CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY FROM Cornell University Library arW37642 The art of discourse 3 1924 031 787 348 olin.anx Library The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924031787348 THE ART OF DISCOURSE A SYSTEM OF RHETORIC ADAPTED FOR USB IN COLLEGES AND ACADEMIES, AND ALSO EOK PRIVATE STUDY. • BY HENRY N.'^AT, AUIHOB OF LOGIO ; GRAMMATIOAL SfNTHESIS, Oo'aBT OF ENGLISH OOMPOSmON ; &H£IOKIOAI. PRAXIS, £10. " True ease in writing comes from art, not chance." — Pope. tt I hope ultimately to adyance so fiir that art shall become a second nature, aa polished manners are to well-bred men ; then Imagination shall regain h^ former freedom, and submit to none but voluntary limitations." — ScMUer. NEW YOEK: CHAELES SCRIBNER. AND COiMPANY, 1867. rt3 Entered according to Act of Congress, in tlie year 1867, by Henri N. Day, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the District of Connecticut. k I! 5^ ('7- T""' i^' 6"»'t/ /y EI7EB8IDE, OAMBBIDGE : .STBKEOTTPBD AMD PRINTED BY H. u. HOUQilTON AND OOMPANT. PREFACE. The present work is a reconstruction of the author's " Elements of the Art of Rhetoric," first pubHshed in 1850. The distinctive pecuharities of that work were the elevation of Invention, or the supply of the thought, to the first and commanding rank in rhetorical instruc- tion ; the reduction of the principles of Rhetoric to more exact system and method, both in respect of its internal properties and also of its relations to kindred arts and sciences ; and the stricter treatment of Rhetoric as an art rather than as a science. The work has been received with great favor in all parts of the country ; but both in its outward dress and also in its contents it invited some attempts at improvement. The principal changes in the text will be found in the more definite indications of the relations of Rhetoric to Logic and Esthetics, and the fuller and clearer application of logical and aesthetic principles to the construction of discourse ; the fuller and more definite development of the nature and processes of Explanation, or the un- folding of thought ; and the more exact classification of the properties of Style. A leading aim in the re- construction has been to exhibit the grounds of. all the principles of the art in the nature of thought and of language, so as to enable the kamer to discern the logical accuracy and completeness of its divisions, its IV ~ PEEFACE. processes, and its properties ; as the design has been not merely to present a collection of doctrines and observations for acquisition as bare knowledge, but to make practical thinkers and writers — to put students of discourse on a course of training which if faithfully pursued shall secure to them a perpetual growth in power as thinkers and also as speakers and writers. An indispensable condition of such continuous growth is an intelligent apprehension of the essential nature and laws of each of the diverse processes in which thought may be presented to other minds. A moment's reflec- tion will satisfy any candid mind that the expectation of reaching, any high degree of skill in the con- struction of discourse, whether written or extempore, without separate study and practice in each of these general processes, is just as preposterous as the ex- pectation of attaining mathematical skill by general practice in computing, without specific study of the elemental principles of quantity, and practice in the fundamental rules of computation. As the only com- mon-sense method of acquiring arithmetical skill is by the study of the ground-rules of arithmetic, one by one and successively, — addition, subtraction, multipli- cation, division, of reduction of fractions, evolution