cans, firm and intractable. IV. Only three ways possible of dealing with this spirit : 1. To remove causes of offence ; 2. To prosecute as criminal ; 3. To make concessions. (The reason- ing here is : Force cannot conquer a powerful nation animated by the spirit of independence, I. IV. But America is such, II. III. Therefore, etc.) Part II. What should be the nature of the concessions ? The right of taxation is not now the question ; but, as an act of policy, Americans should be allowed the rights of Englishmen. /. Taxation for revenue must be publicly renounced. 1. Inconsistency of insisting on it ; 2. The contest arose from taxation ; 3. Precedents of rights of Englishmen granted to (a) Ireland, (b) Wales, (c) Chester, (d) Durham. II. America, not represented in Parliament, can aid the crown by grants of provincial assemblies. — To explain clear- ly what will be the status of the colonies he lays down a number of connected resolutions, defending each of them, and refuting objections. III. Lord North 's scheme not satisfactory ; proposed plan preferable. IV. No direct revenue ever to be expected from America. CHAPTER II. THE ORATORICAL ORDER. 155. The Oratori cal Order is that which departs design- edly from the natural order to avoid some special diffi- culty or to gain some special advantage,^ sacrificing regu- larity to usefulness. --T56. Examples — I. When Demosthenes spoke his First Philippic the natural order of time would have been : 1. Set to work energetically ; 2. Adopt such and such measures against Philip ; 3. The result will be great and certain. But, seeing the Athenians so dispirited, he begins with the last. 157. II. When Hannibal encouraged his troops on the Alps in sight of Italy, Livy makes him speak : 1. Of the circumstance of place : " Here you must conquer or die "; 2. Of the effects: " A rich booty before you"; 3. Of the circumstances of persons in both armies : " Victory is easy " ; 4. Of the causes of the war : " Remember the provocation." The natural order would have been : causes, circumstances, effects. 15%. III. Cicero, in behalf of Milo, uses the natural order : 1. The charge is false ; but, 2. Even if true, Milo should be acquitted as a public benefactor. While Demos- -thenesr-OTTTihe Chersonesus, uses similar arguments, but in- verts their order : 1. Even if the charge were true you should not disband the army ; but, 2. The charge is false. 159. The natural order would require that we keep to- gether arguments bearing on the same moral topic : e.g., The Oratorical Order. 101 such as prove a measure just would occupy one group ; such as prove it easy another ; such as prove it necessary a third, etc. But it may occasionally suit the purpose of the orator to depart from this in order to secure some special advantage. 1 60. As to the succession of argu ments of flifl fcran* strength, it appears more natural to begin with the least strong and to proceed in the form of a climax ; but the oratorical order readily departs from this for a special reason. " It has been also a subject of inquiry," says Quintilian (b. v. c. 12), "whether the strongest proofs should occupy the foreground, to take immediate posses- sion of the minds of the audience; or should be reserved for the end, to leave the strongest impression upon their minds as they go away ; or should be distributed, some in the beginning and some in the end, the weaker being placed in the middle (an arrangement based on the order of battle described in Homer ; for the Iliad tells us that Nestor placed strong men in front, the weak in the middle, and the best soldiers in the rear) ; or, lastly, whether the orator should begin with the weakest and rise by gradation to the strongest. In my judgment this will depend on the nature and exigencies of the cause, provided always that the discourse shall never fall away from vigor into de- bility." 161. Cicero is more positive (Z>e Or., ii. 77). He says : " I must find fault with those who place their weakest ar- guments first ; and I think that they, too, are in fault who, when they employ many advocates— a custom which I have never approved — always desire the least efficient to speak first. For the very nature of things requires that you reach as soon as possible the expectations of the audience. If they are disappointed in the beginning the orator must labor much harder in the succeeding part of the pleading; 102 Order or Arrangement of Thoughts. and a cause is in danger when you do not from the be- ginning prepossess the hearers in its favor. Therefore, as in the case of the advocates one of the best should speak /first, so in pleading your strongest points should be first (urged, provided always, as regards orators and arguments, j that the distinguishing excellence of an advocate or an ar- igument be reserved for the final appeal. Middling argu- iments — for those that are faulty should be rejected — should be thrown into the middle and enforced in a body." 162. The rule ut augeatur sempjx^M-JM^t^scat^axaiw — " that the speech should ever grow and swell " — regards the effect produced on the minds of the hearers ; i.e., that their conviction and impulse be ever strengthened, and their interest never flag. It does not require that each succeeding argument be stronger in itself than the pre- ceding. 163. If there is but one strong argument, let it be stated first, and, after some weaker ones have been treated, let the strong one return in a new shape. " In all grave and diffi- cult cases," says the Grammar of Eloquence (p. 399), "the orator should never fear to repeat, as often as he deems it useful, his strong arguments, provided he repeats them with variety. . . Demosthenes on the Crown, Cicero for Milo, and O'Connell in his numberless speeches on the rights and wrongs of his country, have all had recourse to repetitions with great success." 164. In connection with the proper place for each of the arguments Quintilian makes some remarks about the greater or less distinctness with which they should be de- veloped : " If the proofs be strong and cogent they should be proposed and insisted on separately ; if weak, it will be best to collect them into one body. For it is right not to obscure the strong ones by jumbling them together, that The Oratorical Order. 103 each may appear distinct in its native vigor ; but those that are intrinsically weak derive strength by mutual support. . . . For example, an advocate may urge against a per- son who is accused of killing another in order to inherit his fortune : ' You expected to come in for the property, and the property was considerable ; you were in pecuniary diffi- culties, and the people to whom you owed money were then pressing you harder than ever ; you had also incurred the displeasure of the man who had appointed you his heir, and you knew that he determined to change his will.' Those arguments taken separately are weak and common ; but collectively their power is felt, not as a peal of thunder, but as a shower of hail" (b. v. c. 12). CHAPTER III. PLAN OF A DISCOURSE. 165. Having so far studied the invention of abundant and appropriate thoughts upon the given subject, and the various principles of order or arrangement, we are now ready to determine upon some suitable plan for our speech — a plan which will, as far as circumstances admit, com- bine the beauty of regularity with the higher consideration of greatest efficiency. As Rev. M. Bautain, in his Art of Extempore Speaking, has devoted uncommon care and labor to the composition of the plan, we can do no better than quote freely from his pages. True, he supposes the speech to be extempore j but he means by this term that the speech has been carefully studied, according to all the precepts so far explained, that the sketch or plan is to be traced on paper, but that the oration will remain without a preli- tninary arrangement of phrases. Whether the speech be written in full or thus partly improvised, the preparation of the plan will be the same. 166. " The plan of a discourse is the order of the things which have to be unfolded. You must, therefore, begin by gathering these together, whether facts or ideas, examining each separately in its relation to the subject or purport of the discourse, and all collectively in their mutual bearings on it. Next, after having selected those which suit the subject, and rejected those which do not, you must mar- shal them around the main idea (the state of the ques- tion) in such a way as to arrange them according to their rank and importance with respect to the result which you Plan of a Discotirse. 105 have in view. But, what is worth still more than even this composition or synthesis, you should try, when possible, to draw forth by analysis or deduction the complete devel- opment of one single idea, which becomes not merely the centre but the very principle of the rest. This is the best manner of explaining or developing, because living things are thus produced by nature, and a discourse, to have its full value and full efficiency, should imitate her in her vital process, and perfect it by idealizing that process. In fact, reason, when thinking and expressing its thought, per- forms a natural function, like the plant which germinates, flowers, and bears fruit " (p. 116). 167. " Sometimes the idea thus conceived is developed and formed rapidly, and then the plan of the discourse arranges itself on a sudden, and you throw it upon paper, warm with the fervor of the conception which has just taken place, as the metal in a state of fusion is formed into the mould and fills at a single turn all its lineaments. It is the case most favorable to eloquence — that is, if the idea has been well conceived and is fraught with life" (p. 178). 168. " But, in general, one must not be in a hurry to form the plan. In nature life always needs a definite time for self-organization, and it is only ephemeral beings which are quickly formed, for they quickly pass away. Everything destined to be durable is of slow jjrowtfr, and both the solidity and the strength of existing things bear a direct ratio to the length of their increase and the matureness of their production. When, therefore, you have conceived an idea, do not hasten — unless it be perfectly clear to you at the first glance — to throw it into shape. Carry it for a time in your mind," etc. 169. " The moment you feel that your idea is mature, and that you are master of it in its centre and in its radiations, its main or trunk lines, take the pen and throw upon paper 106 Order or Arrangement of Thoughts. what you see, what you conceive in your mind. If you are young or a novice, allow the pen to have its way and the current of thought to flow on. There is always life in its first rush, and care should be taken not to check its im- petus or cool its ardor. Let the volcanic lava run ; it will become fixed and crystallize of itself" (p. 197). "Never- theless, beware of introducing^ style into the arrangement of your plan ; it bugrTtTobe like an artist's draught, the sketch which, by a few lines unintelligible to everybody save him who has traced them, decides what is to enter into the composition of the picture, and what place each object shall occupy. Light and shadow, coloring and expression, will come later " (p. 196). 170. "Make your plan at the first heat, if you be im- pelled to do so, and follow your inspiration to the end ; after which leave things alone for a few days, or at least for several hours. Then reread attentively what you have written, and give a new form to your plan ; that is, rewrite it from one end to the other, leaving only what is necessary, what is essential. Eliminate inexorably whatever is ac- cessory or superfluous, and trace, engrave with care the leading characteristics which determine the configuration of the discourse and contain within their demarcations the parts which are to compass it. Only take pains to have the principal features well marked, vividly brought out, and strongly connected together, in order that the division of the discourse may be clear and the links firmly welded " (P- !97)- 171. What, however, is to be done if the idea, no matter how long it is carried and revolved in the mind, does not seem to take shape ? The same author answers : " You must take pen in hand. Writing is a whetstone or flattening engine, which wonderfully stretches ideas and brings out all their malleableness and ductility " (p. 194). Plan of a Discourse. 107 First take note of any thought which may appear suit- able to introduce yourself or your subject to the audience. Next determine whether it will be proper to narrate certain , .facts or explain your position before beginning to reason. See what proposition you will lay down, whether openly or at least in your own mind. Study what division you can make of your arguments, and in what order you can marshal your logical forces. Consider where pathos is apt to find a place naturally. Reflect whether any objections or difficulties may still remain which will have to be refuted or removed before concluding. Lastly, find some suitable conclusion for your speech. Take note of each clear thought which then suggests itself to your mind. z 172. Hence it will be seen that these eight parts may occur in an oration : The Introduction or Exordium, the Narration or Explanation, the Proposition, the Division, the \ i Proofs or Argumentation, the Pathetic, the Refutation, and \ \ the Conclusion or Peroration.. We have said that these •> weight parts may occur, but they need not all occur ; some excellent speeches will contain no more than two or three of them. 173. When these several parts occur they will usually do so in the order in which they have' just been mentioned. Still, there may be some' variations in this ; e.g., a part, or even the whole, of the Refutation may sometimes be placed right after the Introduction when it is important to clear away prejudices or misconceptions. The Pathetic may occur almost anywhere, and even several times in the same speech. We shall treat of it in connection with Argumen- tation, with which it is usually combined. CHAPTER IV. ANALYSIS AND SYNOPSIS. 174. For the thorough study of masterpieces it will be useful to add some further explanation. To Analyze ( ava-Xv co) is to take apart ; thus a chemist is said to analyze a compound substance when he resolves it into the simple elements contained in it. Applied to literary compositions, it means to examine a piece in all its details, seeing what are its divisions and subdivisions ; what it pretends to explain, to prove, or to refute ; what arguments it employs to gain its end ; how these are ar- ranged, developed, etc., etc. — in a word, it is to bring to light all that the composition contains, whether of matter or of form, of truth or of artifice. ' 175. To show the importance of analyzing, we may re- mark that it is the most thorough manner of studying a model ; in fact, without such a process the reading of masterpieces is comparatively of little use. 176. A Synopsis (ffvv-6'ipis) is a brief sketch of the entire composition, presenting at one glance all that the analysis has discovered, the skeleton, as it were, of the masterpiece which has been taken apart, or of a new piece which is in course of composition. 177. Its principal advantage is this: that it enables us to see the additional value which each part derives from its combination with the other parts ; and thus we realize the skill displayed by a master-mind in the preparation of his materials to produce the desired composition. Analysts and Synopsis. 109 178. A good synopsis might contain the following points: I. A brief statement of the circumstances in which the oration was delivered. II. Tke End intended and the State of the question. III. The chief obstacles to be overcome. 179. IV. The plan of the speech — i.e., 1. The Introduction, stating what special effects are aimed at and how these are attained. 2. The Proposition and Division, very exactly stated, often distinguishing between the apparent and the real proposition. 3. A statement of what is Narrated or Explained. 4. The Arguments, sketching to the eye their divisions and subdivisions, and noting the artifices employed. 5. Pathos — what passions ? and how excited ? 6. Refutation, if any, briefly stating the objections and the answers. 7. Peroration, stating what is aimed at, and how it is ^ attained. "i8oT~v"7 The effects produced by the speech, with a brief criticism of the chief excellences and the defects of the model analyzed. 181. Examples of Synopses. I. Cicero's Oration on the Manilian Law. 1 I. Pompey had just finished the war against the pirates ; I Manilius had moved the appointment of the same general \ to finish the protracted war against Mithridates, King of IPontus. I II. End intended: to make the people vote for the ap- pointment of Pompey. \ III. Plan. 1. Introduction: formal, solemn ; gains benevolence by modesty, gratitude, devotedness ; attention by prom- \ jsing a rich theme. no Order or Arrangement of Thoughts. 2. Proposition : I will speak for Pompey (i.e., I advo- cate his appointment). 3. Exposition of distress in Asia (brief and vivid). 4. Division, formal : 1. The war necessary ; 2. Vast ; 3. Needs a great commander. 5. Arguments : Part I. War necessary, on account of — 1. Our glory : (a) Insult great ; (b) Unavenged ; (c) Enemy powerful ; (d) Glory of ancestors to be maintained. 2. Our allies: tableau of their distress, their hope. 3. Our revenues : (a) Riches of Asia ; (b) Useless in time of fear. 4. Private fortunes : (a) In Asia ; (b) At home. Fart II. War vast : (transition by way of objection). 1. What has so far been done — cold praise of Lu- cullus. 2 . Why ineffectual : (a) Mithridates escaped ; (b) Is reinforced ; (c) Roman armies restless ; (d) Sympathy with Mithridates ; (e) Our defeat ; (/) Lucullus recalled. Part III. The commander to be chosen needs four quali- ties ': Analysis and Synopsis. m i. Knowledge of war : (a) Pompey has had every chance to acquire it; (b) Has proved that he possesses it. 2. Virtue : (a) Chiefly courage ; rapid sketch of his ex- ploits ; results contrasted with previous dis- tress of Rome ; (b) Other virtues, contrasted with vices of other generals, chiefly disinterestedness. 3. Authority : (a) Important ; (b) Great in Pompey. 4. Success: (a) A special gift to some ; (b) That of Pompey extraordinary. Recapitulation of the whole argument of speech. 6. Refutation : appeal from authorities to facts. I. Hortensius objects : 1. " Give not all to one man." Answer : " It is well we did not follow your ad- vice before." 2. " At least make not Gabinius his lieuten- ant " (digression) : (a) As he is a special friend of Pompey ; (b) As he was lately tribune. Answer : " The first is the very reason to appoint him ; the second has often been disregarded." II. Catulus objects : 1. " We cannot afford to expose Pompey." Answer (jocose) : " If he perish we will take you next." 2. " Our ancestors avoided innovations," 1 1 2 Order or Arrangement of Thoughts. Answer : (a) " In peace, yes ; in war, no " : examples ; (b) " Catulus should not oppose the wisdom of the people." (c) " No one but Pompey is disinterested enough." (d) " Other weighty authorities balance yours." 7. Peroration : cheers on Manilius— promises help ; protests disinterestedness in the matter. IV. The speech was successful, but perhaps unfortun- ately for Rome. Cicero here aided to make one man too powerful, unconsciously preparing the way for Csesar's ambition and the civil wars in which Cicero himself per- ished. This is probably the most regular great speech in exist- ence. 182. II. Cicero's Oration for Milo. For introductory remarks see Book ii. c. i. Plan. Introduction . from the circumstances, which were ad- verse to Milo, but which Cicero interprets favora- bly, to inspire the judges with confidence ; appeal to their firmness and compassion. Proposition : Acquit Milo, who acted in self-defence. (Division not stated, because Part II. would have cre- ated prejudice.) Refutation. Objection 1 (implied) : horror of all blood- shed. Answer : (a) Violence is often lawful — examples ; (b) Especially in self-defence — examples ; common consent ; wording of the law. Obj. 2. " The Senate has condemned Milo," Analysis and Synopsis. 113 Answer : (a) Rather the contrary : " they say I rule the Senate." (b) " It has condemned the violence commit- ted, not the conduct of Milo." Obj. 3. " Pompey condemns Milo." Answer : (a) " Why, then, has he appointed a trial ? " (b) " The exceptional form of this court is due to the dangerous times." (c) " Pompey has selected friends of Milo as judges." Narration (most plausible and skilful) of Milo's de- parture ; the affray. Argumentation : Part I. Clodius waylaid Milo. Order historical : I. Antecedent to meeting : 1. Final cause : (a) Cui bono ? (6) Clodius hated Milo. 2. Antecedents of both rivals — a majore. 3. Journey then and there necessary for Milo ; rash for Clodius. II. Circumstances of meeting ; place, equip- ment ; objections answered. III. Subsequent events : 1. Slaves freed in pure gratitude. 2. Testimony of Clodius' slaves unreliable. 3. Milo's return to Rome. 4. Present situation : Pompey not hostile ; Milo his friend (insinuates that Milo may be needed by Pompey) ; fair trial. 1 14 Order or Arrangement of Thoughts. Part II Even if Milo had killed him wilfully he should be acquitted. Proofs : 1 . From Effects : He has freed Rome from a plague (an eloquent prosopopoeia). 2. From Contrary : Could Clodius return to life — I see you shrink from the thought (a happy hypothesis) ; now, a public benefactor merits gratitude. 3. From Causes : Death of Clodius the work of Providence. For there is a Providence, who had reasons to punish Clodius in that very place and manner. Recapitulation of 2d Part : Clodius, a great plague, could not be resisted except by Milo, who, by de- stroying him, saved Rome. Peroration excites mercy for the sufferings of Milo, and admiration for his unflinching firmness. 183. III. Cicero for Marcellus. Remark: Ca?sar had just declared in the Senate his will- ingness to let Marcellus, a former adherent of Pompey, re- turn to Rome, and had called on each senator present for some expression of approbation. Cicero is in turn asked his opinion. He takes this occasion to make one of his most eloquent speeches ; it is not very regular, but very art- ful and full of noble sentiments beautifully expressed. It is one of the noblest orations of this great orator. His End is twofold : 1. To acknowledge the favor done to his own friend ; 2. To induce Cassar to put a stop to all resentment, and repair the evils of the civil war. This he strives to accomplish by two means : 1. By extolling the present act of clemency above all military glory ; 2. By explaining the task still remaining. Analysis and Synopsis. 115 Excellences : 1. The praise is magnificent, a model of panegyrics ; 2. The tact most delicate in lecturing Caesar. Plan. Introduction brief : reasons to speak after a long si- lence ; fully satisfied with the situation. Part I. Expresses and richly develops his appreciation of the favor done to himself, to Marcellus, to all. Part II. Extols the act of clemency, both to give Caesar deserved praise and to suggest further leniency. Proposition : This act is more honorable than all your exploits. Proofs: 1. It is your own entirely ; 2. Most difficult ; 3. Excites more admiration and gratitude 4. Is so highly beneficial. Pathetic recapitulation and amplification : 5. Under the appearance of extolling the fa- vor, he here artfully excuses himself, and Marcellus, and the whole party of Pompey, laying all the blame on some few extremists. 6. Returning to the point, he gives a beau- tiful common-place on the praise of gene- rosity. Refutation of Caesar's fear of treachery ; danger improbable among the conquered as well as the conquerors ; still, caution is just. Part III. The task remaining to Caesar — -boldly but delicately told. Proposition : You have still a great work to do. Proofs : 1. Description of existing evils ; 2. You must save your country ; 3. Your glory requires it ; 4. Posterity will exact it ; ii5 Order or Arrangement of Thoughts. 5. There is no further reason for hostility. Narration. Still, provide for your safety. Peroration : Thanks. 184. IV. Speech of Cicero for Murena. The end intended is to have Murena, consul-elect, ac- quitted from a charge of bribery brought against him by his rival, Sulpicius, who was supported by Cato and Pos- tumius. State of the question : Did Murena use illegal means to get voters ? // had been argued by accusers : 1. That he could not otherwise have defeated Sul- picius in the election, being his inferior in moral qualities and in dignity ; 2. That he had actually used bribes. To refute this, Cicero 1. Disproves his depravity ; 2. Maintains that he was equal to Sulpicius in dignity and more skilled and fortunate in canvassing ; 3. Disproves his illegal proceedings. Cicero had be- sides to spare the feelings of the prosecutors, and to lessen Cato's influence over the minds of the judges. The principal beauty of the speech lies in the delicate ad- dress with which all this is so happily accomplished that the court was convulsed with laughter, without offence to any one, and the suit was dismissed. Plan. Introduction wins benevolence and docility by — r. A prayer for concord ; homage paid to the judges. 2. Excuses : (a) To Cato ; (b) To Sulpicius. for undertaking the defence. Analysis and Synopsis. 1 1 7 Arguments : Part I. Charges against his morals : 1. His sojourn in Asia was for his father's sake, and blameless ; 2. The charge that he had disgraced himself by dancing is disproved from his antecedents. Part II Respective claims of the two candidates. Order Historical : 1. Birth — equal enough ; 2. Questorship, too ; 3. Subsequent career as attorney and lieu- tenant ; 4. Prastorship ; 5. Following year ; 6. Canvassing for consulship — mistakes of Sulpicius ; 7. Election day — conduct of Catiline. Part III. Bribery. Order Distributive : 1. Sad lot of Murena to come near losing all, and to have such op- ponents ; 2. Charges of Postumius and young Sulpicius refuted ; 3. Reply to Cato . (A) Weakens his influence — no great name should sway the judges ; Cato's rules are too rigid, owing to his Stoic philosophy, which gets all the blame. (B) Reviews his accusations : (a) In general, declamations against bribery are useless where there was no bribery, no law violated ; the senate's decree conditional. (b) As to facts in particular : grand receptions are common, retinues 1 1 8 Order or Arrangement of Thoughts. * proper ; the shows were not his ; besides, these too are common. (c) Cato's principles are too rigid ; they are useless, unpopular, and refuted by his own conduct ; (d) Consequences of the trial ; two consuls needed now, as great dan- gers threaten ; even Cato is not safe. The judges are to deter- mine whether there shall be two. Peroration : Fear and pity, both aroused by tableaux. 185. V. Demosthenes' First Olynthiac ('Eni noWwv fxhv av). The people of Olynthus had asked the Athe- nians for help against Philip, who threatened to enslave them. End intended : to encourage and arouse the Athenians. Introduction : We may thank the gods for this occasion ; profit by it. Part I. To encourage. Proposition : I will reveal to you Philip's shameful con- dition. Proof 1. Considering his allies : (a) He has grown powerful by deceit — facts prove it — hence no one will trust him any longer ; (0) He cannot keep his allies by main force ; (c) Power built on deceit is not lasting. Hence now is the time for us to act, assisting Olynthus, sending ambassadors to Thessaly. But we must act at once, else no one will mind us ; and energetically — this will reveal his weakness. Proof 2. His own power is little : (a) Macedon by itself is weak ; (&) h is weakened by internal discord, as his A nalysis and Synopsis. 1 1 q subjects share not his ambition, and they are the sufferers by these wars ; (c) Even his army is not what they say, for through jealousy he discards good gene- rals ; honest men cannot bear his dissipa- tion ; hence none but knaves and flatterers surround him — you know some of them ; (d) His first reverses will show all this ; com- parison with hidden diseases. Proof 3. He is not the favorite of fortune, which rather favors us. His success arises : (a) From our neglect and his activity ; (d) From our folly, who do more for others than for ourselves ; (c) From our trifling away precious time. Part II. To arouse the Athenians to action. Proposition : We must change our ways. /. Proofs : 1. The conduct which has ruined all can re- store nothing ; 2. We cannot afford to lose any more. II. Plan proposed : 1. Contribute, march out, etc., 2. Treat your generals better ; 3. Do away with your party spirit ; 4. Contribute equally ; 5. Hear all alike, then judge. Conclusion : Do not so much applaud your speaker as act in such a way that you may applaud yourselves. 