and involution, proportion, — not by general exeVcises in computation involving any or all these processes in com- bination, so the only rational method of acquiring skill in writing and speaking is by the separate study of each process of presenting thought. Having well grounded himself thus in these processes, the student of discourse may go on ever perfecting his skill in the handling of thought, in the shaping of it for the various pbjects of his discourse, and in the ultimate embodi- PEEFACE. V ment of it in fit and eifective verbal expression. Pro- ceeding in this way, the training in discourse — in writing compositions — instead of a repulsive drudgery, to be shirked in every way possible, becomes an attract- ive as it will be felt to be a rational procedure, and of eminent utility. Exercises- have been subjoined to the several de- partments of Invention and Style, as fully as seemed desirable. They will be found sufficient for private study. In classes under permanent instructors the selections of exercises must necessarily be left to a great extent with the instructor. In the author's " Rhetorical Praxis " may be found two thousand or more themes, with rudimental exercises in all rhetorical processes. His " Art of Composition " contains the principles of proper sentence-construction, presented in progressive method, including an introduction to the use of imagery or rhetorical symbols and to the ele- mentary processes in the unfolding of thought, and accompanied throughout with copious exercises. ,New Haven, January, 1867. CONTENTS. — « — INTEODUCTION. CHAPTER I. PAOX § 1. Definition of Bhetoric 1 CHAPTER n. OP THE PROVINCE AND KELATIONS OF RHETOKIC. § 2. Founded on the Faculty of Discourse 4 §§ 3 -9. Relations to Logic, iBstlietics, Etbics, Grammar, and Elocution 6 CHAPTER HI. OF THE UTILITY OF EHETORIC. §§ 10, 11. Fact and Degree 16 §§ 12-19. Means 19 CHAPTER IV. OF DISCOURSE AND ITS KINDS. §§20-22. Oratory 26 §§ 23-31. Derived Species — Epistolary Composition, Poetry, Repre- sentative Discourse 28 §§32-34. Forms of Oratory. — Judicial, Deliberative, Sacred . . 36 j CHAPTER V. OF THE DEPASTMENTS OF RHETORIC. § 35. Invention, Style 39 Vm CONTENTS. FIRST GENERAL DIVISION - IN VENTION. GENERAL VIEW. CHAPTER I. OP THE KATHKE AND PARTS OF INVBHTION. PAOB § 36. Deftnition 43 §§37-40. Parts 42 CHAPTER II. OF THE GENERAL THEME OF A DISCOURSE. §§ 41-46. Principles of Selection 45 § 47. Moral End of Discourse 48 § 48. Objects of Discourse 48 § 49. Processes 49 §§50-52. Unity 49 § 53. Departments of Inyention 51 CHAPTER III. OF THE PARTS OF A DISCOURSE. §§ 54-59. Essential Parts — Proposition and Discussion ... 52 §§60-65. Subsidiary Parts — Introduction and Peroration . . . 53 PART I. — EXPLANATION. CHAPTER I. GENERAL INTRODUCTORY VIEW. §§ 66-68. Nature of Explanation 57 §69. Theme .58 § 70. Laws — 1. of Unity; 2. of Selection; 3. of Method; 4. of Com- pleteness gg § 71. Clearness and Distinctness g2 §72. Definition ' . " 62 §§ 73, 74. Processes — Narration, Description, Division, Partition, Exemplification, Comparison and Contrast ... 66 CHAPTER II. OF NARRATION. § 75. Nature ». §76. Theme ..." 72 CONTENTS. IX ■PAOB §77. Law of Unity 72 §78. Law of Selection 74 §79. Law of Method 76 § 80. Law of Completeness 77 Exercises in Narration 77 CHAPTER ni. OF DESCRIPTION. §81. Nature 78 §82. Theme 79 §§83-86. Laws 79 Exercises in Description 81 CHAPTER IV. OF DIVISION. § 87. Nature 83 § 88. Theme 83 §§ 89-92. Laws 84 Exercises in Division 89 CHAPTER V. OF PARTITION. § 93. Nature 91 § 94. Theme 92 §§95-98. Laws 92 Exercises in Partition 96 CHAPTER VI. OP EXEMPLIFICATION. §99. Nature 98 § 100. Theme 99 §§101-104. Laws 100 Exercises in Exemplification 103 CHAPTER VIL OF COMPARISON AND CONTRAST. §§ 105, 106. Nature 104 §107. Kinds— Simple, Analogical 106 §108. Theme 107 §§109-112. Laws 107 Exercises in Comparison and Contrast .... 