186. VL Demosthenes' Third Olynthiac ('Avti noWtiov av). Circumstances similar to preceding. Introduction : You wish to know what to do ; well, then, listen and judge. i:20 Order or Arrangement of Thoughts. Part I. Proposition : We must seize the opportunity. Proofs : i. Philip is so active that we must be on the spot ; 2. The opportunity is a good one ; for the Olyn- thians will be firm allies, as they distrust and hate Philip ; 3. We have been putting it off too long already ; 4. The gods invite, we must co-operate ; 5. It is our last chance ; proved by rapid sketch of Philip's encroachments. Part II Introduction : You want to know how ; I am afraid of proposing measures, but I must overlook my danger. Proposition 1. Send some troops to Olynthus, others to Macedon. Proof : We must divide his power. Proposition 2. Provide money, or rather use well what money you have. Proof : We must have money for this war. Part III. Enforces these measures by proving : Proposition 1. Success is certain : Proofs : (a) Philip would not have advanced if he had expected resistance ; (b) The Thessalonians are unfaithful to him ; (c) The Paeonians and Illyrians are unreli- able. Hence set to work ; details. Proposition 2. Action is necessary. Proofs : 1. Else the war will come to us, as no one else will resist ; 2. That will be a great calamity. Analysis and Synopsis. 121 Conclusion : Let all ranks do their duty. 187. VII. St. John Chrysostom's speech of Flavian to Theodosins. The people of Antioch had insulted the emperor during a tumult ; a severe punishment was order- ed by the latter. The aged Bishop Flavian, in a speech attributed to his deacon, St. John Chrysostom, pleads for pardon and obtains it. Introduction allays the emperor's anger : (a) By exhibiting humility and love ; (6) By artfully presenting another object for indigna- tion ; (c) By exciting pity for the condemned city. Proposition (implied) : You should pardon. Arguments : I Extrinsic . i. Example of God pardoning man. This is skilfully treated, showing that in the present case, as in the example cited, the evil spirit is chiefly to blame, and is punished by the act of pardon ; 2. Example of Constantine ; its glory amplified ; 3. Example of Theodosius himself, applying a wish which he once uttered to the present case. /7. Intrinsic : 1. Glory of pardoning shown from its nature and effects ; 2. Its rewards from God ; 3. The propriety of granting this to a bishop : (a) It shows more freedom ; (b) It argues piety ; (c) The bishop is a messenger from God, the Judge ; (d) He comes without gifts, inviting the em- peror to imitate God. 122 Order or Arrangement of Thoughts. Peroration . If you do not pardon I will not return to my people. The chief beauty lies in the art of insinuation and in ten- derness and elevation of feeling. 1 88. VIII. St. John Chrysostom's Speech on the Disgrace of Eutropius. Eutropius, as prime minister, had oppressed the faithful of Constantinople ; disgraced, he had sought refuge in the cathedral ; the indignant populace clamored for his death. St. Chrysostom ascends the pulpit to calm them, to make them forgive and intercede for the fallen minister with the Emperor Arcadius. It is a model of insinuation, as artful as it is noble. He appears at first to insist on nothing but what every one grants — the vanity of honors and riches — thus inspiring pity for a man who had been beguiled by these, and who is already so much punished; thus the orator draws tears from all eyes. Then he ascends to the sublimest senti- ments of Christianity, and persuades all to pardon their enemy and intercede for him. Plan: Introduction (ex abrupto) : Greatness is vanished, the foe is prostrate. Prop. I. The vanity of life should be ever remembered ; developed by enumeration, description, contrast ; hence the fall of one should be a lesson for all. Prop. II. Elevation is not only vain, but dangerous. Proof . See how the minister is fallen — a tableau to move pity. Refutation : Obf. i. " He has insulted the Church." Answer : " Therefore God has wished him to feel her power and her mercy." Ob/. 2. " No glory in pardoning such a wretch." Analysis and Synopsis. 123 Answer : {a) " Such was the harlot pardoned by our Saviour." (&) " Thus Christ forgave his enemies on the cross.'' Peroration contains the main proposition : Let us pray for him and intercede for him with the emperor. Effect : His life was spared for the present ; some days after, having left the church, he was arrested, banished, and at last executed. BOOK IV. DEVELOPMENT OF THOUGHT. • 189. When the arguments of a speech have been collected and properly arranged, the next task of the orator is to de- velop all the parts of the plan or synopsis which he has prepared, so that every thought may be presented to the best advantage. In this task he may be much assisted by the precepts which rhetoricians have laid down for the several parts of the oration. We shall consider these parts in the order in which they usually occur. CHAPTER I. THE INTRODUCTION. 190. The Inti^iwtio»,_i}i_Exq]^um, as Blair remarks, " is not a rhetorical invention. It is founded upon nature and suggested by common sense. When one is going to counsel another, when he takes upon himself to instruct or to reprove, prudence will generally direct him not to do it abruptly, but to use some preparation, to begin with some- what that may incline the persons to whom he addresses himself to judge favorably of what he is about to say, and may dispose them to such a train of thought as will forward and assist the purpose which he has in view. This is, or ought to be, the main scope of an introduction." 191. "Accordingly Cicero and Quintilian mention three ends, to one or other of which it should be subservient : Redder^ auditor es benevolos, a ttentos , dodl&s^ First, to con- ciliate the good-will of the hearers — to render them bene- volent, or well affected, to the speaker and to the subject. Topics for this purpose may, in causes at the bar, be some- times taken from the particular situation of the speaker himself or his client, or from the character and behavior of his antagonist contrasted with his own ; on other oc- casions, from the nature of the subject, as closely con- nected with the interest of the hearers; and in general from the modesty and good intention with which the speaker enters upon his subject. The second end of an introduc- tion is, to obtain the attention of the hearers, which may be done by giving them some hints of the importance, dignity, or novelty of the subject, or some favorable 125 126 Development of Thought. view of the clearness and precision with which we shall treat it, and of the brevity with which we shall discourse. "fhe third end is to render the hearers docile, or open to per- suasion, for which end we must begin by studying to re- ,'move any particular prepossessions they may have con- : tracted against the cause or the side of the argument which we espouse." 192. " Some one of these ends should be proposed by every introduction. When there is no occasion for aiming at any of them, when we are already secure of the good- will, the attention, and the docility of the audience, as may often be the case, formal introductions may without preju- dice be omitted. And, indeed, when they serve for no pur- pose but mere ostentation, they had, for the most part, better be omitted, unless as far as respect to the audience makes it decent that a speaker should not break in upon them too ab- ruptly, but by a short exordium prepare them for what he is going to say. Demosthenes' introductions are always short and simple ; Cicero's are fuller and more artful." (Lect. xxxi.) "' -J^i,^-~"~' 193. We may distinguish two kinds of Introductions : the Calm and the Pa ssionate . The latter — the exordium exjibrupto, as it is usually called — supposes that not only the speaker but also the hearers are excited by unusual cir- ( /cumstances ; otherwise it would appear unseasonable to b? gm a speech in a passionate manner. The most familiar example of this species is the Exordium of Cicero's first Catilinian oration. In it passion was most opportune. Catiline, a known conspirator against the state, had dared to come into the senate when it had been expressly con- voked to defeat his plans. All shrank from him as from a criminal. Cicero addresses him thus : " How long, O Catiline, wilt thou abuse our patience ? How long wilt thou baffle justice in thy mad career? To The Introduction. 127 what extreme wilt thou carry thy audacity ? Art thou no- thing daunted by the nightly watch posted to secure the Palatium ? . . . Seest thou not that all thy plots are ex- posed ? that thy conspiracy is laid bare to every man's knowledge here in the senate ? that we are all well aware of thy proceedings of last night, of the night before ; the place of meeting, the company convoked, the measures concerted ? Alas the times ! alas the public morals ! The senate understands this. The consul sees it. Yet the traitor lives ! Lives ? Ay, truly, and confronts us here in council ; takes part in the public deliberations ; marks and destines every one of us as a victim for the impending butchery," etc. 194. The Calgu Introduction may be of three species : Simple, Sol emn, o r Insinudting7 Of the Simplfe , which is, of "course, the most common, here is an example : Edmund Burke, speaking on the East India Bill of Mr. Fox, begins thus : " Mr. Speaker, I thank you for pointing to me ; I really wished much to engage your attention in an early stage of the debate. I have been long very deeply, though perhaps imperfectly, engaged in the preliminary in- quiries, which have continued without intermission for some years," etc. So the First Philippic and First Olyn- thiac, the Oration on the Chersonesus, of Demosthenes, and most other introductions of this great orator. 195. Of the So2§HiB-"w'e have examples in the Oration on the Crown, in that on the Maniliaji-iaw, in many of Bossuet's great panegyrics. Webster's Oration at the Lay- ing of the Corner-stone of the Bunker Hill Monument be- gins thus : " This uncounted multitude before me and around me proves the feeling which the occasion has excited. These thousands of human faces, glowing with sympathy and joy, and, from the impulses of a common gratitude, turned 128 Development of Thought. reverently to heaven in this spacious temple of the firma- ment, proclaim that the day, the place, and the purpose of our assembling have made a deep impression on our hearts," etc. 196. Of the Insinuating, Cicero's speech against RuJJjis contains a beautiful specimen. We give Blair's comments on the subject. He says (Lect. xxxi.) : " This Rullus was a tribune of the people, and had proposed an agrarian law the purpose of which was to create a decemvirate, or ten commissioners, with absolute power for five years over all the lands conquered by the republic, in order to divide them among the citizens. Such laws had often been pro- posed by factious magistrates, and were always greedily re- ceived by the people. Cicero is speaking to the people ; he had lately been made consul by their interest, and his first attempt is to make them reject this law. The subject was extremely delicate and required much art. He begins with acknowledging all the favors which he has received from the people, in preference to the nobility. He pro- fesses himself the creature of their power, and of all men the most engaged to promote their interest. He declares that he held himself to be consul of the people, and that he would always glory in preserving the character of a popular magistrate. But to be popular, he observes, is an ambiguous word. He understood it to import a steady at- tachment to the real interest of the people, to their liberty, their ease, and their peace ; but by some, he says, it was abused, and made a cover to their own selfish and am- bitious designs. In this manner he begins to draw gradu- ally nearer to his purpose of attacking the proposal of Rullus, but still with great management and reserve. He protests that he is far from being an enemy to agrarian laws ; he gives the highest praise to the Gracchi, those zealous patrons of the people, and assures them that when The Introduction. 129 he first heard of Rullus' law he had resolved to support it, if he found it for their interest ; but that, upon examining it, he found it calculated to establish a dominion that was inconsistent with liberty, and to aggrandize a few men at the expense of the public; and then terminates his exordium with telling them that he is going to give his reasons for being of this opinion, but that, if his reasons shall not satisfy them, he will give up his own opinion and embrace theirs. In all this there was great art. His eloquence pro- duced the desired effect, and the people with one voice re- jected the agrarian law." 197. But perhaps the finest masterpiece of insinuation is the supposed speech of Mark Antony over the dead body of Caesar, as given in Shakspeare's " Caesar," act iii. sc. 2. When no advantage is to be obtained by an introduction, none need be used, but the orator may rush " in medias res" as is frequently done in deliberative assemblies. Thus Lord Mansfield, On Taxing America, begins thus : " My Lord, I shall speak to the question strictly as a matter of right." 198. For the Introduction, whatever its kind, rhetori- cians lay down some excellent rules. The first rule is, that the I ntroduction should be eagy_ and na tural. The subject m ust always sugges t it. It must appear, as Qicero beautifully expresses it, " efflazMisse~£em~ tus e re de qua agitur " — " to have sprung from the matter under consideration as naturally as a flower springs from the stem." In order to render introductions natural and easy, it will be well to follow the practice of Cicero. " When I have planned and digested all the materials of my discourse," he says, " it is my custom to think in the last place of the introduction with which I am to begin." A secaad-^ule for Introductions is that cairectaess should be carefully studied in the expression. The hearers are 130 Development of Thought. not as yet occupied with the subject and the arguments ; their attention is wholly directed to the speaker's style and manner. Still, for the same reason, too apparent art is to be avoided. Ut videamur, says Quintilian, accurate, non callide__diiere — " That we may appear to speak wTtfTcare, not with craft." " In the third place" says Blair, "modegtjr_is another cha- racter whicnttr-mjist carry. All appearances of modesty are favorable and prepossessing. If the orator set out with an air of arrogance and ostentation, the self-love and pride of the hearers will be presently awakened, and will follow him with a very suspicious eye throughout all his progress. His modesty should discover itself not only in his expressions at the beginning, but in his whole manner ; in his looks, in his gestures, in the tone of his voice. Every auditory take in good part those marks of respect and awe which are paid to them by one who addresses them. Indeed, the modesty of an introduction should never betray anything mean or abject. It is always of great use to an orator that, together with modesty and deference to his hearers, he should show a certain sense ofjUgaity, arising from a per- suasion of the justice or importance of the subject on which he is to speak. . . There are cases in which it is allow- able for him to set out from the first in a high and bold tone ; as, for instance, when he rises to defend some cause which has been much run down and decried by the pub- lic." Fourthly, The Introduction should usually be carried on in a Cj^ni_manner ; the exception of the exordium ex ab- rupto has already been explained. Fifthly, It is a rule in Introductions not jto anticipate any material part of the subject, lest important arguments lose the charm of novelty. Sixthly, The Introduction ought to be propojtwmtte, The Introduction. 131 both in length and in kind, to the discourse which is to fol- low, since good taste requires among the parts of any com- position a certain proportion both in length and spirit. 199. In thejiasej)f rep l i ea— Quintilian makes an observa- tion which is worth inserting here. He says : " An intro- duction which is founded upon the pleading of the opposite party is extremely graceful, for this reason : that it appears not to have been meditated at home, but to have naturally arisen from the discussion and to have been composed on the spot. Hence it gives to the speaker the reputation of a quick invention, and adds weight likewise to his dis- course as artless and unlabored, insomuch that, though all the rest of his oration should be studied and written, yet the discourse appears to be extempor e." CHAPTER II. NARRATION AND EXPLANATION 200. Narration _ properly regards facts which should suc- ceed each other/ Ex planation regards a situation, a doc- trine, a view of what exists simultaneously. Both are treated as separate parts of speeches when they are made the foundation of subsequent reasoning. Thus the lawyer narrates the facts of his case before he begins to reason on them ; the preacher explains a doctrine before he proves it or applies it to his hearers. 20 1. As the Narration or Explanation is to be the foun- dation of subsequent reasoning, this fact, whilst revealing its importance, also determines the rules that should direct it ; for everything is to be adapted to the end intended. Hence we have the following rules: "To be clear and dis- tinct" says Blair, "to be probable and to be concise, are the qualities which critics chiefly require in narration : each of which carries sufficiently the evidence of its im- portance. Distinctness belongs to the whole train of the discourse, but is especially requisite in narration, which ought to throw light on all that follows. A fact or a single circumstance left in obscurity, and misapprehended by the judge, may destroy the effect of all the argument and reasoning which the speaker employs. If his narration be not probable the judge will not regard it, and if it be tedious and diffuse he will be tired of it and forget it. In order to procure d istinctness , besides the study of the general rules of perspicuity which were formerly given, narration requires a particular attention to ascertain clearly Narration and Explanation. 133 the names, the dates, the places, and every other material circumstance of the facts recounted. In order to be -pre- — bablein narration, it is material to enter into the characters of the persons of whom we speak, and to show that their actions proceeded from such motives as are natural and likely to gain belief. In order to be as concise as the subject will admit, it is necessary to throw out all super- fluous circumstances, the rejection of which will likewise tend to make our narration more forcible and more clear." 202. To the three qualities just mentioned we may add two others, elegance and truthfulness. Of elegance the judi- cious Father Kleutgen remarks (Ars Dicendi, n. 379) : " That the narration may gain credit by conciliating and moving the heart, it should be embellished with all possible charms ; this rule will be modified by the subject. In un- important matters, as private pleadings generally are, let the style be concise. Let there be great care in the choice of words, that they be expressive and attuned to the sense, a concealed but charming melody ; the figures not poetically bold, but varied enough to keep interest alive. For explanation is of itself destitute of all charms, and unless it commend itself by such beauty it will necessarily appear tame and dry. Nor is the hearer ever more atten- tive ; and, therefore, nothing that is well expressed is lost. Besides, some way or other, we believe more readily what is pleasing to the ear, and pleasure obtains credit." " But when the matter is more important it will be proper to expose crime with indignation, and suffering in strains of pity, not so as to exhaust these passions, but so as to give the hearers a taste of them, that the main tone of the future speech may at once be understood." 203. That truthjfjjlBe8S'~is required of an honest man on all occasions is a general principle from which no depar- ture is ever allowed. But what if a lawyer defends a cul- 134 Development of Thought. prit whom he knows to be guilty ? Is he to proclaim the full truth ? No, indeed : the culprit's crime is his own secret, which, for the common good, the law respects until the guilt is proved ; and his lawyer is sacredly bound by the duties of his office to protect that secret. When the orator asserts his client's innocence he tells no lie ; for his words mean, in the acceptation of men, that the client is innocent before the court, or not legally guilty — that, as the Scotch express it, the crime is not proven. But this does not entitle the lawyer to state what is positively and un- equivocally false. His skill will consist in presenting all the facts favorable to him in a clear light, while he throws doubt and an air of indistinctness on the facts alleged against him, and treats all that is not proven as not having happened. 204. A beautiful mgjlel of this s4dlful-- manag o m -e«t is found in the narration of Cicero's speech for Milo ; every circumstance making it unlikely that Milo waylaid Clodius is distinctly pointed out, while the affray itself is made con- fused enough, with little light thrown except on the palli- ating circumstances. He says : " Milo, after staying in the senate that day till the senate adjourned, went home. He changed his shoes and dress ; he waited a little, while his wife was getting ready ; then he started at a time when Clodius, if he was to come to Rome at all that day, could already have returned. He is met by Clodius unencum- bered, on horseback, without carriage or baggage, without the Greek companions he was wont to have, without his wife — a rare exception — while this waylayer, who, they pre- tended had planned that journey to commit the murder, was riding with his wife in a carriage, wrapped up in his cloak, attended by a large promiscuous crowd, with a nu- merous suite of women and delicate boys and girls. He meets Clodius before the latter's farm an hour before sun- Narration and Explanation. 135 down or thereabouts. At once a numerous armed band rush on him from a higher ground ; those in front slay his driver ; but by the time Milo had thrown off his cloak and jumped from the carriage, and while he was vigorously defending himself, the attendants of Clodius, with drawn swords, ran back to the carriage to attack Milo in the rear, while some, because they thought him already killed, began to slay his slaves who were behind. Of these some, faithful to their master, and preserving their presence of mind, fell in the action ; others, seeing the contest around the car- riage, and unable to help their master, and hearing from Clodius' own lips that Milo was slain, and believing it to be true, did — I will say it not to exculpate him, but as it hap- pened — the slaves of Milo did, without the orders, or know- ledge, or presence of their master, what every man would have wished his own slaves to do under the circumstances.'' 205. Another admirable specimen of Narration at the bar is found in Webster's Speech in Knapp's Trial, giving the facts of the murder of Mr. White ; it is, as the occasion required, more ornate and pathetic than Cicero's. 206. The Narration may be omitted if the judge or the audience not only know the facts, but also view them as the speaker desires ; and, in general, when no probable ad- vantage will result from its insertion. 207. The Narration is sometimes divided into parts; such a division is useful : 1. When the whole truth told at once would offend ; 2. When the opponent's narration must be refuted point by point ; 3. When the matter is too intricate; it may then be ex- plained by portions. Thus Webster relates separately : (a) the murder of White ; (l>) all that proves the existence of a conspiracy ; (c) the circumstantial evidence of Knapp's concurrence as a principal in the murder. Demosthenes 136 Development of Thought. also, in his speech on the Crown, has made several distinct narrations, the ground-work of separate reasonings. Al- most all the rules and remarks which apply to Narration are also suited to Explanation, on which, therefore, we need not comment any further. CHAPTER III. PROPOSITION AND DIVISION. 208. After the Introduction and the Narration or Ex- planation it is natural and usual for the speaker to state briefly his P ropasitij ffi — i.e., what he undertakes to prove or advocate. This statement is generally useful and often necessary. It should be made whenever the hearers do not already know what we are going to maintain, unless there is danger of arousing their prejudices ; in this latter case the Proposition may either be deferred till near the end of the speech or be omitted altogether. Thus, in his first Catilinian speech, Cicero defers his proposition, which we take to be this : " The consul commands a public enemy to leave the city. Into exile ? I do not command it ; but if you consult me, I advise it." In the fourth Catilinian the orator lays down no proposition, as he wishes to shirk the responsibility of condemning the conspirators to death. 209. When made, the statement of the Proposition should be br ief and clear; it may also be repeated in various terms to impress it on the minds of the hearers. Ornaments of style in expressing it are only proper when they can lead to no ambiguity. Even w hen not expres slyjstated the Proposition must be clearlyand_distinctly conceived by the orator in bis own mind, because it contains the proxi- mate end of the whole speech, it is the magnetic needle which is to guide him, the target which he is to hit. But this rule, though most important, is too clear to need further explanation. 210. The Diyisiojuor-Partition, viewed as a part of the 138 Development of Thought. speech, is the statement of the principal heads of our plan. This statement should be brief and pointed ; for, if there be any use in making it at all, it should be so worded as to be easily understood and remembered by the audience. Whether the division should be stated or not, will depend on many considerations, and not a little on the taste of the orator and the audience. In general we may say that in argumentative and explanatory speeches, in which the understanding is addressed rather than the heart, the clear statement of the division is very useful, for the hearers are thus enabled to follow and remember more easily our line of thought. 211. There is also considerable beauty and s tateli ness in a clear Division distinctly laid_down and faithfully carried out, aifappears in the Oration on the Manihan Law. This is, perhaps, the most regular oration in any language, and as such it is well worth the study of learners ; not that they are expected to attain such regularity in all their speeches, but that they may discipline their minds and be able to write a regular oration when the occasion require. 212. The Division should not be stated: 1. When its statement would displease ; e.g., by appearing to announce a rather long speech. 2. When some parts seem useless at first, as happens in the oration for Milo. 3. When the statement would interfere with an oratori- cal suspense or other artifice. 213. The question whether in sermons the Division should usually be expressed or omitted is carefully dis- cussed by Blair (Lect. xxxi.) and by Adams (Lect. xix.) Both are in favor of retaining the statement of the Divi- sion, while F^nelon would omit it. Blair gives these rea- sons : 1. It is an established practice ; 2. It arouses atten- tion ; 3. It aids the hearer to understand and remember ; Proposition and Division. 139 4. It relieves the fatigue of the hearer, as the milestone does that of the traveller. " The appearance of premedita- tion it certainly has," says Adams ; " but, without premedi- tation, to deliver a speech upon a long and complicated argument is not within the compass of human powers." 214. But when the Division is not expressed it must, as we have remarked of the Proposition, be clearly con- ceived by the speaker and carefully remembered. We may add in this place the following suggestions to find a good division : 1. A Complex Proposition contains a Division ready made in one of four ways : 1. Different independent as- sertions are made on the same subject ; e.g., Washington was a hero and a patriot. 2. A general proposition is united with a special one ; e.g., Engage in the war, and do so vigorously. 3. A theoretical truth, with its practical application ; e.g., We have immortal souls and we should save them. 4. A course of action proposed, with the means recom- mended, to which is often added the urgency of prompt measures ; e.g., Assist the Olynthians, by the means which I will point out, and do so at once. II. A Simple Proposition may be proved by arguments classed according to the topics which suggest them : 1. The same topic may suggest different heads ; e.g., the definition : the false views, the true view of the subject. 2. Each topic may furnish a point ; e.g., that the French Revolution of 1790 was an anti-religious movement may be proved from its causes and from its effects. 3. The extrinsic topics may furnish one part and the in- trinsic another ; e.g., we prove the existence of future re- wards and punishments from authority and from reason. 4. Various moral topics afford a classification ; e.g., it is just, necessary, and glorious to defend the oppressed. 140 Development of Thought. III. Divisions are often suggested by the nature of the cause or by various circumstances; e.g., at the bar each charge may require a separate point to answer it. Thus Cicero for Murena : " I understand that there were three parts to the accusation," etc. He divides his speech ac- cordingly into three parts. 215. Whatever Division is chosen, these rules must be observed — viz. (Blair, xxxi ) : 1. The parts should be really distinct, one not including another. Lord Hervey sings : " Of Sapphic, lyric, and iambic odes " ; but Pope reminds him that lyric include Sapphic and iambic. 2. The Division should be obvious, not forced: "We must divide the subject into those parts into which it is most easily and naturally resolved, that it may seem to split itself, not to be violently torn asunder " — Divider e, non frangere. 3. The several members must exhaust the subject — i.e., must exhibit the whole plan. 4. The terms in which our partitions are expressed should be as concise as possible. 5. Avoid any useless multiplication of heads — never more than five, says Adams. " Subdivision," he adds, " may sometimes be graceful, but in general it will pro- duce its effect better by being concealed than disclosed." 216. Of Divisions these examples are much admired by French critics : Massillon, on the words of Christ, consum- matum est — " it is consummated " — says : " This imports the consummation (a) of justice on the part of God, (6) of wickedness on the part of men, (e) of love on the part of Christ." Bourdaloue, on the words, My peace I give unto you, says : " Peace (a) to the understanding by submission to faith, (b) to the heart by submission to the law." CHAPTER IV. ARGUMENTATION— REFUTATION— PATHOS. 217. These three parts are classed together in one chap- ter because they usually occur blended with each other ; for objections are to be refuted where they occur to the minds of the hearers, and pathos is often blended with reasoning and refutation. These three combined form the main body of the speech ; the other parts are ap- pendages more or less useful. These three are intended to enforce the proposition so as to obtain the end intended in the oration. Now, this end is threefold : tQfilease, to instruct or con - vince, and to persuade. These special ends are usually more or less combined in a speech, though one of them is likely to predominate, and sometimes one alone is aimed at. Pleasure is chiefly intended in public lectures, in speeches -at annual commencements, Fourth of July ora- tions, panegyrics, etc. Conviction affects the under- standing, and is predominant at the bar and in dogmatic and controversial lectures. Persuasion affects the heart and the will ; it prevails in speeches before popular as- semblies and legislative bodies, in moral sermons. It in- cludes conviction ; for it is chiefly through the mind that the heart is reached. We shall now consider the chief ways by which we are to convince, to please, and to per- suade our hearers. Article I. Ways to Produce Conviction. 218. The chief ways to produce conviction are Expose t.ion, Reasoning, and Refutation. 142 Development of Thought. § 1. Exposition. Exposition, or Explanation, is of the highest importance in oratory, and is often sufficient by itself to produce con- viction, and even persuasion. An adversary often opposes us, or auditors often remain indifferent, simply because they do not understand the case : explain it well, and we have gained our point. Many great speakers use explanations copiously ; others have a predilection for reasoning, according to the bent of their genius. Thus__Cicero explains more copiously than Demosthenes ; the latter reasons more. We may select as examples of Exposition the four Catilinian speeches of Cicero. In the first, Cicero in the senate exposes, or lays bare, the facts of the conspiracy ; but he introduces frequent reasoning to defend his own conduct. In the second, he exposes the conspiracy before the people in the forum. In the third, also spoken in the forum, he explains the arrest of the conspirators. In the fourth, he explains, in the senate, the two conflict- ing opinions concerning the punishment to be inflicted. This speech is like the summing-up of a judge in an ad- dress to the jury — calm and clear. In the last three of these speeches we have scarcely anything but Exposition. 219. Edmund Burke's cast of mind led him to use Exposition very copiously. " He has left us, indeed," says C. A. Goodrich {Brit. Eloq., p. 240), "some beauti- ful specimens of dialectical ability ; but his arguments, in most instances, consisted of the amplest enumeration and the clearest display of all the facts and principles, the analogies, relations, or tendencies, which were applicable to the case, and were adapted to settle it on the immutable Argumentation — Refutation — Pathos. 1 43 basis of the nature and constitution of things. Here again he appeared of necessity more as a teacher than a logician, and hence many were led to underrate his argumentative powers." His explanation of the resources and circum- stances of the colonies in his Oration on Conciliation with America is a good instance in point. Of William Pitt, on the other hand, Macaulay remarks that he did not suc- ceed in Exposition. 220. Cardinal Newman in this respect appears to us to bear a close resemblance to Edmund Burke. Besides the natural bent of his genius, he has been led to adopt this manner by his position as one of the leading champions of a religion which is still very unpopular in England. Feeling sincerely convinced that the hostility of his countrymen to Catholicity is the effect of rooted prejudices and of a misunderstanding of its doctrines, its history, and its prac- tices, he has incessantly labored, in his speeches and his writings, to explain and expose a multitude of matters, doctrinal and historical, so that his literary productions, so varied and so deservedly esteemed by all parties, abound in Exposition. To point out but one example in a thou- sand, we may refer to the first of his Discourses to Mixed Congregations, and select the passage descriptive of a man who has discarded his religion (pages 8 to n). 221. In the United States the late eloquent lecturer, Father Smarius, S.J., had for a similar reason adopted the same method, and a collection of his principal lectures, styled Points of Controversy, contains many eloquent ex- positions — e.g., the first half of the first lecture, also a rapid sketch of the variations of Protestantism (pages 82-92) and of the unity of the Catholic Church (pages 187-201). 222. A still more recent orator, the Dominican Father T, N, Burke, abounds in powerful Exposition, For in- 144 Development of Thought. stance, in his oration on " The Liberator " he gives a long and graphic account of the state of Ireland anterior to the agitation of O'Connell, and of the manner in which the Catholic Emancipation was obtained (vol. ii. p. 201, etc.) 223. We shall conclude our remarks on Exposition with an extract from Wm, Wirt's Speech in the Trial of Aaron Burr, showing the innocence of Blennerhasset : " Who is Blennerhasset ? A native of Ireland, a man of letters, who fled from the storms of his own country to find quiet in ours. On his arrival in America he retired even from the population of the United States, and sought quiet and solitude in the bosom of our Western forests. But he brought with him taste, and science, and wealth ; and ' lo ! the desert smiled.' Possessing himself of a beautiful isl- and in the Ohio, he rears upon it a palace, and decorates it with every romantic embellishment of fancy. A shrub- bery that Shenstone might have envied blooms around him. Music that might have charmed Calypso and her nymphs is his. An extensive library spreads its treasures before him," etc., etc. (Amer. Eloq., ii. p. 467). § 2. Reasoning. 224, By reasoning we mean that process of the mind by whicfiPone proposition is deduced from the admitted truth of another. ; Formal reasoning is the most ordinary, and usually the most effective, means to produce conviction. Its requisites are : 1. That the principles or starting- points be such as our opponents or our hearers will ad- mit ; 2. That the inference be clearly and logically drawn. In oratory it is not enough that the reasoning can be un- derstood by attentive and intelligent hearers ; it must be so presented that no one can avoid understanding it. Although such a degree of clearness is necessary in every part of a speec h, it is especially proper to call attention to it here. A rgumentation — Refutation — Pathos. 1 45 as reasoning is harder to follow than anything else. We shall mention the common forms which reasoning usually assumes ; the full explanation of them belongs to logic. (See Hill's Elements of Philosophy : Logic, p. i. c. iii.) 225. While the arguments explained in logic are funda- mentally the same as those employed in rhetoric, the sjyle in which they are presented is considerably different. Logic cares little for ornament ; rhetoric is fond of cloth- ing itself to the best advantage. " The ornaments and graces in which oratory studiously attires the muscular form of logic are indulgences to human infirmity," says Adams (Lect. xxi.) They are the honey in which the wholesome draught of instruction must be mingled to make it palatable. 226. 1. The Syll o gism^ is a form of reasoning consisting of three propositions so connected that from two, which are granted, the third one follows. The two granted are called the Premises, the third is the Cqtul&sieiT:' Of the premises, the more general is called the major, the more particular the minor. The force of this argument lies in the fact that the major, which is granted, implicitly affirms the conclusion ; while the minor explicitly declares this re- lation between those two propositions. " Whoever is first in place ought to be first in valor ; " We are the first in place ; " Therefore we ought to be first in valor." Here is the same argument arrayed in poetical splen- Jor : " Why boast we, Glaucus, our extended reign, Where Xanthu's' streams enrich the Lycian plain, Our numerous herds that range the fruitful field, And hills where vines their purple harvest yield, Our foaming bowls with purer nectar crowned, Our feasts enhanced with music's sprightly sound ? 146 Development of Thought. Why on those shores are we with joy surveyed, Admired as heroes, and as gods obeyed, Unless great acts superior merit prove, And vindicate the bounteous powers above ? 'Tis ours the dignity they give to grace ; The first in valor, as the first in place." — Pope's Iliad, b. 12. 227. 2. The EpipMr£matt_£alled the oratorical syllogism, is a syllogism to which is added the proof of the major or of the minor, or of both ; e.g., " To prove Roscius guilty of parricide you must prove him most depraved, for this crime supposes all depravity ; but you can show in him no depravity whatever," etc. (Cicero). Others call an Epi- chirema a reasoning condensed into one sentence, thus : " Can you call Roscius a parricide when you cannot de- tect in him any other crime?" ,,._<, L 228. 3. The Enthym eme is a n abridged syllogism, or a syllogism in which one of the premises is not expressed, but understood ; it is very common in oratory, far more so than the regular syllogism. Thus Cicero says : " Whoever, impelled by no private resentments, stimulated by no personal injurv, instigated by no expectation of reward, undertakes to impeach another before the public tribunals as a criminal of state, ought to weigh well beforehand not only the importance of the immediate task which he as- sumes, but also the rule of morality by which he volun- tarily binds himself for the conduct of his own future life. He who calls to account another man, especially under the profession of having no other motive than the general wel- fare, imposes upon himself the perpetual obligation of in- nocence, of purity, of every social virtue." This, with much further development, is the major, from which, omit- ting the minor, " but I am accusing Verres," Cicero draws the following conclusion : " Thus, by undertaking this im- A rgumentation — Refutation — Pathos. 1 47 peachment, I have prescribed for myself a rule of conduct as directly opposite as possible not only to the deeds and words, but even to those proud looks and that insolent deportment which you have all observed in him." , 229. 4. The_Bilfimma is an argument which presents the /adversary with two or more alternatives, and defeats him with any he may choose. yVm. Pitt reasons thus in favor _ T^abT5its1rm^-tfe«r^Tav'e-trade : " Do the slaves diminish in numbers ? It can be nothing but ill-treatment that causes the diminution. This ill-treatment the abolition must and will restrain. In this case, therefore, we ought to vote for the abolition. On the other hand, do you choose to say that the slaves clearly increase in numbers ? Then you want no importations, and in this case also you may safely vote for the abolition. Or if you choose to say, as the third and only other case that can be put, and which per- haps is the nearest to the truth, that the population is nearly stationary and the treatment neither so bad nor so good as it might be, then surely, sir, it will not be denied that this, of all others, is, on each of the two grounds, the proper period for stopping farther supplies," etc. {Brit. Eloq., p. 582). __2£©r 5r~The Sorites-is an abridged form of a series of syllogisms ; it is a series of propositions so connected that the predicate of the first point becomes the subject of the Second, the predicate of the second becomes the subject of the third, etc., till in the last proposition the predicate of /the preceding is assigned to the subject of the first propo- sition.! You have a playful example of it in the wise rea- -soir-Wnich some precocious scientist in ancient times put in the head of a fox : " Whatever makes a noise moves ; what moves is not frozen hard ; that which is not frozen hard is liquid ; liquid will bend under weight ; therefore if, on trying to cross the ice, I hear the sound of the water beneath, it is not frozen and it will not support me." 148 Development of Thought. 231. 6. Analogy, or Example, is an argument which makes the hearers admit a point on account of its similarity to other points which are granted ;/e.g., " A ship is good, not if nicely-pain4edy^trrif-sa#e--and fast ; a sword is good, not if set with jewels, but if sharp and strong ; so a man is good, not if fair of aspect, but if he lives for that for which he was created." That this argument may be convincing, the examples quoted must be evidently true and bear a clear resemblance to the case in point. We have admira- ble examples of this argument in many of the teachings of our Blessed Saviour ; e.g., " Behold the birds of the air, for they neither sow, nor do they reap, nor gather into barns ; and your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are you not of much more value than they ? . . . Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow," etc. (St. Matt. vi. 26, etc.) Analogy and Examples are not exactly synonymous. In the latter we argue from the similarity of two things ; in the former from the similarity of their relations. 232. 7. " Induction is an argument in which we conclude that because some property or law is true of each indi- vidual of a class, or at least of a sufficiently large number^ of individuals, it is a property or law of the whole class/! It is the great lever of the natural sciences, resting on the assumed fulcrum of the uniformity of nature's laws, and is valid as far as this uniformity is real. Rhetoric applies in- duction rather to the moral order — i.e., to actions depend- ent on the free-will of man ; hence it is more liable to err. Still, within due limits, it is perfectly reliable '; e.g., wit- nesses, under certain conditions, afford infallible certainty. 233. To the arguments so far explained we may add the Argumentum ad hominem. " This," says the Art of Ex- tempore Speaking, " is an enthymeme which overturns an adversary's arguments by his own facts-and words. 7 Tubero brought an accusation against Ligarius that he Bad fought A rgumentation — Refutation — Pathos. 1 49 against Caesar in Africa. Cicero defended Ligarius, and turned the charge against his accuser : ' But, I ask, who says that it was a crime in Ligarius to have been in Africa ? It is a man who himself wanted to be there ; a man who complains that Ligarius prevented him from going, and one who has assuredly borne arms against Caesar. For, Tu- bero, what was that naked sword doing in your hands at the battle of Pharsalia ? Whose breast was its point seek- ing ? What was the meaning of those arms of yours ? Whither looked your purpose ? your eyes ? your hand ? your fiery courage ? What were you craving ? For what were you wishing ? ' This was the passage which so moved Caesar that the act of condemnation of Ligarius dropped from his trembling hand, and he pardoned him " (p. 310). § 3. Refutatio n. 234. " It has been remarked," says J. Q. Adams (Lect. xxii.), " that very moderate abilities are sufficient to qualify an accuser, but that eminence in defensive practice could be attained only by the brightest endowments of eloquence ; and Quintilian gives it as his deliberate opinion that accu- sation is as much easier than defence as it is easier to in- flict than to heal a wound." " Refutation is equally used by both parties to a suit at law ; by all who take a part in public deliberations ; and even by the demonstrative and pulpit orators, although they have no antagonist immediately before them. . . . Confutation is not limited to what the antagonist has ac- tually said. It must often be extended to what he will say, and even to what he may say. ... A panegyrical orator may often be called in the discharge of his duties to defend the character of his hero against prevailing prejudices." 235. After giving us these views of the difficulties and the general usefulness of refutation, Adams cautions us 150 Development of Thought. against three chief errors often committed in this important task. " The first," he says, " may be termed answering_Jpo much ; the second, answering_togJittie j the third, answering yourself and not your opponent.'!. As- to the first error — answsiillg_t©*-mt[Bh — h e remarks : " If you contend against a diffuse speaker who has wasted hour after hour in a lingering lapse of words which had little or no bearing upon the proper question between you, it is incumbent upon you to discriminate between that part of his discourse which was pertinent and that which was superfluous. Nor is it less necessary to detect the artifice of an adversary who purposely mingles a flood of extra- neous matter with the controversy for the sake of disguis- ing the weakness of his cause. . . . This species of manage- ment is not easily discovered, though it is one of the most ordinary resources of sophistry. One of the surest tests by which you can distinguish it from the dropsical expansion of debility is by its livid spots of malignity. It flies from the thing to the person. It applies rather to your passions than to those of your audience. Knowing that anger is rash and undiscerning, it stings you, that it may take off your feelings, your reason, and your active powers from the part you are defending to your own person." In the letters of Junius there are two remarkable examples of this disingenuous artifice — viz., in the controversies with Sir Wm. Draper and Mr. Home. The study of these examples, both in those letters and in the comments of Mr. Adams, is as interesting as it is useful. 236. "To avoid the second fault — answering tooUtil it is as essential to ascertain which are the 'Strong points of your adversary's argument as it is to escape the opposite error of excess. ... If we substitute petulance or scorn for logic the verdict of the jury or the sentence of the court will soon correct our misapprehension. It is in de- A rgumentation — Refutation — Pathos. 1 5 1 liberative assemblies, when party spirit has acquired an overruling ascendency, that this species of perverseness most frequently makes its appearance." 237. " But the most inexcusable of all the errors in con- futation is that of answering^jfluffleif" instead of your ad- versary, which is done whenever you suppress, or mutilate, or obscure, or misstate his reasoning, and then reply, not to his positions, but to those which you have substituted in their stead." Unfairness is ever unworthy of an honorable man ; be- sides, here, as everywhere, honesty is the best policy. Still, we need not state an objection with the same strength as the adversary would state it. For we should not strengthen a falsehood : even in our very statement of an objection we may exhibit its weakness or unsoundness, which was skil- fully hidden by our opponent. 238. As to the order of objections we may suggest the following directions : 1. Those objections should be first attacked which appear to make the most impression on our hearers ; 2. Those refutations should precede which facili- tate those following ; 3. When we cannot refute the strong- est objections triumphantly, we may begin with some weak- er ones, so as to lessen the credit of our opponent ; 4. When we promise to answer a certain objection later on, we should give a good reason for the delay ; 5. If we can take up the refutation in the same order as the objections were pro- posed by our adversary, we thereby gain in clearness and earn the confidence of the audience. But we may have stronger reasons to prefer another order. Demosthenes, challenged by ^Eschines to refute point by point, plainly refuses to do so, claiming his right to follow his own ar- rangement. 239. There are three chief ways of refating^-viz., by de- nying, by distinguishing, and hy~retorttng]ea.c\\ of which we 152 Development of Thought. shall briefly explain. I. We may deny either a statement or a conclusion drawn from it. "TT'We can deny a statement of an opponent, for we are not usually obliged to believe him on his word. If we can disprove some capital asser- tion of an opponent, and scatter all his declamation by a clear citation, we gain a telling advantage. Junius writes to Sir W. Draper : " I wish that you would pay a greater at- tention to the truth of your premises before you suffer your genius to hurry you to a conclusion. Lord Ligonier did not deliver the army (which you, in your classical lan- guage, are pleased to call a Palladium) into Lord Granby's hands. It was taken from him, much against his inclina- tion, some two or three years before." We need not charge our opponent with wilful falsehood, but in a gentlemanly way we may deny his facts. Even when we do not choose to deny his assertion we may often require a proof and in- sist on the principle : Quod gratis asseritur, gratis negatur — " An assertion unsupported by proof goes for nothing," or " The burden of proof lies on the accuser.'' We need not prove a denial ; it is enough to assign some plausible rea- son for denying, and it is reason enough that our opponent has given no proof. 2. We may deny a consequence — i.e., we may grant the statement or allow it to pass, but deny that it proves anything against us. Thus when Cicero charged Verres with having stolen certain articles, and Verres pleaded that he had bought them, Cicero answers by sup- posing that he did buy them, and then shows that this plea does not clear him, as a Roman governor was forbidden by law to buy such articles while in office. 240. II. We distinguish when we grant what is true in the objection and deny" what is false. There is usually something true in an objection ; for men, when not entire- ly blinded by passion, accept a false proposition only on account of the fragmentary truth which it contains. By Argumentation — Refutation — Pathos. 153 drawing the line exactly and clearly between the truth and the falsehood of the objection we are apt to please and convince, conciliating all by granting whatever we can reasonably grant. To deny completely what is only par- tially false damages our cause. The distinction should be expressed exactly, clearly, and strikingly. We can recall no clearer specimen of an objection solved by distinguishing than the following extract from F. Sma- rius (Lect. i.) Objection : " There is good and evil in all religions ; why should I be bound to connect myself with any ? " Answer : " If you mean to say that the principles of all religions are partly true and partly false, you are mistaken ; for then there would be no religion at all. Religion comes from God, not from man ; and nothing false or evil can come from God, who is the sovereign truth and good. If you mean to say that even false religions have some prin- ciples which are good, you are right in the assertion, but wrong in the inference which you draw from it. A religion made up of sheer errors without any basis of truth could scarcely be conceived, much less exist in the world. But it does not follow that a part of the truth is as good to you as the whole, any more than that a quarter of a dollar is of as much value to you as the whole, a maimed limb as good as a sound, a sick body as serviceable as a healthy one, or a little talent as valuable as prominent intellectual gifts or genius. We need the truth in its integrity, not in frag- ments only ; we need the full blaze, not a mere glimpse or gleam. When God reveals he wishes to be believed unreservedly. One word of his is as good as another, one command as binding as another. ... If you wish to say that in all religions there are bad as well as good men, you must make a distinction. That there are good men in false religions, in the sense that the false religion produces good 154 Development of Thought. men, is not true, any more than a fig-tree bears grapes, or the vine figs, or fresh water yields salt. Men are better than their principles, only when they abandon bad for good principles in practice. That there are bad men in the true religion cannot be denied ; but they are bad despite, not in virtue of, their religion," etc. 241. III. We retort an argument of an opponent when we turn it against him. Thus Cicero convicts Verres by turning his own defence into a charge : " To this I hold fast, here I stop " (De Suppl, 64), " with this alone I have enough ; I omit and dismiss all the rest — he must fall by his own testimony. ' You did not know who he was ? you suspected that he was a spy ? I ask not what suspicion you entertained ; I accuse you on your own admission : he said he was a Roman citizen." A Roman citizen could not be lawfully crucified. Verres had no right to set aside the plea of Roman citizenship till it was disproved. 