109 X CONTENTS. CHAPTER Vm. OP THE INTRODUCTION AND PERORATION IN EXPLANATORY DISCOHRSB. PAOK §§ 113, 114. Introduction — Explanatory, Conciliatory . . • H" §§115,116. Peroration — Forms, Order m PABT n. — CONFIRMATIOIS". CHAPTER I. GENERAL INTRODUCTORY VIEW. §§ 117-119. Object, Theme, Process 112 §§ 120-122. Regard to Mind addressed 114 CHAPTER H. OF THE THEME IN CONFIRMATION. §§ 123, 124. Form, Statement 116 CHAPTER III. OF PEOOF. §§125-127. Nature, Kinds, Process 118 §128. The Topics 120 CHAPTER IV. OF THE TOPICS. §129. Object 121 § 130. General Division of Proofs 122 §§131-133. Analytic Proofs .123 §§134-136. SyntheticProofs — 1. Intuitive; 2. Empirical . . 124 §§ 137-141. Antecedent Probability 130 §§ 142-146. Signs — Testimony, Authority 135 §§ 147-154. Examples .139 §155. Complex Arguments . . . .V^. ... 148 §156. Validity of Empirical Proofs 151 § 157. Applicability of Arguments to different Subjects ... 151 CHAPTER V. OF THE ARRANGEMENT OF ARGUMENTS. § 158. Importance . iga §§159-161. Principles . . . . . ' . ' .153 CONTENTS. XI CHAPTER VI. OF FKESDMPTION ; OK, THE BDKDEK OF PKOOF. PAGE §162. Definition 156 §§163-167. Principles 158 CHAPTER Vn. OF BEFUTATIOS. §§168-170. Definition and Nature 161. § 171. Statement of Objectione 162 - § 172. Principles of Arrangement 162 . CHAPTER VIII. OF THE INTRODUCTION AND FEBOBATION IN CONFIRMATION. § 173. Introduction Explanatory 164 §§ 174r-183. Introduction Conciliatory 164 §184. Peroration 168 Exercises in Confirmation ° 169 PART pi, — EXCITATION. CHAPTER I. GENERAL INTRODUCTORY VIEW. il85. Object 171 i 186. Process 172 i§ 187-191. Laws 172 CHAPTER II. OF THE THEME IN EXCITATION. i§ 192, 193. Form 176 (§194-197. Statement 177 CHAPTER in. OF PATHETIC EXPLANATION. i§19a-202. Principles 180 XU CONTENTS. CHAPTER IV. OF THE EMPLOYMENT OF SYMPATHY IN EXCITATION. PAGE §203. Necessity |*f 55 20i, 205. Modes — Direct and Indirect 18" §206. Degree • •^°° CHAPTER V. OF THE INTEODUCTION AND PEEOKATION IN EXCITATION. §§ 207, 208. Kinds admissible 188 Exercises in Excitation 189 PAKT IV. — PERSUASION. CHAPTER I. GENEBAL INTRODDCTOKY VIEW. §§209-211. Objects 190 §§ 212-214. Process and Laws 191 CHAPTER II. OF THE THEME IN PEESUASION. §§215,216. Form and Statement 193 CHAPTER III. OP PERSUASIVE EXPLANATION, CONFIRMATION, AND EXCITATION. §§ 217-219. Persuasive Explanation 195 § 220. Confirmation 196 § 221. Excitation 197 CHAPTER IV. OF MOTIVES. § 222. Definition 198 §§223-229. Classes 199 § 230. Principles of Selection 202 CHAPTER V. OF SPECIFIC ACTS OF PEKSDAStON. §§ 231, 232. Persuasion, Dissuasion, Incitement .... 203 CONTENTS. XIU CHAPTER VI. OF ABRANGEMEST IN FEK8UA8ION. PAGE ) 233-238. Principles 204 CHAPTEE Vn. OF THE INTEODUOTION AHD PEKOKATION IN FEB8CASION. i 239, 240. Kinds admissible 206 . ' Exercises in Persuasion 207 SECOND GENERAL DIVISION -STYLE. GENERAL VIEW. CHAPTER I. OF THE HATOBE OF STYLE. § 241. Definition ' 208 §242. Analysis 209 CHAPTER U. OF THE GENERAL PBOPERTIEa OF 8TTLE. §§243, 244. Divisions — Absolute, Relative 211 PART I. — ABSOLUTE PROPERTIES. CHAPTER I. GENERAL VIEW OF LANGUAGE AND ITS PROPERTIES. § 245. Definition 213 §§246-249. Divisions — Oral, Suggestive, Grammatical . . .216 CHAPTER n. OF THE ORAL PROPERTIES OF STYLE. §§250,251. Divisions — Euphony, Harmony 218 §252. Study 220 CHAPTER IIL OF EUPHONY. _' §§ 253-255. Principles of Euphony 222 XIV CONTENTS. CHAPTER IV. OF HAKMOHY — HAEMONIT PEOPEK. FAGX §§256,257. Nature— Divisions, Harmony Proper, Rhythm, Melody 225 §§258,259. Harmony Proper, Definition, Principles ... 