242. There are many other ways of mee^mgobjections ; e.g : 1. Not minding the objection, we may attack_the_ob- jector, lessening his credit by showing his ignorance or bacTTaith, as Demosthenes often treats his opponent, ^Es- chines. Cicero reproaches Rullus with obscurity, Piso with puerility, Anthony with ignorance of the subject, with impropriety of expression, and with insipidity. O'Connell, in his speech for Magee, made a vigorous onslaught on Saurin, the attorney-general {Gramm. of Eloq., 428). 2. We may op$.as£_ stronge robjections. 3. We may make the objection — ridiculous or odious. Ridicule, however, is a dangerous, two-edge3"weapoh," , but often very efficient. Cicero uses it to great advantage in his oration for Murena, good-naturedly ridiculing the ex- travagance of the Stoic philosophers, and thus lessening the authority of Cato and repelling his attacks as unwarranted. 4. We may use the reductio ad absurdum — i.e., point out A rgumentation — Refutation — Pathos. 1 5 5 absurd consequences as following from our opponent's ar- gument. 243. As specimens of vigorous refutations we may refer to Grattan's Invective against Corry (Goodrich's Brit. Eloq., P- 397), Chatham's Reply to Walpole (ib. p. 81), Shiel's Reply to Lord Lyndhurst (Speech on the Municipal Cor- poration Bill). 244. We should not omit pointing out the fallacies— which it is important for an orator to unmask in the argu- ments of his opponent ; these are the principal : 1. lgn°- ratio elenchi, or mistaking_the jjuestjfin. Prentiss, in his argmneTTT^Betore the House of Representatives on the Mississippi contested election — a speech which continued for three days and won enthusiastic applause — makes his exordium by guarding against an ignoratio elenchi : " The first use I shall make of the privilege accorded to me will be to set the House right as to the attitude of the ques- tion ; for I perceive that many members labor under a mis- apprehension on this point, and I am anxious that the position I occupy in the matter should be distinctly under- stood," etc. Webster, in his rejoinder to Hayne, on Foot's Resolution, begins by calling for the reading of the resolu- tion, and then shows that the real question was entirely ignored by his opponent (see Amer. Eloq., ii. p. 370). 245. 2. Petitio principii, or beggin g the q uestion in- stead of proving 11 — viz., when in the apparent proof the speaker takes that for granted which he ought to be prov- ing. Thus some scientists, to prove that order may be the result of unintelligent forces, argue that the order so con- spicuous in all the Creation is the result of the blind forces of nature ; they take for granted the very point denied by common sense — that anything orderly can exist without an intelligent ordain er. 246. The vicious circle differs from the petitio principii in 156 Development of Thought. this : that the latter proves A by A, the circle proves A by B and B by A. 247. 3. Post hoc, ergo propter hoc, or non causa pro causa. This fallacy attributes a fact to a false cause, arguing erroneously that because one thing happened after another, therefore it was caused by the other. Thus the pagans ascribed the calamities that befell the Roman Empire to the rise of Christianity (vide St. Aug., De Civ. Dei, 1. i.) 248. 4. False analogy, defective induction, incomplete enumeration, false assumption, ambiguity of terms, are so many other fallacies, whose very names express their na- ture sufficiently, and hence need no further explanation. Article II. Ways to Please or Conciliate. 249. The pleasure whicnTKe^h«M^rs_-4eTrve from an excellent oration results ^fronua-v4udety_of^ causes all har- moniously blended together ; as the beauty of a garden, or a painting, or a group of statuary does not consist in one or two features only, but in the excellence of all the details and the perfect proportion in which the whole is combined. It is the same with all the works of art, and in particular with the productions of eloquence. The beauty of an oration, and consequently the pleasure which it is able to impart, implies great perfection in all particulars — felicity in the invention and choice of proofs ; a happy ar- rangement or combination of the parts ; richness and clear- ness of development ; elegant and appropriate expression — so that not only conviction or persuasion is attained where either of these is intended, but their success is accom- plished with a certain gracefulness or splendor which can- not but delight the audience. I Cicero writes {De Or., 3, 4) : ""Those two are easy parts which have just been explained, propriety and clearness ; the others are great, intricate, varied, weighty, in which originate all admiration for genius A r gumentation — Refutation — Pathos. 1 5 7 and all the glory of eloquence. No one has ever admired an orator because he spoke correct Latin ; if he did not they would laugh at him. . . . What, then, sends a thrill of pleasure through the hearers ? on what speaker do they gaze with amazement * whom do they applaud ? whom do they look upon as almost a god among men ? It is he who speaks distinctly, elegantly, copiously, luminously in thoughts and words, and who pours forth his oration with a certain melody and poetic numbers." 250. Of all sources of pleasure there is probably not one more agreeable to the audience than fo a tt fy & IL style. B_u£_ of style we are to treat in its^ proper .place. Here we wish to consider three other means of pleasing or conciliating our hearers, which we may term respectively oratori cal ornaments, politeness, and oratorical precautio us. § 1. Oratorical Ornaments. 251. By orator-ic al ornam ents we mean certain passages introduced into a speech for the express purpose of pleas- ing the hearers. \ Cicero jjjjfc-fchem -UlusiLHiiaaf s i f° r which our "English term Illustrations is not an exact equivalent. Both words imply light Tnd beauty ;. but in the Latin term it is 6eaut^ _v/hich is made, prominent, and in the English it is light. Of these Illustrationes, or oratorical ornaments, rhetoricians usually enumerate seven — similitudes, exampies, fables^Juirable's, aphor isms, digressions, and pleasantry. Of most of these enough was said when we treated of the topics. We shall here add a few remarks on Di gressi ons and Pleas antri es, to which we shall add some suggestions on Transitions. 252. B y Digressio ns we sometimes mean such passages as[ deviate from the main subject or purpose of the speech td gain some present advantage aimed at for its own sake. fT\^ this meaning Digressions are not ornaments ; they are ora- 158 Development of Thought. torical licenses, rather tolerated on account of usefulness than admired for their beauty./ ThuiTDemosthenes, while speaking on other matters, often inveighs against the Mace- donian party in Athens, letting pass no occasion of brand- ing them with infamy. But a Digression is an ornament when it departs from the subject for the sake of pleasing the audience, with a view to gain more readily the precise end intended in the ' whole oration. (Thus Cicero, on the Manili an Law y-kayes aside for a while the praise of Pompey to extol Lucullus, and thus gain the suppprt of his adherents.--' These Digressions often consist- in" elegant descriptions or word-paintin g^ and their- -immediate effect is an increase of attention and a religfj Vf the weariness of the audience. When the thoughts thus introduced are as noble as the style, these are like the gems adorning the golden chain of argument, adding little to its solidity, no doubt, but much to its beauty. Such is the praise of Liberty by Macaulay : " Ariosto tells a pretty story of a fairy who, by some mysterious law of her nature, was condemned to appear at certain seasons in the form of a foul and poisonous snake. Those who injured her during the period of her disguise were for ever excluded from par- ticipation in the blessings which she bestowed. But to those who, in spite of her loathsome aspect, pitied and pro- tected her she afterwards revealed herself in the beautiful and celestial form which was natural to her, accompanied their steps, granted all their wishes, filled their houses with wealth, made them happy in love and victorious in war. Such a spirit is Liberty. At times she takes the form of a hateful reptile. She grovels, she hisses, she stings. But woe to those who in disgust shall venture to crush her ! And happy are those who, having dared to receive her in her degraded and frightful state, shall at length be reward- ed by her in the time of her beauty and glory," Argumentation — Refutation — Pathos. 1 59 253. Pleasantries gain favor : (a) By putting the hearers in good-humor ; A^K§y showing the speaker to advantage as a man of quick wit ; N (<") By discomfiting an opponent, often despatching with a laugh objections which it would be irk- some to answer seriously. , Pleasantry may be of two kinds — witty sayings, or witti- cisms, and ridicule ; the latter raises a laugh at the expense of setae-person or thing. The matter of ridicule should be con- fined to the minor faults or follies of men who are neither specially beloved, nor unfortunate, nor highly criminal. Great care should be taken not to wound those for whom the blow was not intended ; else we might fare like the law- yer who ridiculed the diminutive stature of his opponent, not remembering that the judge was still more diminutive. Besides, whoever ridicules others must be prepared to be ridiculed ; the dart is often shot back, as it was to the archer who had written on his arrow, " To the right eye of Philip." Nor should an orator ever stoop to the buffoonery of a clown in vulgar jests or postures ; he should show his modesty by hinting rather than developing what is ridiculous. 254. A Transition is a sentence or two used to pass natu- rally from one argument or part of speech to another. I " The same natural aversion of mankirTd to abruptness at the com- mencement or close of an oration, which has established the custom of opening with an exordium and of ending with a peroration, has erected these bridges over the various inlets which intersect the different regions of the province." '^Transition s, fully displayed, contribute to p erspicuity, and ' Cicero employs them the most formally uporTtrTose~orations where he was most solicitous to make his meaning clear and his discourse memorable to all his hearers — in his first ora- tion at the bar, that for Quinctius, and his__first_oration to the_ people for th e^[ anilian La w '' (Adams, Lect. xxiii. 255. The transitions of a speech should be varied; some- 160 Development of Thought. times they explicitly refer to both parts, which they unite ; e.g., " Sir, the honorable gentleman having spoken what he thought necessary upon the narrow part of the sub- ject, I have given him, I hope, a satisfactory answer. He next presses me, by a variety of direct challenges and ob- lique reflections, to say something on the historical part. I shall therefore, sir, open myself fully on that important and delicate subject " (Edmund Burke on American Taxation). Sometimes transitions refer to one point only ; e.g., " The revenue act formed the fourth period of American policy " (ib.) " I pass, therefore, to the colonies in another point of view — their agriculture " (On Conciliation with America). Variely_is- obtained by the use of various figures ; e.g., by correction, pretention, objection, etc. We add a few exam- ples : " Ah ! but Bonaparte has declared it as his opinion that the two governments, France and England, cannot exist together " (Fox). " Perhaps, however, my honorable friends may take up another ground, and say," etc. (Pitt). '' And what were the explanations they offered on these different grounds of offence ? " (id.) .'" Since I have spoken of the nature of the war, I will say a -few. words on its mag- nitude " (Cicero). . ___-Ardarm-s-qi±etesj5|ith much admiration these poetical tran- sitions from Milton : " The angel ended, and in Adam's ear So charming left his voice that he awhile Thought him still speaking, still stood fixed to hear; Then, as new waked, thus gracefully replied." — Par. Lost, vii. I. " As one who in his journey bates at noon, Though bent on speed, so here the archangel paused Betwixt the world destroyed and world restored, If Adam aught perhaps might interpose; Then, with transition sweet, new speech resumes." — Ib. xii. I. A rgumentation — Refutation — Pathos. 1 6 1 § 2. Politeness . 256. Politeness on the part of the orator, besides remov- ing whatever could prejudice or alienate the hearers, has 1 many positiifi_ad«Hrtages. It secures : 1. A polite atten- tion ; 2. Respect for all the orator's just claims ; 3. Defe- rence to his opinion in return for the deference he shows to others ; 4. Docility, arising from a sense of his supe- riority. For we all feel respect for a perfect gentlemajv and we allow ourselves more easily to be convinced and persuaded by one whom we have learned to esteem and love. 257. In this accomplishment, as in most other matters, Cicero is a distinguis hed mod el for imitation ; he some- time^^eeTns~ainrosrTo~ o"verdo it by s howing what might ap- pear excessi ve regard for the _jr p j nf1l ' rp<:! "^ ^paknpsses of his hearers. But, provided we commit no moral wrong, as false~pra1se _ or flattery would be, we are not apt to be misled by imitating so great a master. In particular we may call attention to several passages of his plea for Murena, §§ I., II., Ill, V., VI., X., XL, XII., XIII. In his oration for Marcellus the first part resembles flat- tery, and we wonder at first how so noble a character as Cicero can stoop to such eulogy of Caesar, whom he had opposed on principle ; but the second part abundantly atones for this apparent fault by a polite but masterly re- monstrance against all further prosecutions : he reads Cae- sar a lesson which needed such an introduction. T — ' 258. Politeness, or^gflod ^ mann ers, implies a proper mix- ture of respeet-fofself andjrespect for other§3 Cicero has defined it : Scientia eanimj^rum_£ua_jige'nmr~^uii_^entur suo loco collaca^dammJ^_,Ojf.^r^) — " The art of doing and saying things seaso nably. " It regards all situations in life, and it should guide the orator in all the departments 1 62 Development of Thought. of his art. Caput artis est decere, quod ta?nen unum arte tradi non potest (De Or., i. 29) — " The chief point of his art is tact, and this one point art cannot teach."___ _-— - --- 259. Politeness contains two parts, one natural and one conventional. The c onventiona l part can be acquired by all, and should be carefully studied as far as is expected from each one's station in society. It is usually cal led Eti - quette. Its application to oratory is limited : it requires ftrairthe speaker should have regard for the reasonable cus- toms prevailing in the place where he speaks, such espe- cially as imply respect for his audience : for instance, to I be properly introduced, if he is a stranger ; to address offi>~ cials by their proper titles, a promiscuous assembly in the approved fashion of the place ; to observe in an organized assembly the general rules of order or parliamentary law, as laid down in Jefferson's Manual, Cushing's Manual, Rob- erts' Rules of Order, etc. 260. The rmturaLpart consists in a certain tact by which /a person sees or feels instinctively, as it were, what will con- ciliate others, and what may in the least ruffle their feelings. It is inborn, being a part of judgment, and exists in dif- ferent persons in different degrees of perfection. It is very capable of improvement, especially in early years. 261. Even in later years it may be much improved : 1. By the exercise of the sqcialjdriJies, chiefly of universal kindness, which will at least prevent many offencesHpand of modesty, which keeps a man in his proper place, avoid- ing forwardness and sallies of ill-nature or of vanity. Cice- ro's habit of self-gratulation would be insupportable in a Christian who professes to act for higher motives than mere earthly glory ; but even Cicero takes ca re, yhilp ^valt- ing himself, never 'to.. humble hisjhearers. For, after all, the secret of Fhe pleasure produced by politeness lies in the respect shown for the feelings of those present ; the defe- A rgumentation — Refutation — Pathos. 163 rence and modesty of a gentleman are a delicate compli- ment to his audience. 262. 2. By attention to politejaaaiiCTB~aBd^ address in priva te life . The best rule is to avoid doing whatever we"^ notice to be offensive in the conduct of others : Fit enim, nescio quomodo, ut magis in aliis cernamus, quam in nobismel ipsis si quid delinquitur ( De Off ., i. 41) — "For, some way or other, it happens that we notice mistakes in others more than in ourselves." ^^~ 263. 3. By observance of these prec epts for public spea k- ing: (a) Never overdo anything. M agis offendit nimium gufltn parum ( Or. 22) — " Excess is more offensive than defect " "^TpConsider what becomes your age, condition in life, etc. Thus a priest should speak in the pulpit, a judge in his chair sicutj^etiaiemjiizhcns — as one having power — but never unkindly, overbearingly, or rudely. Nor should any one assume such superiority as the hearers do not most willingly concede to him ; {c) Have a proper regard for the weaknesses, and even for the prejudices, of your hearers ; (d) See what suits the place and the time. \, 264. Many striking specimens of Christian politeness are found in the Epistles of St. Paul. These are couched in the language of fervent zeal, tempered by an admirable modesty and charity ; he praises freely what is right, thus making his reproofs more acceptable. We may refer in particular to Philippians i. 1-19 ; 1 Corinthians i. 1-14 ; 2 Corinthians ii. 1-9. Among the moderns the very mention of the word polite- ness recalls to mind the accomplished and graceful Lord Chesterfield, the skilful diplomatist, whose chief power, and the source of no -unimportant service rendered to his coun- try, lay in his exquisite politeness. Chesterfield's Letters to 164 Development of Thought. his Son are unfortunately disfigured, as Goodrich remarks {Brit. Eloq., p. 45), by a profligacy of sentiment which has cast a just odium on his character. In the letters of Cicero, the correspondence of George Washington, of which some choice selections are found in Irving's Life of Washington, there are exquisite specimens of politeness. In oratory we shall find numerous examples in any of our great orators, especially in the exordiums of their speeches ; for instance, in the Introduction of Webster's address on occasion of a reception tendered him at Boston, in which the modesty of the distinguished orator is no less charm ing than the warmth of his affection. § 3. Oratorical Precautions. 265. Oratorical Precautions are such special precautions as the orator uses to avoid giving offence in circumstances of peculiar delicacy. 266. 1. When we are compelled by necessity to .bl ame our hearers, (a) We redouble our kindness ; (l>) We put the mosriavbrable construction on their actions and their in- tentions ; (c) We limit the blame to as few persons as pos- sible ; (a) We blame with evident reluctance. 267. 2. When we are to speak of aj aublic misf ortune we should never seem to rejoice ; but we enter into the senti- ments of the hearers and yield only to necessity. Thus Cicero, in his oration on the Manilian Law, wishing to show how complete was the defeat of Lucullus, effects his ob- ject most strikingly by a single phrase, which he adorns with the figures of omission and simile. " Allow me in this place," he says, " to do like the poets, and say no- thing of our calamity, which was so great that the news of it was brought to the ears of Lucullus, not by a messen- ger from the field of battle, but by a vague rumor." 268. 3. With regard to opponents, we should remember A rgumentation — Refutation — Pathos. 1 65 that we can never hope to persuade those whom we offend, nor their friends and followers. J A skilful speaker rarely gives reasons for offence, even to his enemies, much less to any others. Thus Cicero, in defending Murena, had to oppose Cato and Sulpicius ; but he knew how to refute them, even causing the court to be convulsed with laugh- ter at their expense, and yet without offence. Still, there are cases in which it is a duty to break entirely with men and parties, and to treat them unsparingly, as Cicero does with Verres, Catiline, Antony, and the Clodians ; with these he considered that any milder course would have been unmanly and unpatriotic. In such cases we cannot hope to influence them except by fear ; but we may gain our audience to sympathize with us in our opposition. 269. 4. The pulpit orator must attack error and vice fear- lessly, as it is his sacred office ; but he must do it prudent- ly. Hence when he deals with common errors and vices he can safely be bold and strong ; though even then it is easy to exceed by condemning totally what can partly be excused. But when the errors or vices belong to certain distinct classes of men he must use the greatest caution. In particular he must not seem to apply to the whole class what may be the fault of only some individuals. Particu- lar persons should not, under any circumstance, be at- tacked from the pulpit, though their arguments may be refuted if it be thought proper. The errors of pernicious sects may be, and oftfcn must be, exposed ; but the persons belonging to those sects should not be sweepingly accused of bad faith or want of intelligence, nor be held up to ridi- cule, though their leaders may be often deservedly chas- tised. 270. 5. When adverse passions animate the hearers one way is to overawe them ; but this is rarely possible, except with persons of little intelligence. The other way is to 1 66 Development of Thought. enter partly into their sentiments, then either to turn the same passion against a different object, or change the passion itself into another, as St. Chrysostom did in his masterly oration for Eutropius. Or we may do both together, as the same orator did in the speech of Flavian to Theodosius. 271. 6. When the hearers are determined to remanr un- moved, say to pity, they may be thrown off their guard by woFEmg on some other passion to which they are prone. Thus Cicero, wishing to move Caesar to pity Ligarius, and knowing he was v determined not to pardon, began his at- tack on the heart of Caesar through the passion of self-com- placency. 272. The discourses of St. Chrysostom are exquisite speci- mens of eloquence, and particularly suited to exemplify the use of oratorical precautions. Eutropius had persecuted the Church when prime minister of Arcadius ; disgraced by the emperor and in danger of death, he had fled for refuge to the cathedral of Constantinople. The people demanded his death. The bishop attempts to appease them, and even to prevail on them to intercede with the emperor for the pardon of the fallen minister. He begins by entering into the feeling of his hearers — viz., of joy at the fall of their persecutor — but he gradually works on their pity and on their Christian principles, saying : " Believe me, I relate not this to insult and triumph over his fall, but that I may soften your hearts' rough surface, may infuse one drop of pity, and persuade you to rest satisfied with his present an- guish. Since there are persons in this assembly who even reproach my conduct in admitting him to the altar, to smooth the asperity of their hearts I unfold the history of his woes. Wherefore, O my friend ! art thou offended ? Because, thou wilt reply, the Church shelters the man who waged an incessant war against it. But this is the especial reason for which we should glorify our God, be- Argumentation — Refutation — Pathos. 167 cause He has permitted him to stand in so awful a neces- sity as to experience both the power and clemency of the Church — the power of the Church, because his continued persecutions have drawn down this thunderbolt on his head ; and her clemency, because, still bleeding from her wounds, she extends her shield as a protection, she covers him with her wings, she places him in an impregnable se- curity, and, forgetting every past circumstance of ill, she makes her bosom his asylum and repose," etc. After a while Chrysostom noticed that tears were flowing freely from the eyes of his auditors ; then he added : " Have I excited your compassion ? Yes, those tears that are flow- ing from your eyes sufficiently attest it. Now that your hearts are affected and an ardent charity has melted their icy hardness, let us go in a body to cast ourselves at the feet of the emperor, or rather let us pray that the God of mercy may appease him, that he may grant an entire par- don." The people were appeased for a time. 273. When Flavian, Bishop of Antioch, appeared before the Emperor Theodosius to beg pardon for his people, who were then under sentence of death for having dragged the emperor's statue through the mud in mutiny, he be- gins by confessing the whole guilt without any excuse ; he mourns over the blindness and the present distress of his people ; he describes the triumph of Satan in ruining so noble and so beloved a city, and does not speak of par- don till Theodosius has been moved to compassion and generosity. His success was complete. 274. It happens not rarely that able and well-meaning speakers and writers needlessly pain their friends, and make themselves many enemies, by an ignorance or a dis- regard of these oratorical precautions. On the other hand, a delicate regard for the feelings and the prejudices of their very opponents exhibited by such illustrious men as 1 68 Development of Thought. Cardinals Wiseman, Manning, and Newman has largely contributed to the veneration in which they are so deserv- edly held by the English-speaking world, and to the power- ful influence which their speeches and writings have exer- cised even on their bitterest adversaries. As an example of this I may refer to the conclusion of Cardinal Man- ning's Reply to Gladstone's attack on the Vatican Coun- cil : " And now there only remains to me the hardest and saddest part of my task, which has not been sought by me, but has been forced on me. A few months ago I could not have believed that I should have written these pages. I have never written anything with more pain, and none of them have cost me so much as that which I am about to write. Thus far I have confined myself to the subject- matter of Mr. Gladstone's pamphlet ; but before I end I feel bound by an imperative duty to lay before him, in be- half of his Catholic fellow-countrymen, the nature of the act which he has done," etc. {Battle of the Giants, p. 210). 275. It is as instructive as it is painful to read the ac- count given by Goodrich {British Eloquence, pp. 232-234) of the breach between Edmund Burke and Fox, which was brought about in the British Parliament by the latter's neglect of the precepts just given — an occurrence which severed the bonds of friendship between these two states- men so totally that even on his death-bed Burke refused the interview which Fox solicited in the kindest terms. ARTICLE III. Ways_ TO_IVTavE — tip Pirn stt A ny. 276. We are now entering on the consideration of ajniUt-" ter in whigh-the-power- of a sp eaker is chiefly to be ex- erted ; by conspicuous success in this particular he is properly denominated an orator. Probare necessitatis est, delectare suavitqtis, flecter e victoria. — " To convince isT^a matter of necessity, to~pIease is the part of refinement, to Argumentation — Refutation — Pathos. 1 69 move is the triumph of eloquence.^ And again : " Since, among all the attributes of eloquence, the greatest by far is the power of firing the minds of the auditors and of bending them at pleasure in any direction, who will not grant that the speaker who is destitute of this power is wanting in the most important element of success ? " (Cic, Brutus, 80). The same is the view of Quintilian {Inst., vi. 2) : " Let the orator direct all his exertions to this point ; let him fasten most obstinately upon it, without which everything else is slender, feeble, and ungracious. So true it is that the strength and the soul of a pleader's discourse centre in the passions." 277. However, when we come to examine with a critical eye the reasons why the ancients were so enthusiastic in their praise of impassioned eloquence, we cannot fail to perceive that, with them, the field open to najjhos was far more extensive than it is with us. Every" "orator must adapt himself to his own circumstances of time and place ; and in the matter of pathos circumstances among the moderns have made some very important changes. With- out detracting in the least from the praise of impassioned discourse whenever it is admissible, and while maintain- ing that admiration for this kind of eloquence is rooted in human nature, and therefore common to all phases of civilization, we must point out two characteristic differ- ences on this subject between ancient and modern times. Attention to these variations is of the highest importance, especially to classical students, who, to the great advan- tage of modern literature, seek for inspiration from the masterpieces of Greek and Roman eloquence. 278. The first difference affects the very nature of an- cient pleadings at the bar, as compared with those of mod- ern times. Among the ancients judicial pleadings offer as I 70 Development of Thought. wide a scope for impassioned discourse as any other spe- cies of orations. In fact, we find that Quintilian had judi- cial oratory chiefly in his mind when he wrote the praises of pathetic language. He says {Inst. vi. 2) : " There is perhaps nothing so important as this in the whole art of oratory. An inferior genius, with the aid of instruction and experience, may succeed and appear to great advantage in all other parts. You can easily find men able to invent ar- guments and proofs, and even to link them together in a chain of deduction. These men are not to be despised. They are well qualified to inform the judges, to give them a perfect insight into the cause — nay, to be patterns and teachers of all your learned orators. But the talent of de- lighting, of overpowering the judge himself, of ruling at pleasure his very will, of inflaming him with anger, of melt- ing him to tears — that is a rare endowment indeed. Yet therein consists the true dominion of the orator ; therein consists the power of eloquence over the heart. As for ar- guments, they proceed from the bosom of the cause itself, and are always the strongest on the right side. To obtain the victory by means of them is merely the success of a common lawyer ; but to sway the judge in spite of himself, to divert his observation from the truth when it is unpropi- tious to our cause — this is the real triumph of an orator. . . . No sooner does the judge begin to catch our passions and to share our hatreds and friendships, indignations and fears, than he makes our cause his own. And as lovers are ill- qualified to judge of beauty, because blinded by their pas- sion, so in like manner the judge, amidst his perturbations, loses the discernment of truth. The torrent hurries him along, and he gives himself up to its violence," etc. 279. Who does not feel that this view of the matter is in- compatible with our idea of legal justice ? Happily our laws are far more perfect than those of the ancient pagans ; Argumentation — Refutation — Pathos. 1 7 1 this is one of the many departments of modern civilization in which the influence of Christianity has produced the most beneficial results. What rhetorician would think, at present, of teaching any artifice which should make " the judge catch our passions, share our hatreds and friendships, indignations and fears, so that he shall make our cause his own " ? "Our judges," as Adams remarks (Lect. xvi.), "are sworn to administer justice according to the law. Our juries are under oaths equally solemn to give their verdicts according to the evidence ; and even the attorneys and counsellors practising in all the courts are under like en- gagement to do no wrong, and to suffer none knowingly to be committed. That which Quintilian tells us to be the most splendid triumph of the art would, therefore, now be a high misdemeanor, and the judge who should suffer his sentence to be diverted from the truth, and should join in the hatreds and friendships of one party against another, would soon get himself removed by impeachment." 280. There certainly are, and always will be, in judicial oratory occasions when the most impassioned eloquence is as appropriate and desirable as it ever was or as it can be in any orations. For innocence must be defended and im- portant rights must be maintained against unjust assailants. Such cases will and must inspire the orator with earnest- ness, and even passion, as warm as it is sacred and effica- cious. But such circumstances are now comparatively rare. Even when they do present themselves the tone of the modern pleader will differ considerably from that of ancient advocates. They appealed directly to the heart of their judges ; he must ever presume, or at least appear to feel convinced, that judge and jury look at nothing but the jus- tice of the cause, and in his warmest passion he must seem to aim at nothing but conviction. The few points which 172 Development of Thought. are really left to the judge or jury's discretion will be after- wards considered in our chapter on Judicial Oratory. 281. The second difference is thus referred to by Quincy Adams : " The Christian system of morality has likewise produced an important modification of the principles re- garding the use of the passions. In the passage (above quoted from Quintilian) no distinction is made between the kindly and malevolent passions. Neither does Aristotle in- timate such a distinction. Envy, hatred, malice, and indig- nation are recommended to be roused, as well as love, kind- ness, and good-will. The Christian morality has command- ed us to suppress the angry and turbulent passions in our- selves, and forbids us to stimulate them in others. This precept, like many others proceeding from the same source, is elevated so far above the ordinary level of human virtue that it is not always faithfully obeyed. But although per- haps not completely victorious over any one human heart, the command to abstain from malice and envy and all the rancorous passions has effected a general refinement of manners among men." 282. We should not, however, understand Adams to con- demn all manner of anger, for he tells us in another place that this passion has its proper uses. But speaking of vi- cious emotions, this judicious rhetorician adds : "Addresses to the malevolent passions are not necessary to the highest efforts of eloquence. To convince yourselves of this truth compare the oratorical compositions of Burke with the let- ters of Junius. They have been sometimes ascribed to the same author, and there are many particulars in which the resemblance between them is remarkable. They are both writers of ardent passion and high vehemence. But in re- gard to the motives and feelings which they strive to ex- cite they differ as widely as possible. Burke was upon principle and conviction a Christian. He had examined its Argumentation — Refutation — Pathos, i J 3 evidences, and compared its moral system with every other known theory of ethics. The result of his investigation was a conviction of the truth of Christianity, and its laws of general benevolence and charity appear in every page of his writings. The blaze of passion, the bolt of indignation, flash with incessant energy from his controversial speeches and publications, but the tone and character of his sentiment is invariably generous and benevolent. All his maxims of wisdom, all his remarks upon life and manners, beam with humanity, with good-will to men. Junius was probably infected with the shallow infidelity of the French Encyclo- pedists. He seldom suffers an opportunity for a sarcasm upon religion to escape him ; and he always speaks of piety with a sneer, as if it conveyed to his mind no image other than that of hypocrisy. Yet he dares not avow his infi- delity, and, when directly charged with it, shuffles with the dexterity of a rope-dancer, and cavils with the subtlety of a sophist, to disclaim an offence which at the same moment he repeats. It is obvious from the general tenor of his letters that Christian principles were as foreign from his heart as Christian doctrines from his understanding. His eloquence is unshackled by any restraint of tenderness for his species. He flatters the foulest prejudices. He pan- ders to the basest passions," etc. 283. Still, after all proper allowances are made for the difference between the ancient and modern uses of passion in oratory, we find that the importance of this subject is very great for the practical purposes of eloquence in all ages ; and the matter is as difficult as it is important. In explaining it we shall consider : 1. The passions of the human heart in themselves ; 2. The chief means which may be employed to arouse them, and through them to affect the will of the hearers ; 3. The expression of excited pas- 1 74 Development of Thought. § i. On the Passions in Themselves. 284. The thorough study of the passions belongs to Phi- losophy (see Rev. W. Hill's Moral Philosophy, p. i. c. iv.); we shall view them here in as far only as they are at the service of the orator. Thejmssions, according to Aris- totle's Rhetoric (ii. 1), are " emotions on which pleasure or \ pain are consequent, and by which men are influenced in ] their decisions." In English the term passion is usually confined to strong feelings prompting to action, as Webster's Dictionary expresses it ; and the same authority adds : " When any feeling or emotion completely masters the mind we call it passion." But the ancients comprised under the term passions (Quintilian, vi. 2) not only the more violent emotions, which they called nadr] — whence our term pathetic — but also the gentler feelings, or "Hdtf, by which they meant those social virtues and habits of politeness which we have treated in a former para- graph. We shall here consider the stronger emotions only, taking the word passion in its ordinary English meaning. 285. The pleasure and the pain of which Aristolle-speaks as consequent upon these emotions arise from the appre- hension of good and evil j for a man tends instinctively to what his imagination presents to him as good, and he shrinks from what it presents as evil. Hence come im- mediately six passions, viz.: From the apprehension of good arises complacency or love j From the apprehension of future good arises a wish or desire ; From the apprehension of present good arises pleasure or joy ; From the apprehension of evil arises dislike or hatred j \ Argumentation — Refutation — Pathos. 1 75 From the apprehension of future evil arises flight or aversion ; j_Frpm the apprehension of present evil arises pain or sadness. These six passions proceed directly from our instinctive longing (co^£upiscentia)_£or good and instinctive shrink- ing from eviTEfence they are called the co ncnpiscib le p assio ns ; but this term does not here imply anything inor- dinate. Together with the apprehension of good and evil, we often apprehend tUfjiculty in attaining good and avoid- ing evil. With respect to such difficulty man experiences a second set of passions, called the irascible passions. hese are five in number : ** * • From the apprehension of attainable good arises hope ; From the apprehension of unattainable good arises de- spair ; From the apprehension of evil that is difficult to avoid arises fear ; From the apprehension of evil that is not difficult to avoid arises courage ; From the apprehension of present evil arises anger. ■ (SlTThomas, Summa, i° 2", q. 23.) These eleven may be considered as simple passions ; all the others take their rise from them. For instance : intense pleasure becomes delight ; intense hatred, horror or abomination ; intense sadness, dejection ; sorrow over another's evil is pity j over another's good, envy; hope and courage when excessive become presumption and rash- ness ; fear becomes cowardice ; anger changes into fury and madness. Aristotle devotes the first seventeen chapters of his sec- j jond book on Rhetoric to a thorough and most ingenious Examination of various passions, considering in what classes 1 76 Development of Thought. of persons and under what circumstances they are apt to arise and by what process they may be enkindled. The passions with which the orator is chiefly concerned are enumerated by Cicero as follows (De Or., ii. 51): love, hatred, anger, envy, pity, hope, joy, fear, and displeasure. 286. The orator should carefully consider whether his subject will admit of passion. The gentler emotions are always appropriate, not in public speaking only, Bttt in all kinds of literary compositions.} Even scientific treatises rise to the dignity of literature when they are permeated with proper sentiments : witness the philosophical writings of Plato and Cicero, which are as soothing to th<: heart as they are instructive to the mind ; while a mere text-book from which all sentiment is excluded must derive all its in- terest exclusively from intellectual sources. But the stron ger e motions or passions must no£ be em- ployed on every subject. They are, of course, inopportune in trifling matters, and they can rarely be used to advan- tage before hostile hearers. For there is nothing more ab- surd than for a speaker to give himself up to passion when his hearers do not share his emotion. Even when the vio- lent passions find a proper place they should be t emper ed with gentlerfjelings. You must " use all gently," as Ham- let instructs the players to do ; " for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, the whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness.'' " Oh ! it offends me to the soul," he adds, and the warning is not out of place for orators, " to hear a robustious, periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags," etc. Still, we may add with Shakspeare : " Be not too tame either ; but let your own discretion be your tutor." I The rule of tempering the stronger with the gen- ^le^ernotions had, long before Shakspeare's time, been laid down by Cicero in his treatise £>e Orator a (ii. 53). Argumentation — Refutation — Pathos. 1 77 § 2. The Chief Ways of Arousing the Passions, 287. As the passions arise from what appears good or evil, it is the task of the orator, when he desires to arouse any passion in his hearers, to present th e_gflod-or— the evil strikingly to the minds of his auditors. His chief talent will lie in this, to make his hearers apprehend vividly the good or the evil, so as to arouse the proposed passions. For the passions, though to some extent under the control of the will, usually act instinctively, and to a certain extent necessarily, on the apprehension of their proper objects. '' To every emotion or passion," says Blair (Lect. xxxii.), " nature has adapted a set of corresponding objects, and without setting these before the mind it is not in the power of any orator to raise that emotion. I am warmed with gratitude, I am touched with compassion, not when a speaker shows me that these are noble dispositions and that it is my duty to feel them, or when he exclaims against me for my indifference and coldness. He must describe the kindness and tenderness of my friend ; he must set be- fore me the distress suffered by the person for whom he would interest me ; then, and not till then, my heart begins to be touched, my gratitude or my compassion begins to glow." 288. Now, there are th ree ways in which persons may be made to apprehend a thing — viz., b y presenti ng it, I. To their senses~]~il.~~Tu then imagination ; or III. To their uruter standing. l. The orator will rarely be able to pres ent objects to the_ senses. In poetry we have an instance of such use in the speech of Mark Antony over the dead body of Caesar, where he holds up the mantle of Caasar with the rents made by the daggers : 178 Development of Thought. " If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. You all do know this mantle : I remember The first time ever Caesar put it on ; 'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent, That day he overcame the Nervii. Look ! in this place ran Cassius' dagger through : See what a rent the envious Casca made : Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabbed ; And as he plucked his cursed steel away, Mark how the blood of Caesar followed it." Thus among the Romans advocates produced in court per- sons or things that might move the judges to compassion ; e.g., the innocent children of the culprit or of the victim. But we shall return to this subject when treating of judicial oratory. 289. II. Things are presented to the imagination by means of vivi d descript ions, which the French call Tab- leaux, the •featins. V rswHe s. f Our term Vision is applied in rhetoric to only one species of tableaux — viz., to the vivid imagining of an absent object, describing it as if presentr^>; Tableaux abound in eloquent speeches, especially in those addressed to the less educated, as the readiest way to reach their hearts is through the imagination. But there is no audience, no matter how intellectual, with whom they are not welcome and effective. As examples of powerful descriptions of this kind we may refer to three parallel pas- sages intended to arouse terror and indignation ; these pas- sages are found in three speeches, of Demosthenes, Fox, and Edmund Burke. The three tableaux are compared to- gether and criticised by C. A. Goodrich in his British Elo- quence, p. 346. Brief quotations here could not do justice to the subject ; and, besides, the work referred to is found in every library. 290. There is a speech of Spartacus to the Gladiators, by Kellogg, which is familiar to most students of oratory, and Argumentation — Refutation — Pathos. 1 79 which affords excellent opportunities of studying the pro- per method to stir up the passions, and the power of Tab- leaux to effect this purpose. Spartacus strives to arouse his fellow-gladiators to rebellion against their cruel mas- ters, the Romans. First he gains their love and admiration by an exhibi- tion of his prowess. " Ye call me chief ; and ye do well to call him chief who for twelve long years (Tableaux:) has met upon the arena every shape of man or beast the broad em- pire of Rome could furnish, and who never yet lowered his arm. If there be one among you who can say that ever in public fight or private brawl my actions did belie my tongue, let him stand forth and say it." (Exhibition to the senses :) " If there be three in all your company dare face me on the bloody sands, let them come on." {Pity or sympa- thy :) " And yet I was not always thus — a hired butcher, a savage chief of still more savage men." (Tableaux of inno- cence :) " My ancestors came from old Sparta and settled among the vine-clad rocks and citron-groves of Syrasella. My early life ran quiet as the brooks by which I sported ; and when, at noon, I gathered the sheep beneath the shade and played upon the shepherd's flute, there was a friend, the son of a neighbor, to join me in the pastime. We led our flocks to the same pasture and partook together our rustic meal." (Tableaux of injury:) " That very night the Romans landed on our coast. I saw the breast that had nourished me trampled by the hoof of the war-horse, the bleeding body of my father flung amidst the blazing rafters of our dwelling ! " " To-day I killed a man in the arena, and when I broke his helmet-clasps, behold ! he was my friend. He knew me, smiled faintly, gasped, and died — (Tableaux of innocence :) the same sweet smile upon his lips that I had marked when, in adventurous boyhood, we scaled the lofty cliff to pluck the first ripe grapes and bear 180 Development of Thought. them home in childish triumph." (To excite indignation, ■wrath :) " I told the praetor that the dead man had been my friend, generous and brave " — (Tableaux of humiliation:) " and I begged that I might bear away the body to burn it on a funeral pile and mourn over its ashes. Ay ! upon my knees amid the dust and blood of the arena I begged that poor boon" — (Tableaux of outrageous cruelty:) "while all the assembled maids and matrons, and the holy virgins they call Vestals, and the rabble shouted in derision, deeming it rare sport, forsooth, to see Rome's fiercest gladiator turn pale and tremble at sight of that piece of bleeding clay. (Tableaux of insult:) And the praetor drew back, as I were pollution, and sternly said, ' Let the carrion rot ; there are no noble men but Romans ! ' (Fear :) And so, fellow- gladiators, must you, and so must I, die, like dogs." (Direct Pathos — Apostrophe :) (No. 293.) " O Rome ! Rome ! thou hast been a tender nurse to me. Ay, thou hast given to that poor, gentle, timid shepherd lad, who never knew a harsher tune than a flute-note, muscles of iron and a heart of flint"; (Tableaux:) "taught him to drive the sword through plaited mail and links of rugged brass, and warm it in the marrow of his foe ; to gaze into the glaring eye-balls of the fierce Numidian lion, even as a boy upon a laughing girl." (Direct Pathos:) "And he shall pay thee back until the yellow Tiber is red like frothing wine, and in its deepest ooze thy life-blood lies curdled ! " ( Wrath — by irony ; Tableaux :) " Ye stand here now like giants, as ye are. The strength of brass is in your toughened sinews ; but to-morrow some Roman Adonis, breathing sweet perfumes from his curly locks, shall with his lily fingers pat your red brawn and bet his sesterces upon your blood. Hark ! hear ye yon lion roaring in his den ? 'Tis three days since he tasted flesh ; but to-morrow he shall break his fast upon yours — and a dainty meal for A rgumentation — Refutation — Pathos. 1 8 1 him you will be. If ye are beasts, then stand here like fat oxen waiting for the butcher's knife. (Hope :) If ye are men, follow me ! Strike down yon guard, gain the mountain passes, and there do bloody work, as did your sires at old Thermopylae." (Patriotism :) " Is Sparta dead ? Is the old Grecian spirit frozen in your veins, that you do crouch and cower like a belabored hound beneath his master's lash ? " (Direct Pathos :) " O comrades ! warriors ! Thracians ! If we must fight, let us fight for ourselves ! If we must slaughter, let us slaughter our oppressors ! If we must die, let it be under the clear sky, by the bright waters, in noble, honorable battle ! " 291. Poetry deals extensively in the production of Tab- leaux ; all poetry is full of them. It is constantly forming lively conceptions and painting them on the fancy of the reader, as it " bodies forth the forms of things unseen, and gives to empty nothing a local habitation and a name " (Shakspeare). Hence F^nelon has said that poetry is the soul of oratory. This is one of the chief reasons why the study of poetry has always been considered as an important feature in the formation of an orator. But in oratory great care must be taken, in the drawing of pictures, that no mere play of the fancy be indulged which w onjd amuse the mind rather than move the heart. Or atorical Tableaux must li ej-(a) Vimd, therefore precise, without useless details, a few bold strokes, no vagueness ; (b) Ap propria te to excite the particular passion wanted ; (c) Trim — *f.e., free from excessive ornaments, which only weaken passion by delighting the fancy. 292. III. The third means of arousing the passions, and the noblest of all, is powerful, clear reasoning ; this is best suited to the educated, and it may Ire very effective with all classes of auditors, as we see in the speeches of Demos- 182 Development of Thought. thenes. But with any audience, reasoning, to arouse pas- sion, must not be obscure or abstract, but cle ,ar and vivid. Very often it is mixed with brief pictures, and then it is most powerful. We shall quote some passages from great models. From the First Philippic of Demosthenes : "When, then, O my countrymen, when will you do your duty ? What are you waiting for ? Some calamity, or dire necessity ? What, then, do you call our present situation ? For myself, I can conceive of no necessity more urgent to freemen than the pressure of dishonor. Tell me, is it your wish to go about the public squares, here and there, continually asking : ' What is the news ? ' Alas ! what more alarming news could there be than that a Macedonian is conquering Athens and lording it over Greece ? ' Is Philip dead ? ' ' No ; but he is sick.' And what if he were dead ? If he were to die your negligence would cause a new Philip to rise up at once, since this one owes his aggrandizement less to his own power than to your inertness." From the Eighth Philippic . " Indeed, should some god assure you that however inactive and unconcerned you might remain, yet in the end you should not be molested by Philip, yet it would be ignominious- — be witness, Heaven ! — it would be beneath you, beneath the dignity of your state, beneath the glory of your ancestors, to sacrifice to your own selfish repose the interests of all the rest of Greece. Rather would I perish than recommend such a course ! Let some other man urge it upon you, if he will ; and listen to him, if you can. But if my sentiments are yours — if you foresee, as I do, that the more we leave Philip to extend his conquests the more we are fortifying an enemy whom, sooner or later, we must cope with — why do you hesitate ? " etc. Lord Chatham's speech against search-warrants is full of A rgumentation — Refutation — Pathos. 183 such impassioned reasoning ; e.g., "The learned gentlemen were next pleased to show us that the government were al- ready possessed of such power as is now desired. And how did they show it ? Why, sir, by showing that this is the practice in the case of felony, and in the case of those who are as bad as felons — I mean those who rob the public or dissipate the public money. Shall we, sir, put our brave sailors upon the same footing with felons and public rob- bers ? Shall a brave, honest sailor be treated as a felon for no other reason than because, after a long voyage, he has a mind to solace himself among his friends in the coun- try, and for that purpose absconds for a few weeks in order to prevent his being pressed upon a Spithead, or some such pacific expedition ? " etc. § 3. Of the Expression of Excited^Pa,ssioas, 293. Tableaux and vivid reasonings_iat£nd_ed_to arouse the passions are of tencallecTthe indirect .pathetic, while the utterance of excited~emoti&nS"is"p"a"t'hos proper, or the direct^ pathetic. - — " "" Once a passion has been aroused it may be proper to in- dulge it and dwell upon it by exclamations and other strong expressions of excited emotions. This manner of development is what the ancients called Amplification — i.e., to enforce pathos by copious treatment, so as to keep the minds and hearts of the hearers occupied with the aroused passion. 294. The ancients had two species of amplification : the Ssiv wffi? co nsisted in accumulating kindred th oughts ; the olvSjjGi? accumulated^_variojis_£xpiessions _a£— the same thought. The one is copious in thoughts, the other in ex- pressions. Of the former this passage of Cardinal Newman (Ser- 184 Development of Thought. mons, p. 218) may serve as a sample: "Such is the great God, so all-sufficient, so all-blessed, so separate from crea- tures, so inscrutable, so unapproachable. Who can see him ? who can fathom him ? who can move him ? who can change him ? who can even speak of him ? He is all-holy, all-patient, all-serene, and all-true. He says and he does ; he delays and he executes ; he warns and he punishes ; he punishes, he rewards, he forbears, he pardons, according to an eternal decree, without imperfection, without vacillation, without inconsistency." Another example of Sslvooffi? oc- curs in C icero's Defen ce of Milo, where the orator deplores the sufferings brought on the Roman people by the excesses of Clodius, which he takes occasion to enumerate : /"Dura mihi medius fidius,'' etc., n. 32. Of the latter we have an example in the speech of Regu- lus to the Roman Senate {Standard Speaker, p. 106): " Con- script Fathers ! there is but one course to be pursued. Abandon all thought of peace. Reject the overtures of Carthage ! Reject them wholly and unconditionally ! What ! give back to her a thousand able-bodied men, and receive in return this one attenuated, war-worn, fever- wasted frame — this weed, whitened in a dungeon's dark- ness, pale and sapless, which no kindness of the sun, no softness of the summer breeze, can ever restore to health and vigor ! It must not, it shall not be ! " An eloquent avSr/ffi? is found in the first Catilinian, where Cicero makes Catiline gloat over the disgraceful revels which he will enjoy in the camp of the conspirators. 295. In connection with amplification we may call atten- tion to its opposite, Extenuation, which accumulates belit- tling ideas or expressions. Perhaps the most striking in- stance of such an inverted SeivwffiS is found in Shak- speare's well-known description of Queen Mab : Argumentation — Refutation — Pathos. 