226 CHAPTER V. OP RHYTHM. §§ 260-263. Definition, Principles 230 CHAPTER VI. OF MELODY. §§ 264, 2^. Definition, Kinds 235 § 266. Melody of Proportion — Nature, Principles .... 236 §§ 267-271. Melody of Arrangement — Nature, Principles . . 239 Exercises on the Oral Properties of Style 245 CHAPTER Vn. OF THE SUGGESTIVE PBOPEBTIES OF STYLE. §§ 272, 273. Kinds 247 §§274-280. Imitative Properties 247 §§ 281-283. Symbolical Properties 253 Exercises on the Suggestive Properties .... 257 CHAPTER VIII. OF THE GRAMMATICAL PROPERTIES OF STYLE. §§284-287. Kinds, Standard of Purity 258 §§288,289. Barbarisms 260 § 290. Solecisms 262 §§ 291, 292. Improprieties 264 Exercises on the Grammatical Properties .... 266 PART n. — SUBJECTIVE PROPERTIES. CHAPTER I. GENERAL VIEW. 5 293-295. Definition, Divisions 273 CONTENTS. XV CHAPTER II. OP SIGMIFIOAHCE IN STYLE. PAGE § 296. Requisites 276 fepT. Spurious Oratory 276 f298. Tlie Nonsensical 277 CHAPTER in. OF CONTLmJOUSNESS IN STTLE. §§299,300. Definition, Modes of Expressing 280 CHAPTER IV. OF NATITBALNESS IN STYIiB. §§ 801-305. Definition, Fonns 283 PART m. — OBJECTIVE PEOPERTIES. CHAPTER I. GENERAL VIEW. §§ 306-309. Definition, Kinds 289 CHAPTER n. OF CLEARNESS IN STYLE. §§ 310, 311. Definition, Source 292 § 312. Kinds of Words required 293 §313. Number of Words 296 § 314. Representative Imagery 297 §§ 315-318. Structure of the Sentence, Relative Words, Arrangement of Members, Parentheses 299 CHAPTER III. OF ENERGY IN STTLE. §§ 319, 320. Definition, Kinds 303 §§ 321, 322. Proper Energy, Sources 304 §323. Brevity 305 § 824. Representative Imagery 306 §§ 326-329. Arrangement, Unity, Capital Members, Coordinate Mem- bers .......... 308 § 330. Figurative Energy, Sources 312 §§ 331-333. Tropes .313 XVI CONTENTS. PAOB §§ 334r-337. Simple Tropes — Synecdoche, Metonymy . • • ^" § 338. Metaphors 316 §§339,340. Repetition, Ellipsis 318 § 341. Representative Imagery, Species ?f° § 342. Vision, Personification, Hyperbole 319 § 343. Comparison or Contrast 321 § 344. Prosopopoeia, Apostrophe, Irony, Doubt, Interrogation . ■ 324 §§ 345-349. Inversion, Anacoluthon,Aposiopesis, Sententiousness . 327 §§ 350-353. Principles of Figurative Expression 330 CHAPTER IV. OF BEAUTY IH STYLE. §§ 354, 355. Definition, Elements 332 §356. Propriety 335 § 357. Tone 337 §358. Grace 338 §§359-362. Culture of Beauty 339 Exercises on the Objective Properties of Style . . . 341 /l. INTRODUCTION. — « — CHAPTER I. DEFINITION OF RHBTOKIC. 1. Rhetoric has been correctly defined to be the Akt of Discouese. ^ This definition presents Rhetoric as an art, in distinction from a science. There are divers fundamental respects in which an art of discourse differs from a science. An art directly and immediately concerns itself with the faculty of discoursing as its proper subject. It fastens upon that and keeps it ever in its view as it teaches how that may be de- veloped, trained, and guided. A science, on the other hand, regards rather the product of this faculty ; and, keeping its view directly upon that, proceeds to unfold its nature and proper characteristics. In perfect accordance with this pri- mary distinction, Art aims ever at skill as its one governing end and object ; whereas. Science aims only at knowledge. Still further, and in perfect keeping with these distinctions, the method of Art is synthetic, constructive ; while that of Science is analytic and critical. Art takes element by ele- ment, marks out stage by stage successively, and constructs and develops into a composite, harmonious whole of power and skiU ; while Science dissects the given whole of dis- course, and leaves it unfolded, exphcated into its several parts and elements. In outer form there will be much that is common in a true art and