1 85 " She comes In shape no bigger than an agate-stone On the forefinger of an alderman, Drawn with a team of little atomies," etc. 296. The chief requisite in the utterance of excited feel- ings is usually expressed in the words written by Horace as a rule for the action of tragedians : Si vis meflere, dolendum est Primum ipsi tibi. " If you wish me to weep, you must first be afflicted yourself." Certainly the spectators of a drama will not be moved to tears if the actors on the stage remain cold and uncon- cerned. The same rule will hold in the case of those who listen to a public speaker. But the rule applies directly to those passions that are ar oused by s ympathy. As Quincy Adams remarks, in order to arouse shame the orator need not feel that passion himself, but he will " sound the trumpet of unblemished honor.' - " Would you strike ter- ror," he adds, " be intrepid ; and in general remember that if it is the nature of some passions to spread by contagion, it is equally characteristic of others never to kindle with- out collision." This remark is undoubtedly correct ; but we think this distinguished rhetorician errs in the applica- tion of his rule when he says : " Would you inflame anger ? Be cool." Did not Spartacus burn with anger when he strove to arouse the same passion in his fellow-gladiators ? Did not Cicero when he denounced Verres and Antony ? All that can be claimed in favor of Adams' view is that anger must be restrained so that it do not overpower the orator ; but the same holds of all the passions : the speaker should always maintain full command of himself, while the actor on the stage may appear to be overcome by his sor- row or other passion. 1 86 Development of Thought. Allowing for a few special exceptions, the old rule, that p assion must be excited by contagio n, remains true ; and it is emphatically declared by all the great rhetoricians to be most important. Cicero expresses himself thus {De Or., ii. 45): " For as no rael is so combustible as to kindle without the application of fire, so no disposition of mind is so sus- , ceptible of the impressions of the orator as to be animated I to strong feeling, unless he himself approach it full of in-/ flammation and ardor." Here it is that natural gifts of no/ common kind are required for the formation of a trulw great orator. What we stated in our introductory chapter here finds its chief application : Pectus est quod disertos facit, et vis mentis — " It is the heart that makes men elo-,. quent, and their mental power." 297. Though the language of passion is less subject to definite precepts than any other parts of an oration, still it may not be useless to point out, after the example of the old rhetoricians, some sourcesjpf amplification to which great orators have frequent recourse. 298. 1. A ccumulati on ; e.g., of definitions, consequences, causes, effects, circumstances, parts, etc. These are usually displayed in the figures of vision, personification, interroga- tion, answer, exclamation, etc. Sheridan, on the Begum charge, exclaims : " Filial Piety ! It is the primal bond of society. It is that instinctive principle which, panting for its proper good, soothes unbidden each sense and sen- sibility of man. It now quivers on every lip. It now beams from every eye. It is that gratitude which, soften- ing under the sense of recollected good, is eager to own the vast, countless debt it never, alas ! can pay, for so many years of unceasing solicitudes, honorable self-denials, life- preserving cares. It is that part of our practice where duty drops its awe, where reverence refines into love. It asks no aid of memory. It needs not the deductions of Argumentation — Refutation — Pathos. 187 reason. Pre-existing, paramount over all, whether moral law or human rule, few arguments can increase and none can diminish it. It is the sacrament of our nature ; not only the duty but the indulgence of man. It is his first great privi- lege. It is among his last more endearing delights, when the bosom glows with the idea of reverberated love," etc. Another specimen of the kind is found in Webster's address at Bunker Hill (Am. Eloq., vol. ii. p. 364): " But — ah ! Him ! the first great martyr in this great cause ! Him ! the prema- ture victim of his own self-devoting heart ! Him ! the head of our civil councils and the destined leader of our mili- tary bands, whom nothing brought hither but the un- quenchable fire of his own spirit ; him ! cut off by Provi- dence in the hour of overwhelming anxiety and thick gloom ; falling ere he saw the star of his country rise ; pouring out his generous blood like water before he knew whether it would fertilize a land of freedom or of bondage ! How shall I struggle with the emotions that stifle the utter- ance of thy name ! " etc. 299. 2. C omparis on ; i.e., examples and anything simi- lar, dissimilar, or contrary adduced to heighten passion. Byron thus gives utterance to his passionate love of lib- erty : "Still, still, forever; Better, though each man's life-blood were a river, That it should flow, and overflow, than creep Through thousand lazy channels in our veins, Dammed like the dull canal with locks and chains, And moving as a sick man in his sleep, Three paces, and then faltering — better be Where the extinguished Spartans still are free, In their proud charnel of Thermopylae, Than stagnate in our marsh ; or o'er our deep Fly, and one current to the ocean add, One spirit to the souls our fathers had, One freeman more, America, to thee ! " Development of Thought. V 300. 3. "Climax," as Adams remarks (Lect. xxiv.), "is the universal key to all oratorical composition. It applies to the discourse as a whole ; it applies to every sentence as a part. The ideas of the audience should be kept in a con- stantly ascending state, though it is not always necessary that the ascent should be made by regular and artificial steps." Pathos especially should go on increasing in depth and intensity; for, as Quintilian remarks (Inst., vi. 1), " whatever does not add to the passion detracts from it." As a peculiar manner of amplification, climax is exempli- fied in the following extracts : " It is a crime to put a Ro- man citizen in bonds ; it is the height of guilt to scourge him ; little less than parricide to put him to death. What name, then, shall I give to the act of crucifying him ? " (Cicero In Verr.) " Gentlemen, if one man had anyhow slain another, if an adversary had slain his foe or a woman occasioned the death of her enemy, even these criminals would have been capitally punished by the Cornelian law ; but if this guilt- less infant, who could make no enemy, had been murdered by its own nurse, what punishments would not then the mother have demanded ? With what cries and exclama- tions would she have stunned your ears ? What shall we say, then, when a woman guilty of homicide, a mother guilty of the murder of her innocent child, has comprised all those misdeeds in one single crime — a crime in its own nature detestable, in a woman prodigious, in a mother in- credible, and perpetrated against one whose age called for compassion, whose near relationship claimed affection, and whose innocence deserved the highest favor ? " (Mc- Kenzie). 301. 4. Reasoning or Inference. — i.e., when the orator dwells on a matter that enkindles the passions not directly, but indirectly and by implication, as Cicero does when, in Argumentation — Refutation — Pathos. 1 89 his discourse on the Manilian Law, he dwells feelingly on the prostration of the Roman power during the war of the Pirates, thus keeping alive admiration in the hearts of his hearers for the prowess of Pompey, who defeated these ene- mies of the republic. " Quis enim toto mari locus," etc.^ Nos. 11 and 12. Thus, too, Milton amplifies the person of Satan by a de- scription of his weapons : " His ponderous shield, Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round, Behind him cast ; the broad circumference, Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views At evening from the top of Fesole Or in Valdarno to descry new lands, Rivers, or mountains on her spotty globs. His spear, to equal which the tallest pine, Hewn on Norwegian hills to be the mast Of some great admiral, were but a wand He walked with." By these and like means pathos may be continued for some time and with great effect ; for a momentary excite- ment leaves no lasting impression, while a prolonged feel- ing of any passion is apt to decide the action of the will. 302. Still, it must be remembered that violent excitement cannot last long — violenta non durant — and the rhetorician Apollonius remarks that " nothing dries up more quickly than tears." Hence the orator must be careful not to sustain any passion when the audience begins to tire of it ; and he must remember that when the hearers cease to share his feelings they will at once begin to criticise and find fault with himself or his subject. He can do one of two things : he may either conclude his speech when excitement is at its highest, so as to leave a powerful impression on his hearers, provided he can do so naturally without offensive abrupt- 190 Development of Thought. ness ; or he may descend from the high tone of his passion through gentler feelings, so as to find a natural transition to the calm reasoning that is yet to follow. The following is the transition used by Edmund Burke after the pathetic passage above referred to (No. 289) : " These details are of a species of horror so nauseous and disgusting ; they are so degrading to the sufferers and the hearers ; they are so humiliating to human nature itself, that, on better thoughts, I find it more advisable to throw a pall over this hideous object and to leave it to your general conceptions." Fox, after his brilliant pathos, simply says : " Sir, I have done ; I have told you my opinion." Then he passes on to some calm but earnest conclusions, and prepares to finish his speech. 303. The orator in a pathetic passage may arouse various passions at once or in close succession, as one passion will usually help another ; but he must carefully avoid mixing anything foreign with his passions : (a) Anything abstruse or erudite ; (6) Cold details, no matter how pretty ; (c) And in general all ornament evidently labored ; for these things, besides showing that he is not full of his subject, also fill the minds of his hearers with images at variance with passion. Finally, the orator must be careful not to carry the pa- thetic too far — that is, beyond the measure of what is natu- ral and becoming. Cicero was undoubtedly guilty of this mistake when, in his prosecution of Verres, he thus con- cluded a most pathetic passage : " Were I pouring forth my lamentations to the stones and rocks in some remote and desert wilderness, even those mute and inanimate beings would, at the recital of such shocking indignities, be thrown into commotion." This is not genuine passion, but strained declamation. CHAPTER V. CONCLUSION OR PERORATION. 304. As it would appear inelegant and harsh under or- dinary circumstances to enter upon a discourse without at least a brief Introduction, so likewise it would usually be unsatisfactory to stop abruptly without at least a brief Con- el usion or Perorati on. But besides avoiding harshness, as the Introduction aims at positive advantage by preparing the audience to receive I favorably the views and sentiments of the speaker, so the I Peroration aims at impressing those views and sentiments I upon their minds by a last and well-directed effort. [ Hence if the speech has been chiefly argumentative the Conclusion ought either to insist upon some one important consideration which the orator desires to be best remem- bered, or to recapitulate the most weighty arguments. If the point is to be carried rather by moving the heart than by convincing the understanding, the whole power of pa- thos may be appropriately exerted in the Conclusion. No general rule can be laid down but this : that the speaker should manage his Conclusion in such a manner that the end come not unexpectedly on his hearers, and, on the other hand, that it do come when they expect it. He may select for the concluding sentence any argument or feel- ing or image which will enable him to retire, leaving on his auditors a favorable impression of his subject and no unfavorable one of himself. Nothing is more unpleasant in a Peroration than to see the orator continue when every one expects and wishes him to stop. It is better to 192 Development of Thought. conclude in any manner than remain hunting for a good conclusion. When the rec apitulation occurs in the Peroration it may be set off to advantage by the use of wel l-chose n terms, striking figures, and variety in the way of introducing it ; ^.^-.,'"CicTf6^against Verres~puts one recapitulation in the mouth of Verres' own father, while another is embodied in an address to the gods whose temples have been plundered. 305. As examples of happy Conclusions we may quote the following : Bossuet concludes his funeral oration on the Prince of Conde thus : " Accept, O prince, these last efforts of a voice which you once knew well. With you all my funeral discourses are now to end. Instead of deploring the death of others, henceforth it shall be my study to learn from you how my own can be blessed. Happy if, warned by these gray hairs of the account which I must soon give of my ministry, I reserve solely for that flock which I ought to feed with the word of life the feeble remnants of a voice which now trembles, and an ardor which is now on the point of being extinct." Bayard, on the Judiciary, thus : " We are standing on the brink of that revolutionary torrent which deluged in blood one of the fairest countries of Europe. France had her National Assembly, more numerous and equally popular with our own. She had her tribunals of justice and her juries. But the legislature and her courts were but the instruments of her destruction. Acts of proscription and sentences of banishment and death were passed in the cabinet of a tyrant. Prostrate your judges at the feet of party, and you break down the mounds which defend you from this torrent. I am done. I should have thanked my God for greater power to resist a measure so destructive to the peace and happiness of the country. My feeble efforts can avail nothing. But it was my duty to make them. Conclusion or Peroration. 193 The meditated blow is mortal, and from the moment it is struck we may bid a final adieu to the Constitution." As a last specimen of an appropriate Peroration we shall quote the words with which J. ft. Adams concludes his first course of Lectures on Rhetoric (Lect. xxiv.) : " While I am treating of the conclusion of a discourse, one-half of the audience to whose instruction my services are devoted is brought to a conclusion of their academic career. Ac- cept my thanks, gentlemen, for the attention with which you have uniformly favored me, and the punctuality with which you have performed the duties of which the super- intendence has been allotted to me. As you pass from this to a theatre of higher elevation for the pursuit of science, I cannot but feel a sentiment of regret at your de- parture, though mingled with that of cordial felicitation upon your advancement. Henceforth you are to unite the study of living man with that of ages expired ; the observa- tion of the present with the meditation upon the past. And so rapid is the succession of years that you will soon feel the balance of your feelings and of your duties point- ing with an irresistible magnet to futurity, and the grow- ing burden of your hopes and wishes concentrated in the welfare of your successors upon this earthly stage ; of yourselves upon that which must succeed. Go forth, then, with the blessing of this your intellectual parent. Go forth according to the common condition of your nature, to act and to suffer ; and may He in whose hands are the hearts as well as the destinies of men be your guide for the one and your staff for the other. May he inspire you at every needed hour with that fortitude which smiles at calamity ; may he at every fortunate occasion fire you with that active energy which makes opportunity success, and that purity of principle which makes success a public and a private blessing." CHAPTER VI. ON THE STYLE OF SPEECHES. 306. It is not here intended to write a treatise on style, but simply to explain those qualities which should char- acterize the style of speeches as distinguished from other compositions. The importance of style in oratory is such that without it all our arguments, no matter how skilfully invented and arranged, no matter how ably developed, remain ineffec- tual, like a good sword hidden in a scabbard, 'f By polish and embellishment of style," says Quintilian (viii. "3^ 2), " the orator recommends himself to his auditors in hi§_ proper character ; in his other efforts he courts the appro- bation of the learned, in this the applause of the multi- tude." ..." This grace of style may contribute in no small degree to the success of a cause ; for those who listen with pleasure are both more attentive and more willing to believe, . . . and are sometimes carried away by admira- tion " (ib. 5). 307. The first quality of the oratorical style is Perspicui- ty. This quality, necessary to a great extent in all manner of compositions, ought to be so perfect in oratory that the hearers not only can easily understand what is said, but cannot help understanding it, as_we see the sun on a clear day without looking for it J Without such perspicuity speakers may tickle~Tta"ears of the vulgar with fair words and empty sounds ; but such eloquence is contemptible and such triumphs are not worthy of a good and earnest man. 194 On the Style of Speeches. 195 Of this quality it is useless to give any example ; it is the very essence of the proper style for public speaking. Any passage of an oration that will not illustrate this quality of style is evidently defective, no matter what other good qualities it may combine. But it may not be useless to give an example of the absence of this perspi- cuity. Mazzini, addressing the young men of Italy, says : " Love, young men, love and reverence the ideal ; it is the country of the spirit, the city of the soul, in which all are brethren who believe in the inviolability of thought and in the dignity of our immortal natures. From that high sphere spring the principles which alone can redeem the peoples. Love enthusiasm, the pure dreams of the virgin soul, and the lofty visions of early manhood ; for they are the perfume of Paradise, which the soul preserves in issu- ing from the hands of the Creator." This is fine language ; but what does it all mean ? What, for instance, does the speaker mean by " the inviolability of thought " ? In this example the want of perspicuity is not the result of dulness or carelessness in the orator, but he appears to use language to conceal his thoughts. This is called an art, but it is one no honest man would recom- mend ; the use of it is a stain upon the character of a speaker. Of obscurity resulting from dulness or negli- gence examples are readily found in many speeches ; none need here be quoted. 308. The second and distinguishing quality is Direct- ness. The speaker should constantly address the hearers as if cQJXY.ersing with them ;/this keeps their attention alive andcauses the orator to -adapt himself to their understand- ing. If we compare distinguished with inferior speakers we find that the former are ever conversing, as it were, with their hearers, while the latter often seem to be reading a page of a book to them. 196 Development of Thought. 309. The third quality is A ppropriateness ofjhe .glyicto the thoughts. As style is nothing else than that sort of expression which our thoughts naturally assume, it will, of course, vary with the varying characteristics of the thoughts themselves. Now, thoughts will vary with the aim for which the orator conceives them. He may aim at pleasing, at convincing, or at persuading ; and as he will adapt his selection of thoughts to the special aim presently intended, so likewise will he adapt the expression of them to the same purpose. /This difference of style has been pithily express- ed by Cicero in these words : Subtile in probando, modicum in delectando, vehemens in flectendo.S His meaning is that the style of an oi^-ei i -s^iiW-%e""p"Tam and simple when he de- sires to impart conviction, modest when he aims at plea- sure, and forcible when he strives to persuade. Since one or other of these three aims will be predominant on any particular occasion, some one or other character of style will prevail in a discourse. Still, even within the "same oration there will naturally arise varieties of style, according to the different aims of the separate parts. Thus in the Introduction modesty and dignity are usually blend- ed ; the Narration will be plain and very clear, " almost in the style of daily conversation," says Cicero ; an Exposition or Explanation requires leisure and repose ; Reasoning I must be close and brisk, usually in short and pointed sen- tences — incisim et membratim, as Cicero calls it ; Pathos should be poured forth with " richness, variety, and even copiousness of language" (De Or., ii. 53). It admits of all the figures of word and thought, all the oratorical re- sources of speech, provided that everything be kept withirx_ the limits of common sense and gentlemanly refinement. 310. The fourth quality is Appropriaienfiss_to_the_audi- ence. A book is written for all ; its style may and should differ with its subject-matter. But it cannot so easily adapt On the Style of Speeches. 197 itself to the age and condition of the reader ; the style of a speech can and should be so adapted. Not that an orator who is refined with the refined should ever be vulgar with the vulgar, but he should, without stooping too low, adapt his language to the understanding of his audience. It is beautiful to observe how great men have often stooped to the taste of children, and lofty minds to the common thoughts of the uneducated. As an example of the latter we may quote the introduc- tion to the first of Cardinal Newman's sermons : " When a body of men come into a neighborhood to them unknown, as we are doing, my brethren, strangers to strangers, and there set themselves down, and raise an altar, and open a school, and invite or even exhort all men to attend them, it is natural that they who see them and are drawn to think about them should ask the question, What brings them hither ? Who bid them come ? What do they want ? What do they preach ? What is their warrant ? What do they promise ? You have a right, my brethren, to ask the question. Many, however, will not stop to ask it, as think- ing they can answer it for themselves. Many there are who would promptly and confidently answer it, according to their own habitual view of things, on their own principles, the principles of the world," etc. It may not be unprofitable to compare, or rather to con- trast, the style of this extract with the introduction to a let- ter of Junius addressed to the Duke of Grafton : " If na- ture had given you an understanding qualified to keep pace with the wishes and principles of your heart, she would have made you, perhaps, the most formidable minister that ever was employed under a limited monarch to accomplish the ruin of a free people. When neither the feelings of shame, the reproaches of conscience, nor the dread of pun- ishment form any bar to the designs of a minister, the peo- 198 Development of Thought. pie would have too much reason to lament their condition, if they did not find some resource in the weakness of his understanding. We owe it to the bounty of Providence that the completest depravity of the heart is sometimes strangely united with a confusion of the mind which coun- teracts the most favorite principles and makes the same man treacherous without art and a hypocrite without de- ceiving." These are three well-balanced periods, each very beautiful in sound and harmony, and certainly not devoid of meaning. But the whole passage is strikingly unsuited for oratory. No skilful speaker would use such style with any manner of audience. 311. The fifth quality is beauty or oraamgatx this should not be confined to the bathetic parts, but affect the entire _Cflmfiosition, as blood permeates the whole human body. It should be manly, strong, and chaste ; not effeminately smooth and affected, but shining with the beauty of a healthy, manly form. " True beauty of style is not one thing and utility another," says Quintilian. " Nor is it enough," he adds, " that the language be clear and pure ; there should be a choice of proper words even on common matters, but in important ones no ornament should be spared unless it obscure the sense." Figures may add as much to clearness as to elegance, as when Cic ero says that /" the laws are silent in the midst of arms," and that " the sword is handed to us by the laws themselves." But the figures should be ornaments, not impediments. 312. The sixth quality. Perspicuity and beauty com- bined make a stylejjspalar — that is, such as the people love to hear ; it is the perfection of the oratorical style. To attain to it the orator must study to discern what points the people wish to have explained or proved, and what they are willing to accept on his word. He must know what illustrations will suit their minds. For these On the Style of Speeches. 199 purposes he must know his audience, their circumstances and predilections, their weaknesses and their virtues, their views and their prejudices, their interests and their aspira- tions. Above all, he must Trnnw t.hj ^hnTpan hea rt. The knowledge of the heart of man cannot be acquired from the mere precepts of a teacher, nor the writings of philosophers, nor by the extensive perusal of literary works. These means will help, no doubt, to that purpose ; but it is by 1 ' r,t pr f ' rLLU: ' :fi - with t"g £mMhui.iiiiiw -asaA especially by self- intrnspcrtinn anrl fhp scrutiny ^f his nwn hfanl^ that a man will acquire a knxiffle^ge_oMiumanjiat5?e which no books can teach, and which will discover to him the secret springs of human actions. He is apt to understand others best who understands himself best ; the old oracle spoJcea_ta_Cices»£, ji" Kno w thvself," is applicable to all men, but particularly to those who are ambitious to become the guides of others. 313. A seventh quality is c opiousness of treatment. In reading a book a person can read over a second time what he failed to understand the first time ; but it is not so when he listens to a speech. Hence every thing important m ust be fully pr^sfTirH, »?ypn prcsP T " w1 m " r|1 than nnrp, b"* in different terms, so that it does not appear to_be_a_J£peti- tion. Ther-e-ar-e-parts of the speech that may be more con- cise^ but the general characteristic of the oratorical style is fulness, copiousness, rather than brevity. Skilful speakers dwell long on the same thoughts, if important, presenting them now in plain, then in figurative language ; now by reasoning, then by illustration ; now in general, then in particular examples, etc. We have a fine specimen of copious style in this well- known extract from a speech of Patrick Henry ; it will be noticed that every thought is expressed more than once : " Mr. President, it is natural for man to indulge in the illu- sions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a pain- 200 Development of Thought. ful truth and listen to the song of the siren till she trans- forms us into beasts. Is this the part of a wise man en- gaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty ? Are we disposed to be of the number of those who, having eyes, see not, and, having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern our temporal salvation ? For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth, to know the worst and to provide for it," etc. As models in English of the oratorical style we may men- tion Chatham, Fox, Edmund Burke, Pitt, Cardinals Wise- man and Newman, Father Tom Burke, Webster, Calhoun, Clay, Everett, Patrick Henry, etc. 314. The language of an orator, especially in extempo- raneous efforts, will in great part depend upon h is style^ in Qidiaftry^conyersattqn. Young men should therefore accustom themselves to converse in correct and culti- vated language, most carefully avoiding all rude and faulty expressions and all kinds of slang terms. On the other hand, they should avoid affectation, and even the use of words that may be correct enough but not generally used ; many recommend the use of words of Saxon origin, as being more familiar to all and often more expressive. Pedantry is always improper ; but it cannot be called pedantic in a man of education to avoid vulgar words and such constructions as violate the well-known rules of grammar. " This advice," says Quintilian (Inst., x. 7), " is approved by Cicero, that no portion of even our com- mon conversation should ever be careless, and that what- ever we say, on any occasion, should be, as far as possible, excellent in its way." BOOK V. MEMORY AND ELOCUTION. 