a true science of Discourse, 1 I IN rRODOCTION.. inasmuch as all art must proceed in intelligence, that is, in science ; the product of a faculty must partake of the proper character of the faculty. Skill involves knowledge ; and analysis implies synthesis. But a proper art will be devel- oped in a very different spirit from a science ; it will ever be putting the learner upon practice, and abound in cautions and rales, while a science will content itself with mere facts and truths. Accordingly, the most critical and thorough mastery of a science will not suffice to make an artist ; and a certain skill and tact may exist in comparative ignorance, of principles. There will be more or less of difference, thus, in the matter which makes up the body of an art and that of a science. An art will, in particular, present exercises for the practical application of its rules, which would be entirely foreign to the design and nature of a science. In respect of immediate subject, therefore, as also of aim, of method, and of matter, a proper art wiU differ from a science. The definition also presents discourse as the limiting or specific subject-matter of the art of Rhetoric. This term, discourse, like many others in language, is used in different connections, for three different purposes : to denote the fac- ulty, the exertion or operation of the faculty, and the result or product of the operation. By earlier writers it was em- ployed to denote the discursive faculty of intelligence, in dis- tinction from the original faculties, — from the presentative, or the intuitive in the broader import of the word as includ- mg both the perceptive and the proper intuitive ; as "It adds to my calamity that I have Discourse and Reason.:' Massinger. " Eeason is her being, Biscm-sive or intuitive ; discourse Is oftest yours, the latter most is onra." — Milton. The term is used also to denote the exercise of this faculty as thus discriminated from the faculties of original knowl- edge. Thus Chillingworth : « By discourse no man can pos- INTRODUCTION. 3 eibly be led to error ; but if he err in his conclusions, he must of necessity either err in his principles, or commit some error in his discourse; that is, indeed, not discourse, but seem to do so." The use of the term to denote the product of this faculty is too familiar to require exemplification. But these uses of the term as so far indicated respect thought rather as internal and unexpressed. The term very naturally has come to denote also objective thought, — thought as uttered, as communicated. Such, indeed, is the more common use of the term at present. And as the nat- ural embodiment of human thought is in language, we ordi- narily understand now by the term discourse, thought com- municated in language. The more particular determination and development of this general notion of Rhetoric will be presented in the chapters that immediately foUow. THE AET OF DISCOURSE. CHAPTER n. OF THE PROVINCE AND RELATIONS OP EHETOKIC. § 2. The proper province of Rhetoric, as also its specific relations to other arts and sciences, are deter- mined at once by the faculty which it immediately and exclusively respects, — the faculty of discourse, or the capacity in man of communicating his mental states to other minds by means of language. As has been already stated, every art immediately regards a faculty which it is its proper aim and object to develop and train. The art of vocal music fastens thus on the fac- ulty of song ; the art of computation, on the faculty of com- puting by numbers. Rhetoric, as the art of Discourse, in like manner, fastens on the faculty of discourse. This term, — discourse — in its more strict and proper im- port, denotes only the