315. The composition of a discourse has now been ex- plained with sufficient fulness ; but as a jewel, after it is completely formed and polished to perfection, must next be properly set to display it to the best advantage, thus an oration must be committed to memory, and so delivered as to make the most favorable impression. Hence we find that to the parts of oratory so far explained, treating respec- tively of the invention, arrangement, and development of arguments, Quintilian adds two other divisions (Inst., iii. 3), viz.: Memory, and Action or Delivery. We shall briefly consider these two subjects, treating : 1. Of memorizing ; and 2. Of the delivery of an oration. CHAPTER I. ON MEMORIZING THE ORATION. 316. I. The first question that presents itself under this head is whether, supposing the oration to have been writ- ten, it is always necessary to commit it to memory. IsjL not enough to re ad it ? This question was not discussed by the ancients: they_..never read- -thei*-spe#eh,'es: They always aimed at perfection in every art ; and there is no doubt that the perfection of eloquence is impeded by those trammels which the reading of a discourse imposes on the orator. Even if he should have great dexterity in using his manuscript, there is in his very glance at the written* page an interruption to the flow of soul which marks real eloquence. "The practice of reading sermons," says Blair (Lect. xxix.), " is one of the greatest obstacles to the eloquence of the pulpit in Great Britain, where alone this practice pre- vails. No discourse which is designed to be persuasive can have the same force when read as when spoken. The common people all feel this, and their prejudice against this practice is not without foundation in nature. What is gained hereby in point of correctness is not equal, I apprehend, to what is lost in point of persuasion and force." 317. Still, there are occasions when a written speech is not altogether out of place. Thus lectures on scientific subjects, delivered before highly intellectual audiences, may sometimes be read to advantage. But even in such cases it is desirable that the lecturer almost know his composi- On Memorizing the Oration. 2^3 tion by heart, so that, under the modest appearance of a reader, he may exert all the influence of an orator. When a lecture is thus read, not spoken, we expect in it certain qualities which may atone for the absence of oratorical power — viz., (a) more solidity than usual, (6) more calm- ness and deliberation, and (c) more correctness and refine- ment of expression. 318. II. A second question is, Should the speech, if memorizedjJhp learned word for-jgord? There is a great advantage in doing so, as the speaker will thus reap the full fruit of all* his preparation, and not lose a single one of the figures and the constructions which he has carefully selected. All orators should begin with this laborious ex- ercise of their memories and continue it for many years. In later life they may find it sufficient to write their ora- tions and read them over once or twice. But, as a rule, those who stop laboring stop improving. Some who cease to read their speeches still continue to write them, and find no little profit in thus reducing their thoughts to written expression. In delivering their orations, thoughts more forcible and more elegant may occur to them than those which they had conceived during their hours of quiet pre- paration, and practised speakers will know how to profit by them. Whatever method they find most useful to themselves, let them adopt it, for they are masters of the art. The precepts of this book are written for pupils, and for these undoubtedly the fullest and most careful prepara- tion is the most desirable. 319. III. These, then, should memorize their discourses word for word. For this purpose they should study how to improve their memories. Now, How can the memory be improved ? No faculty is more capable of improve- f ment ; and the means is practice, exercise. Rule 1. Young people should be made to learn by heart 204 Memory and Elocution. daily. "If any one asks me," says Quintilian {Inst., xi. 2), " what is the greatest, nay, the only art of memory, my answer is. Exercise, labor, much learning by heart, much meditation, and, if possible, daily repeated ; this is worth all the rest. Nothing thrives so much by industry ; no- thing perishes so much by neglect. Let, then, the prac- tice be taught and made frequent in childhood ; and who- ever, at any period of life, would cultivate his memory must submit to the distasteful work of going over and over again what he has written and already many times read. The habit of learning by heart, when acquired in early youth, gives ever after a readiness which disdains paltry indulgences. No prompter, no looking on the paper, then should be endured, for it encourages negligence ; and when we have any fear of failing in our recitation we shall scarcely succeed in hiding our embarrassment. Hence the course of delivery will be interrupted, a hesitating, stam- mering mode of speech will be formed, and all the grace of the most elegant writing be lost in the continual con- fession that, instead of speaking, we are reading a written composition." Rule 2. Let young people learn jhat_oaly which is worth remembering. " There is perhaps as much failure of excellence arising from the misapplication of this faculty to frivolous or irrational objects as from its utter neglect " (Adams). Rule 3. Let all bewjyr_e_fii whatever js apt to impair the memory. " The memory is impaired," says Adams (Lect. xxxv.), "by all the diseases which the vices of men bring upon them, and by some which are merely the visitations of Heavelf It is occasionally suspended for a time by sensual excesses, and particularly by intoxication. It is gradually corroded and consumed by long-continued habits of intemperance. All the violent passions, for the time On Memorizing the Oration. 205 while they exercise their dominion over the mind, en- croach upon the memory. ... A firm and conscientious regard to truth is a quality very material to the memory ; and hence the deficiency of that power in persons whose veracity is feeble has in all ages been proverbial." 320. IV. What devices may assist to learn a discourse by heart ? 1. Learn in the quiet hours of the evening, and repeat the task in the calm of the early dawn. 2. In the manuscript distinguish the heads of the oration by marks that catch the eye and thus seize on the ima- gination. 3. Learn the speech by parts, according to those same divisions. 4. Learn from the same manuscript, so as to derive as- sistance from the local memory. 5. Learn aloud, so that the ear may aid the mind. 321. V. Is e xtempore sne aking ever advisable ? / If by extempore speaking is meant speaking withopt : careful preparation, without having formed clear ideas on the matter discussed, it were rash ever to attempt it. "Eloquence," says Quintilian, "derides those who thus . insult her ; and those who wish to appear learned to fools , are decidedly pronounced fools by the learned " {Inst., xJ 7). But extemporaneous-Speaking is usually understood to have a different meaning, and to consist in the delivery , ioT an oration the matter of which has been thoroughly studied and arranged, but not reduced to written sentences. It differs from the full preparation in this one point, that the words are not written ; but the plan is usually drawn up, and even the words are passed over in the mind, and sometimes the introduction at least is written out. " It is the general practice," says Quintilian, " among plead- ers who have much occupation, to write only the most 206 Memory and Elocution. essential parts, and especially the commencements, of their speeches ; to fix the other portions, that they bring from home, in their memory by meditation, and to meet any unforeseen attacks with extemporaneous replies " {Inst, x. 7). 322. Even such manner of extemporizing is advisable for those only who cannot prepare in full. For persons so circumstanced we shall add a few suggestions culled from Quintilian (Inst., x. 7). 1. " If any chance shall give rise to such a sudden neces- sity for speaking extempore, we shall have need to exert our mind with more than its usual activity ; we must fix our whole attention on our matter, and relax for the time something of our care about words, if we find it impossi- ble to attend to both. A slower pronunciation, too, and a mode of speaking with suspense and doubt, as it were, gives time for consideration ; yet we must manage so that we may seem to deliberate, and not to hesitate. . . . After- wards, as we proceed on our course, we shall fill our sails. . . . This will be better than to launch forth on an empty torrent of words, so as to be carried away with it, as by the blasts of a tempest, whithersoever it may wish to sweep us.'' 2. " There is also another kind of exercise, that of medi- tation upon whole subjects, and going through them in silent thought (yet, so as to speak, within ourselves) — an exercise which may be pursued at all times and in all places, when we are not actually engaged in any other oc- cupation." 3. " Speak in the hearing of several persons, especially of those for whose judgment and opinion you have much re- gard ; for it rarely happens that a person is sufficiently severe with himself. Let us, however, rather speak alone than not speak at all." On Memorizing the Oration. 207 4. "As to writing, we must certainly never write more than when we have to speak much extempore j for by the use of the pen a weightiness will be preserved in our mat- ter, and that light facility of language which swims, as it were on the surface, will be compressed." CHAPTER II. ELOCUTION OR DELIVERY. 323. By Elocution orDelijfiiy we mean the art of regu- lating the voice and the gestures. But the ancients in- cluded style as a portion of elocution, and what we call delivery they denominated Action. We read of Demos- thenes that, after failing of success in one of his earliest orations, he walked away disconsolate, a picture of despair. He was met by a friend, a distinguished elocutionist, who, on learning the cause of his disconsolate looks, walked home with him, and there declaimed some portions of the orator's manuscript in such a way that Demosthenes won- dered at the power exhibited in his own production when perfectly rendered. Henceforth he devoted himself with redoubled ardor to the study of delivery ; and later in life, when he was asked what was the chief point in oratory, he replied action ; and what the second ? action again ; and the third ? action once more. So thoroughly did he feel convinced that almost the whole efficacy of oratory de- pends upon elocution. Cicero and Quintilian quote this conviction of Demosthenes with approbation. Adams sus- pects that in modern times delivery is of less importance. This may be true enough in judicial oratory, owing to the altered character of our courts ; and it may hold, to some extent, in representative bodies. For it now often happens that a discourse is expected to appear in the public press immediately after it is spoken, and that more importance is attached to the impression it will make on the readers of it throughout the land, than to its immediate effect on the Elocution or Delivery. 209 hearers in the legislative halls. But when discourses are spoken before a popular audience with a view to present results, then the power of delivery is as great as it ever was, for it flows from the very constitution of human na- ture. Thus Shakspeare, who knew mankind so well, makes the Duchess of York thus impeach the sincerity of her hus- band : " Pleads he in earnest ? Look upon his face ; His eyes do drop no tears, his prayers are jests ; His words come from his mouth, ours from our breast ; He prays but faintly and would be denied ; We pray with heart and soul." 324. Elocution cannot be taught to perfection by precept alone ; more than any other branch of oratory it requires the assistance of a teacher ; but we may refer to the most important directions usually laid down by rhetoricians on this subject. We shall divide the matter into its two natu- ral branches of pronunciation and gesture. Article I. P ronunciati on. 325. A member of a popular assembly, as Adams re- marks, is said to make a speech ; a lawyer at the bar argues a cause j the orator of a festival delivers an oration, and a clergyman preaches a sermon. The management of the voice in all these species we denominate ProryineMrtTon. Now, the functions of the voice are twofold — to transmit words to the ears of the audience, and to convey emotions to their hearts. 326. I. To trijiTifiim't wnHn t" tllfi ° QV ° the speaker must attend to : 1. Lou dness ; 2. Distinctness j 3. Slow ness j . and_ 4. Pauses. 1, The Loudness should be such that the orator shall 210 Memory and Elocution. be easily understood by all whom he addresses ; excess is unpleasant. The voice has three pitches: t\iS~Mgh, for calling to some one at a distance ; the low, for whispering ; and the middle, for ordinary conversation. This4ast_should generally be used in public speaking. It alone can be properly modulated and long supported. The high pitch soon pains the speaker, and whatever is felt to pain the speaker at once pains the hearers. All this should be remembered by those especially who speak in the open air. Finding that the voice does not come back to them, as it does in a hall, they readily imagine that they do not speak loud enough. This may be true or not, but taking a higher key will not mend it ; it will only make them hoarse and prevent them from being understood at all. Every man's voice has a certain limit of power, beyond which it is useless to strain it. That power is exerted to the best advantage in the middle pitch. All that can be done is to manage the voice judiciously. 2. For this purpose Distinctness of pronunciation is of the greatest importance. Tilt; leettownust cut every syllable sharply and precisely, so that every sound be produced perfect in its kind and carried to the ear separately from every preceding and every following sound. A weak voice speaking with distinct articulation will be far better under- stood than a strong voice without it. Even a whisper well articulated can be made to fill a vast hall. When a reso- nance exists, even in a smaller room, this distinctness be- comes absolutely necessary. 3. A proper degree of Slownesajs-required, both that the words may not run into each other, and also that no more sound be given out than the speaker can conveniently ut- ter at one breath. But, that he may not run into the oppo- site defect of a drawling manner, he will do well to seek the direction of a discreet friend. Elocution or Delivery. 2 1 1 4. The Pauses that mark the sense should be attended to. As distinctness^ of pronunciation keeps the syllables from running into one another, so the pauses should keep apart groups of words. Sentences are perfect groups, each of which makes a full sense. A larger pause will separate these. Within the sentences are smaller groups, which should be separated by minor stops, even when no marks of punctuation are written. Now, the voice should be so judiciously managed as to keep together all the words that are grouped into a common construction, and to separate those that are to a degree independent of one another. These pauses will, if carefully managed, allow the speaker to take breath and prevent him from feeling fatigued. 327. II. To convey emotions to the heart, whether the gentler feelings- that please or the stronger passions that arouse, attention must be paid to emphasis and to the tones. 1. Emphasis is aspecial stress laid on some words more than oiuitliefsr^tt is often used to distinguish the sense, as will be readily noticed by pronouncing a sentence like this, " Do you ride to town to-day ? " different times with differ- ent emphasis. Emphasis becomes a vehicle of emotion when the stress is prompted by the feelings of the speaker rather than by the bare requirements of the sense, as when the following lines of Byron, describing the " Dying Gladia- tor," are feelingly pronounced : " He heard it, but he heeded not ; his eyes Were with his heart, and that was far away ; He recked not of the life he lost, nor prize. But where his rude hut by the Danube lay : There were his young barbarians all at play ; There was their Dacian mother — he, their sire. Butchered to make a Roman holiday — All this rushed with his blood. Shall he expire, And unavenged? Arise, ye Goths, and glut your ire ! " 2 1 2 Memory and Elocution. 2. Tones are the peculiar modulations of sound which nature has adopted to express various feelings. Sheridan has said that " words express ideas, tones emotions " (Art of Reading). To utter different feelings in one and the same tone is like using one word to express different ideas. The prevalence of one only tone in a speech pro- duces monotony, which is as unpleasant as it is lifeless. The right management of the tones is the most impressive element in moving the heart. Now, if we remember that the power to move the heart is what properly denominates a man an orator, we shall readily understand how impor- tant is the study of the tones. Unfortunately, paper in- structions are powerless to teach the tones. Nature must dictate them, and the living voice may help to suggest them to imitative youths. But no one can explain on paper the peculiar modulations of voice with which a feeling heart will pour forth sorrow like this : " Alas, my noble boy ! that thou shouldst die ! Thou who wert made so beautifully fair ! That death should settle in thy glorious eye, And leave his stillness in this clustering hair ! How could he mark thee for the silent tomb, My proud boy, Absalom ! " Cold is thy brow, my son ! and I am chill, As to my bosom I have tried to press thee ! How was I wont to feel my pulses thrill, Like a rich harp-string, yearning to caress thee, And hear thy sweet ' My father ! ' from those dumb And cold lips, Absalom ! " — Willis. Still, these suggestions may be useful : i. The speaker must feel every emotion keenly. Here applies the maxim : Si vis me flere, dolendum est primum ipsi tibi. It is not enough that he has a tender heart ; he must himself viv- idly realize the situation. This power of conceiving pas- sion can be developed by judicious training in the declaim- Elocution or Delivery. 213 ing of pathetic passages in prose and verse. Boys have wonderful power of imitation in this regard. 2. Let speakers guard against such tones as are not prompt- ed by real sentiments. There exists in various localities a sort of sing-song, the outgrowth of mannerisms. Such are certain pulpit tones. The preacher, it is true, occu- pies a peculiar position. As ambassador of Christ, from whom he has a mission, he is entitled to speak with spe- cial authority, sicut potestatem habens — " like one having power." But there is no reason why he should be unnat- ural. Like the Apostle, "let him weep with those that weep, and rejoice with those that rejoice, and become all things to all men." Article II. Gesticulation. 328. G estures ar e motions of the body intended to add grace or expression to speech. Like tones, they are the language of nature — a language not equally developed in different nations and in different individuals, remarkably varied and expressive among the races of southern Europe, and as remarkably scanty and unmeaning among more northern peoples. The warning of Shakspeare, " Do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus," would be pointless among Italians, whose variety and expressiveness of gesture are almost as perfect as the music of their spoken language. It appears to have been the same with the ancient Romans : the figures painted in the Vatican copy of Terence represent the very attitudes and gestures familiar to this day among the modern inhabitants of the Eternal City. Among these, gestures are plentiful, even in common conversation ; children acquire the use of them as they acquire their mother-tongue. (See on Italian ges- ticulation one of Cardinal Wiseman's Essays, vol. iii. p. 531, or Dublin Review for July, 1837.) Among those nations 214 Memory and Elocution. that speak the English language the faculty of gesticulation needs careful training, and we may say with Cardinal Wise- man .- " We do think that our pulpit eloquence would be greatly improved by Italian gesture ; a species of action not considered as a poising of limbs alternately or by given laws, the stretching out of the right hand at one member of a sentence and of the left at another, as silly books on elocution describe, but of action considered as language addressed to the eyes, which as definitely conveys ideas through them as the words do through the ears, and which consequently rivets the spectator as much as the auditor, and makes men long to see the orator." But gesture should be taught by living masters. Van- denhoff, an accomplished elocutionist and a successful teacher of his art, says : " I know of no means of teaching gestures by written instructions ; nor do I think that much assistance can be gathered from plates of figures repre- senting different actions and attitudes." Still, he proceeds to lay down some general directions which substantially agree with those taught by all modern writers on the sub- ject, and with the minute rules formulated by Quintilian {Inst., xi. 3). Nor is this agreement to be wondered at, since gestures are a language of nature, and therefore must be radically the same among all men. 329. To gesticulate-properly an orator must have ac- quired a great facility to adopt all manners of attitudes and motions which are elegant and expressive. In particular he should be taught : 1. A dignified^jMjarjng fiLthe_body, not stiff, but firm, manly, and free, with head erect but not bolt-upright, chest expanded, feet not far apart. 2. A great variety of motions witETTiis-Tcrms, not start- ing from the elbow, as Adams strangely recommends, but from the shoulders, as elocutionists generally teach. Now Elocution or Delivery. 215 the right arm will move alone ; now, but rarely, the left one by itself ; often the two in unison. All the motions should be made in curves, for the curve is the line of beauty. The arms themselves must be extended in a curve, rarely straight at full length ; and when they hang down they must be in a natural posture of rest. 3. A prgg+ flavihility ahn^t. t.hft wrists and hands. There are comparatively few speakers " who have ever realized the wonderful life, vigor, and expression which lurk within a shapely and facile hand " (Potter, Pastor and People). " There is an extraordinary character in the palm of a well-shaped, nervous hand ; and this is equally evident, whether it be employed in the downward gesture of forbidding, crushing, or destroying, or whether it be turned toward the object addressed with the action of aversion, rejection, or repulsion. The action of the hands when they are closed or clenched in strong passion is wonder- fully vivid and expressive " (ibid.) Hence Quintilian remarks : " The action of the other parts of the body assists the speaker, but the hands, I could almost say, speak themselves." What a pity, then, that many persons appear to be at a loss what to do, during their discourse, with such awkward appendages as their hands seem to be ! 330. All these elements of declamation can, with proper training, be acquired by most speakers. Once possessed, they can readily be adapted to any particular discourse, provided proper judgment guide them. Judgment or common sense will direct them to the twofold end of, all elocution — elegance and power. Elegance requires that some gesture or other be used to reltenrsameness in the appearance of the speaker's person, and it will suggest such motions as are in unison with the sounds of the periods ut- tered. But the power_of_£zpression is the chief aim of ges- tures, whether these help to express the sense — as when 216 Memory and Elocution. they point to the spot where the object spoken of is im- agined to be, or they imitate the motions referred to— or whether, as is more usual, the gestures express the feelings of the soul. This latter kind of gestures is instinctive, like the tones : it expresses desire, aversion, anger, rebuke, sup- plication, horror, hope, dejection, despair, etc., etc., by very different motions, not of the hands only, but espe- cially of the countenance, and, above all, of the eyes, those mirrors of the soul. Expression of features can, of course, not be subjected to rules, nor can the motions of the hands be directed by rule alone. The soul must speak through the body, with which it constitutes one complete being. 331. Let the aspiring orator be taught in youth by a truly able master how to declaim properly some select pieces of prose and verse. Let him practise before some judicious friend on the proper application of tones and gestures to some of his early discourses. Then through life, provided he feels intensely the passions to which he gives utterance, and provided he is possessed of such social virtues as gen- tleness, modesty, etc., which will give the passions smooth- ness, he will be a graceful and a forcible speaker. 332. We scarcely see the necessity of adding further par- ticulars on the subject of gesture, unless it be to call atten- tion to some minor details. 1. The hands should seldom be closed. Their usual form is open, but not stiff ; with the fingers joined and slightly curved, except the index finger and the thumb, which are straight. 2. Shrugging the shoulders, or any such ungraceful mo- tion, and all grimaces should be carefully avoided. No buffoonery is ever allowed. 3. The gestures should be appropriate to the subject and the circumstances. Copious gesticulation is out of place in a familiar address ; wide gestures are ill-suited to trifling Elocution or Delivery. ' 217 matters, narrow ones to important thoughts. Modesty dic- tates the use of fewer gestures on starting out. 4. The eye must follow the direction of the hands. 5. The hands may somewhat anticipate the words to which they refer, but never linger behind them. 6. The hands are not usually to be raised above the eyes, nor to gesticulate below the waist. 7. The body should not swing like a pendulum. 8. The speaker should rise and come forward with dig- nity, and not begin his discourse abruptly, but when all are ready to hear him. 9. Practising before a mirror is often recommended, and it has advantages ; but a judicious friend or an able teacher is better than all the looking-glasses in the world. For a man may be blind to his own faults and mistake his oddi- ties for beauties. However, he might make use of a mir- ror to correct those defects to which others have called his attention. BOOK VI. THE DIFFERENT SPECIES OF ORATORY. 333. The purpose of dividing oratory into certain species must, of course, be to assist the orator in attaining the end or object for which he discourses. Now, this object is per- suasion — i.e., influencing the minds of his hearers ; there- fore the various species of oratory ought to be distinguished with reference to the minds of the hearers. " But the hearer," says Aristotle (Rhet., i. 3), " must neces- sarily be either an unconcerned hearer (dsoapo?) or one who is expected to decide (npirrji) ; and he is to decide either on things past or on things to come. Some, then, decide on things to come, as do the members of a popular assem- bly ; others on the past, as a judge in a court of justice (SiKaffTrj?) ; while others decide respecting excellence (3v va/xeoo?), as does the unconcerned hearer. Thus there will result three kinds of orations : the deliberative, the ju- dicial, and the epideictic. Cicero, in his Partitiones, calls the same " deliberati onis, judicii, exornationis." In the egideictic, more usually called by its Latin equiva- lent, dem onstrativ e, the hearer is to judge of excellence ; not of the excellence of the discourse alone, ~ but— also, and chiefly, of the excellence of the person or thing that is the 'subject-matter of the discourse. Some rhetoricians mis- understand this term, and consider demonstrative oratory as idle declamation. Webster's Dictionary, on the other The Different Species of Oratory. 219 hand, makes it " seek to persuade by full amplification." These are misconceptions. The distinction of species laid down by Aristot'r v is radi- cal and exhaustive ; every discourse that has real unity be- longs to one of these three kinds. The reason is that the hearer is necessarily in one of the three conditions stated above. 334. After laying down the essential difference between the species, Aristotle points out some accidental or sec- ondary differences. Deliberation, for instance, deals with exhortation and dissuasion ; it regards a future measure, viewed usually as expedient or inexpedient. Forensic rhe- toric, on the other hand, is concerned with accusation and defence ; it regards a past fact as just or unjust. Demon- stration is employed in praising or blaming persons for what is honorable or disgraceful ; it usually regards the present, for qualities presently possessed are wont to make a man admirable or contemptible. Aristotle calls all these differences accidental. Thus the, demonstrative may incidentally dwell on what is just or/ what is honorable in the person praised ; the deliberative) may consider the justice or the honorable character of the measure proposed, etc. But many modern rhetoricians confound what is accidental with what is essential, and sup- pose that whenever praise and blame are dwelt upon there is demonstrative eloquence. ^-Even J. Q. Adams, one of the most correct of modern critics, says (Lect. x.) that " the panegyric of Pompey in- terwoven by Cicero into his oration on the Manilian Law, that of Caesar in the oration for Marcellus, that of litera-^ ture in the oration for Archias, . . . and Cicero's invec- tives against Antony in his Philippics, against Piso, Cati- line, Clodius, and Verres in many others of his orations, 220 The Different Species of Oratory. are applications of the demonstrative manner in certains- parts of deliberative or judicial discourses." An important distinction is here overlooked by Mr. Adams. Not all pas- sages praising or blaming a person belong to demonstrative oratory, but such only as are addressed to the unconcerned hearers, deoopoi, as Aristotle calls them — that is, to men who are not actually engaged in making up their minds about a case or a motion. We have on a former occasion explained digressions (252) as passages in which the orator departs for a while from his subject for some special pur- pose. They resemble episodes in epic poetry. In this way demonstrative passages may be introduced in deliberative or judicial orations by way of digressions ; and the praise of poetry in Cicero's oration for Archias is a case in point. But, in most of the instances here mentioned by Adams, praise and blame are intended by the speaker to produce definite effects on the present decision of judges or delibe- rative bodies. This constitutes them in different species of oratory, and brings them under the control of different laws of composition. 335. The ancients, in laying down their logical divisions of oratory, viewed the mind of the hearer as variously con- ditioned ; but in all those varieties they considered the hearer as deciding or speculating on natural principles alone — natural justice, natural usefulness, natural honor. The moderns must add a fourth species of oratory to suit the peculiar state of mind of a hearer who views things in a supernatural light. This is sacred oratory, for which the ancients had no equivalent. We shall, therefore, treat in so many chapters of these four species : the deliberative, the forensic, the demonstrative, and the sacred. Dr. Blair scarcely does justice to this distinction, which, as he nevertheless acknowledges, runs through all the an- The Different Species of Oratory. 2 2 1 cient rhetorics and is followed by many moderns (Lect. xxvii.) He proposes what he calls a " more useful division, taken from the three great scenes of eloquence — from popular assemblies, the bar, and the pulpit." But, as Adams remarks, " we must reinstate demonstrative oratory in the place from which Dr. Blair has degraded it." CHAPTER I. DELIBERATIVE ORATORY. 336. Deliberative oratory, as has just been explained, supposes hearers who are expected to decide on a particu- lar measure. The orator is to aim at persuasion or dissua- sion, j Now, either of these implies not only the conviction — ef-fhe auditors' understanding, which is the task of forensic rhetoric as well, but also the moving of their will. Here, then, is a field which affords the speaker room for the dis- play of all the resources of his art. And as the audience is usually either very numerous or, if small, highly intellec- tual, and the subjects may be of the greatest importance, the deliberative is evidently a most noble species of ora- tory. \ Cicero, while assigning to forensic eloquence the "place of the highest difficulty, has assigned to the delibe- rative that of the greatest importance. 337. It is especially important in all lands in which the government is in whole or in part of the representative kind, and in none more than in the United States : " From the preponderance of democracy in the political constitu- tions of our country, deliberative assemblies are more nume- rous, and the objects of their deliberations are more diver- sified, than they ever have been in any other age or nation. From the formation of a national constitution to the man- agement of a turnpike, every object of concern to more than one individual is transacted by deliberative bodies. National and State conventions for the purpose of forming constitutions, the Congress of the United States, the Legis- Deliberative Oratory. 223 latures of the several States, are all deliberative assemblies. Besides which, in our part of the country, every town, every parish or religious society, every association of indi- viduals, incorporated for the purposes of interest, of educa- tion, of charity, or of science, forms a deliberative assem- bly, and presents opportunities for the exhibition of delibe- rative eloquence " (Adams, Lect. xi.) 338. In the precepts so far laid down for oratorical compositions in general, we have made frequent applica- tions to the eloquence of popular assemblies ; we shall now add some further explanations. Quintilian suggests an appropriate division of the subject : " In persuading and dissuading three particulars are chiefly to be regarded : what is the subject of deliberation, who are those who de- liberate, and what is the character of him who would in- fluence their decision " (iii. 8). We shall treat these three particulars in as many articles, and add a fourth on the style suited to various classes of deliberative assemblies. Article I. The Subject s of Deliberatio n. 339. The subje cts of delih Rra.tion. no matter how various in other respects, all agree in this one point : that they con- sider particular—m easures proposed for adopti on. Here applies all that has been said (b. i. c. 1) on the subject the qu estion, th e state o fjhe. gue.si imt^ etc. ; attention to those precepts cannot be inculcated with too much care. Hav- ing formed a clear idea of the motion before the meeting, of the measures to be advocated or opposed, the speaker must next consider by what arguments he can influence his hearers. For this purpose he may apply all the topics ex- plained above ; in particular he will attend to the follow- ing points : 1. The legality of the measure discussed. We shall let 224 The Different Species of Oratory. a statesman (J. Q. Adams) explain this matter : " The ar- gument of legality must always be modified by the extent of authority with which the deliberative body is invested. In its nature it is an argument only applicable to the negative side of the question. It is an objection raised against the measure under consideration, as being contrary to law. It can, therefore, have no weight in cases where the delibera- tive body itself has the power of changing the law. Thus in a town meeting it would be a decisive objection against any measure proposed that it would infringe the law of the State. But in the Legislature of the commonwealth this would be no argument, because that body is empowered to change the law. Again, in the State Legislature a measure may be assailed as contrary to the law of the Union, and the objection, if well founded, must be fatal to the measure proposed, though it could have no influence upon a debate in Congress. There, however, the same argument may be adduced in a different form, if the proposition discussed interferes with any stipulation by treaty or with the Con- stitution of the United States. The argument of illegality, therefore, is equivalent to denial of the powers of the de- liberating body. It is of great and frequent use in all deliberative discussions ; but it is not always that which is most readily listened to by the audience. Men are seldom inclined to abridge their own authority, and the orator who questions the competency of his hearers to act upon the subject in discussion must be supported by proof strong enough to control their inclinations as well as to convince their reason " (Lect. xi.) 2. The possibility. This also chiefly concerns the nega- tive. For fttt can be~proved that a measure is impractica- ble, incompatible with a necessary advantage, out of the question, absurd, or stultifying to the body deliberating, etc., this would defeat the motion altogether. We may Deliberative Oratory. 225 remark, that which is very difficult or very unreasonable is usually treated as impossible. 3. Necessity, on the other hand, is an argument for the af- firmative-iTtle^fiFthe measure is proved to be necessary or of extreme importance to the welfare of the public, it is thereby made imperative on the assembly to vote for it at any cost. 4. UtiUty_5£jexpediency, and the opposite quality, of use- lessness or inexpediency, if less decisive than the preceding topics, are far more frequently available. Comparatively few measures proposed in any assembly are either illegal, impossible, or absolutely necessary ; most of them are to be decided according to the preponderance of their advantages or disadvantages. Utility, therefore, is the topic most fre- quently to be consulted, and therefore Aristotle calls it the characteristic argument of deliberative oratory. 5. Justice or injustice, honor or disgrace, the peculiar topics of judicial and demonstrative eloquence, may often suggest powerful arguments in deliberation. They are then considered as special kinds of usefulness, as advantages which recommend the adoption or rejection of the motion. 6. Facility and difficulty of execution are likewise im- portant factors towards persuasion or dissuasion ; the con- sideration of these is rarely to be neglected, as the auditors are readily influenced by these motives. 7. Lastly, the argument of contingency is sometimes available ; we mean the reflection Llial, whether one or other consequence shall follow, in either case a real advan- tage will be the result of the course which we recommend. Thus Cardinal Wolsey advises Cromwell : " Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace. To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not ; Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's ; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr." 226 The Different Species of Oratory. Article II. The Characters of the Hearers. 340. Among the motiveT3~wKfch may influence an au- dience, the consideration of dutyjs certainly the most sa- cred, and it should be the mtJst powerful with all classes of men ; but, unfortunately, the reverse is the case with many. It is generally the least welcome and often the least effective with the hearers ; while flasswn^hich should be the weakest motive, is generall/me strongest, especially with coarser minds. Honor and interest occupy a middle region, the former being the nobler, the latter usually the more powerful. 341. But motives that will be most effective with one class of auditors will be of little avail with another. The orator must, therefore, stuij^the characters of his hearers that he may discriminate judicfcms ty, and i- a wslTcfuefly on such arguments as will act most powerfully on their minds and hearts. No better suggestions can be given in this matter than the following instructions of Cicero to his son : " The dis- course must be accommodated not only to the truth but to the taste of the hearers. Observe, then, first of all, that there are two different descriptions of men : the one rude and ignorant, who always set profit before honor ; the other polished and civilized, who prefer honor before everything. Urge, then, to the latter of these classes considerations of praise, honor, glory, fidelity, justice — in short, of every vir- tue. To the former present images of gain, emolument, thrift ; nay, in addressing this kind of men you must even allure them with the bait of pleasure. Pleasure, always hostile to virtue, always corrupting by fraudulent imitation 1 the very nature of goodness herself, is yet most eagerly pursued by the worst of men, and by them often pre- ferred not only to every instigation of honor, but even to Deliberative Oratory. 227 the dictates of necessity. Remember, too, that mankind are more anxious to escape evil than to obtain good ; less eager to acquire honor than avoid shame. Who has ever sought honor, glory, praise, or fame of any kind, with the same ardor that we fly from those most cruel af- flictions, ignominy, contumely, and scorn ? Again, there is a class of men naturally inclined to honorable sentiments, but corrupted by evil education and corrupt opinions. Is it your purpose, then, to exhort or persuade, remember that the task before you is that of teaching how to obtain good and eschew evil. Are you speaking to men of liberal edu- cation, enlarge upon topics of praise and honor ; insist with the keenest earnestness upon those virtues which contribute to the common safety and advantage of mankind. But if you are discoursing to gross, ignorant, untutored minds, to them hold up profit, lucre, money-making, pleasure, and escape from pain. Deter them, also, by the prospect of shame and ignominy ; for no man, however insensible to positive glory, is made of such impenetrable stuff as not to be vehemently moved by the dread of infamy and disgrace." Of course in the same audience there may be persons of very different characters ; all classes are to be supplied with arguments suited to each. 342. In connection with diversity of audiences we may refer to Edmund Burke's speech at Bristol previous to the election of 1780. It is considerably different in style from his discourses in Parliament. Goodrich says of it {British Eloquence, p. 292): "This is, in many respects, the best speech of Mr. Burke for the study and imitation of a young orator. It is more simple and direct than any of his other speeches. It was addressed to merchants and business men ; and while it abounds quite as much as any of his productions in the rich fruits of political wisdom, and has occasionally very bold and striking images, it is less ambi- 228 The Different Species of Oratory. tious in style and less profluent in illustration than his more elaborate efforts in the House of Commons. . . . Never was there a more manly and triumphant vindication." All this is certainly true. Why, then, did the orator fail of suc- cess ? Because his arguments were too noble for his con- stituents, who could not appreciate his exalted motives. He might have stooped to their level and succeeded in persuading them. He preferred to lose the election, and his speech did him honor. But his failure confirms our precepts. 343. It is proper here to remark that the consideration of utility— or expediency is far from being unworthy of the noblest minds, especially when, as representatives of the people, they are in duty bound to provide for the public welfare, and for the interests of their constituents parti- cularly. As no-iH]j]igt_2n.easure is to be advocated, so neither is a depraied— motive to be urged in support of any project. The end does not justify the means. Besides, even Cicero, without the light of Christian revelation, understood and taught his son that nothing is of solid advantage to the hearers but what is just and virtuous. Still, no one is in duty bound to aim on all occasions at the highest good nor to act upon the noblest motives. 344. A great difficulty often presents itself to the states- man in our day which was less formidable in past times. Parties have always existed in free states, and the deci- sions of the assemblies have usually been influenced by party spirit, irrespective of the arguments adduced. But in modern times the action of parties is probably more sys- tematized in representative bodies. Legislators have their minds fully made up to stand by their leaders ; they come to the meetings to vote, not to deliberate. Many may well say with Sheridan : " I have heard speeches that have made Deliberative Oratory. 229 me change my opinion, but my vote never." Even in such circumstances a strong, manly protest may often be as effi- cient of good results as it is honorable to the speaker, though it may not influence the present vote. Thus Fox, by his eloquent oration against the rejection of Napoleon's overtures, totally refuted the arguments of Pitt, who was then prime minister ; the ballot after Fox's speech stood 265 against 64, in favor of Pitt, and it looked as if the dis- course had been a total failure. But it was not : the House could not then afford to vote against the premier, but in a very short time the whole policy of England on this ques- tion was reversed. The two discourses of Fox and Pitt here referred to are masterpieces, and afford an excellent opportunity to study the handling of either side of an im- portant question (see Goodrich, Brit. Eloq.) Article III. The Or ator Him self. 345. In our Introductory Chapter we explained what natural talents an orator should possess, and what mental and moral qualities he should have acquired ; all those endowments are of especial importance in deliberative elo- quence. / The kijowieflge required of the speaker in this depart- /ment is as varied as the classes of subjects on which he may have occasion to discourse. If he is a statesman he should thoroughly understand the philosophical principles which support the whole social fabric. Wild theories, novel experiments, peculiar notions, bold speculations will only jeopardize the public weal. Strong common sense, confirmed by the experience of ages, enlightened by the soundest philosophy, and irradiated by the supernatural light of Christian revelation, is absolutely needed to pro- vide for the welfare of the people, especially in this age of 230 The Different Species of Oratory. restless social agitation. An extensive knowledge of his- tory, enlightened political economy, constitutional law and jurisprudence, will be of great assistance. 346. Vi rtue is no less necessary for the popular orator. " What stands highest in the order of means," says Blair (Lect. xxxiv.), " is personal character and disposition. In order to be a truly eloquent or persuasive speaker nothing is more necessary than to be a virtuous man. This was a favorite position among the ancient rhetoricians : ' Non posse oratorem esse nisi virum bonum.' To find any such connection between virtue and one of the highest liberal arts must give pleasure ; and it can, I think, be clearly shown that the connection here alleged is undoubtedly founded in truth and reason." The first reason he assigns for this is that a speaker who is known to be honest, candid, and disinterested enjoys the confidence of his hearers and gains their sympathy for the side he espouses, while the corrupt and crafty politician is distrusted. Secondly, virtue is most favorable to the prosecution of honorable studies ; it inures the mind to industry, frees it from bad passions, and removes it from mean pursuits. For, as Quintilian remarks, " nothing is so violently torn and shattered by conflicting passions as a depraved heart. Amidst the distractions which it produces, what room is left for the cultivation of letters or the pursuits of any honorable art ? No more, assuredly, than there is for the growth of corn in a field that is overrun with thorns and brambles." Thirdly, and chiefly, from the fountain of real and genu- ine virtue are drawn those sentiments which will ever be most powerful in affecting the hearts of others. Bad as the world is, nothing has so great and so universal a com- mand over the minds of men as virtue. Deliberative Oratory. 231 347. The virtues especially needed in this department of eloquence are : 1. Unflinchin g fidelity to principles, both moral and religious. — ■""" """' ■ 2. Si ncere Pat riotism — i.e., devotion to the true honor and real happiness of 1 the country. 3. Magnanimity, disdaining whatever is at all objection- able in-rfTeans and ends. 4. Conscientious respect for the rights of all men, even of the lowest. *""" ■ 5. Civil or moral courage, which is as noble as military courage and far fess common. 348. There is a conspicuous example of this in a speech of Lord Mansfield, spoken before a mob that strove to overawe him in his court of justice : " Give me leave to take the opportunity of this great and respectable audience to let the whole world know all such attempts are vain. . . . We must not regard political consequences, how formid- able soever they may be. If rebellion was the certain con- sequence we are bound to say, ' Fiat justitia, ruat coelum ! ' ... I wish popularity, but it is that popularity that fol- lows, not that which is run after. It is that popularity which, sooner or later, never fails to do justice to the pur- suit of noble ends by noble means. I will not do that which my conscience tells me is wrong upon this occasion to gain the huzzas of thousands, or the daily praise of all the papers which come from the press. I will not avoid doing what I think is right, though it should draw on me the whole artillery of libels. . . . The threats go farther than abuse — personal violence is denounced. I do not believe it. It is not the genius of the worst of men in this country, in the worst of times. But I have set my mind at rest. The last end that can happen to any man never comes too soon, if he falls in the support of the law and liberty of his country," etc. (Brit. Eloq., p. 154). 232 The Different Species of Oratory. It was by such qualities as we have enumerated that Demosthenes and Cicero, Chatham and Burke, O'Connell and Grattan, Webster and Calhoun, reached that high emi- nence of influence and renown which no amount of skill or elegance of style could of themselves have secured. Of Chatham in particular Macaulay remarked : " That which gave most effect to his declamation was the air of sincerity, of vehement feeling, of moral elevation, which belonged to all he said " {Essays, " Chatham "). Article IV. The__Style. 349. As style is the peculiar manner in which a writer or speaker "expresses his thoughts, it will, of course, vary with the circumstances of the orator, with the nature of his sub- ject, and especially with the character of the audience to which he is laboring to communicate his views. Severely exact in his discussion of law before learned judges, rich and magnificent in demonstrative orations, the speaker before deliberative assemblies will adapt himself to the varieties of his subjects and of his hearers. It will, there- fore, be useful to consider style in connection with these different circumstances. § 1. Speeches before Promiscuous Assemblies. 350. To this class belong especiaTTy^actcTresses at mass- meetings, at political gatherings, and the better class of such as are called stump-speeches. The leading qualities of all these should be : 1. Sound sense, solid thought, no trifling with the com- mon sense of the hearers, nor idle display of oratorical beauties, especially on very grave occasions, when men are too earnest to be pleased by ornaments. Deliberative Oratory. 233 2. Striking clearness, no intricate reasonings, but facts, comparisons, anecdotes, ready wit, all expressed in lucid, forcible, pictured language. 3. Warm feelings, but only such as the audience can be made to share. Popularity is most readily achieved by expressing in more apt language than would occur to the listener himself thoughts and emotions already lurking in his mind. Thus we win first, and next lead, our hearers. The more a promiscuous crowd is composed of the rude and uneducated the more it will be swayed by passion and sympathy. Still, even a mob will admire striking exhibi- tions of courage and firmness, and despise cowardice, in those whose duty it is to restrain its violence and maintain public order and peace. But whether severe measures or a prudent forbearance be determined upon, a calm tone and imperturbable good-nature, with a seasoning of humor and the absence of all bitterness, are powerful aids for the popu- lar orator. 4. Boldness and power, even of lungs, gesture, tone, and style, are necessary in addressing numerous popular meet- ings. Moreover, only strong arguments, too, are appre- ciated on such occasions. " Not a voice like a flute, a nar- row breast, a dwarfish stature, philosophical gestures, and eyes modestly cast down will enrapture the masses in the open air. The people do not appreciate eloquence and genius except under the emblems of power," says the French rhetorician Cormenin. But boldness does not mean arrogance ; a mob expects more deferential manners in its orator than a senate does. 351. An English lawyer, Mr. E. W. Cox, gives some use- ful hints on what he calls " the Oratory of the Platform " {The Arts of Writing, Reading, and Speaking). He is of opinion that the first of the above rules is of minor im- portance when ladies make up the bulk of the audience. 234 The Different Species of Oratory. Pathos, beautiful language, a pleasing voice, refined man- ner, and a graceful appearance he declares to be sufficient with such hearers. Even if this were all that such hearers would appreciate, it is not all that his sense of duty will require of the speaker. Besides, Mr. Cox's view is hardly plausible. § 2. Speeches before Select Audiences. 352. We refer here especially, but not exclusively, to legislative bodies, such as the British Parliament, the Con- gress of the United States, the Legislatures of the several States, etc. Of speeches made in such bodies we may distin- guish three classes: 1. Reports of committees, and all such writings and addresses as are supposed to convey important information ; presidential messages belong to this division ; 2. Formal speeches on any measure discussed ; 3. Mere busi- ness remarks. 353. Those of the first kind should be especially pru- dent, exact, moderate in tone, concise, lucid. Those of the second kind should be : (a) Telling, by hitting the precise point, which is often done by laying down clearly the real state of the ques- tion. (b) Fresh, lively, and rapid, to relieve tedium, except on occasions of unusual gravity. Comparatively few men can command the attention of such an audience during a long speech. Even of Edmund Burke it is said that he often spoke to empty benches, for this very reason, that his ora- tions were not lively and rapid ; but they were lectures of the didactic kind and wearied his hearers. Especially let no one bring an argument a thirtieth time, nor even a second time, after it has been handled by a much abler speaker. (c) Ready and pliable, as various circumstances may re- Deliberative Oratory. 235 quire. This does not exclude most careful preparation, even writing the discourse, as all should do who have not had much practice in public speaking ; but it requires a certain readiness in adapting the prepared speech to the new phases of the debate. {d) Discreet, so as not to speak on every question, nor refute every objection at full length, nor become pathetic on trifles. (