discursive, the reflective faculty of intelligence. It excludes in this stricter import the percep- tive and the intuitive faculties, as well as the exercises of the sensibilities and of the wiQ. And it is in a certain sense cor- rect to say that Rhetoric concerns itself only with this fac- ulty — the faculty of comparison, of thought in its narrower import, which is the more recently accepted use of the word. For human speech is properly and strictly the embodiment of thought — of the exercises of the discursive faculty. The feelings and the dispositions of the wiU find expression in Missing Page Missing Page PROVINCE AND RELATIONS OF RHETORIC. 7 ters and conditions by these sciences respectively. It is plain that Rhetoric must found itself on all ^- not on one to the exclusion of the others. This mistake or defect in founding Rhetoric on one to the exclusion of the other nomological sciences has singularly marked leading rhetorical treatises. Dr. Whately thus has regarded Rhetoric as an offshoot of Logic. He accordingly restricts its province to argumentative composition, excluding from it aU consideration of judgments and concepts, and ad- mitting only reasonings — in fact, only one and the less im- portant class of reasonings, although all are equally logical products. Dr. Blair, on the other hand, in his extensive work on Rhetoric, treats it throughout as a mere department of .Ms- thetics — a purely critical art, lying wholly within the domain of Taste. Still further, to limit exemplifications to single authors, the able German rhetorician, Theremin, makes the art a purely ethical procedure. Eloquence, he claims, is a virtue. These views are all of them partially correct. They are, however, all imperfect and' one-sided. The more exact rela- tions of Rhetoric to these sciences respectively will be exhib- ited in the sections that immediately follow. § 4. In respect of the matter of discourse, Rhetoric derives its regulative principles more immediately from Logic ; in respect of the form of discourse, from Es- thetics ; and in respect of the end or object of dis- course, from Ethics. Every rational procedure contains these three elements \ matter or content, form, and end. In discourse, the matter or content is thought ; and it is the especial function of log- ical science to prescribe the conditions and forms of thought. But, in discourse, thought is uttered, expressed. It takes \ a form ; and it is the proper function of sesthetical science to prescribe the conditions and elements of form. 8 THE ART OF DISCOURSE. Further, discourse is more than mere thought, more than mere thought uttered or formed ; it is thought communicated, implying a mind addressed ia the communication. It looks to an end, and it is the proper province of Ethics to prescribe the conditions and forms of all rational procedures as deter- mined by their governing end. In all discourse, it should be remarked, as in every form of rational activity, the whole spirit moves, as a thinking, feeling, wUling power, ever one and undivided. _ In every thought it thinks, feeling, taste is involved, as is also disposi- tion, purpose, will. We are able, however, to discriminate these several aspects of its complex action, and to regard any of its acts more exclusively as an act of thought, or as a product of taste, or as an expression of purpose. So, like- wise, any act of the spirit of man may present one or another of these elements in greater prominence relatively to the others. It may be more predominantly and characteristic- ally an act of thought, an act of taste, or an act of intention or determination. Yet it should never be forgotten that no one of these elements is utterly wanting. In every thought, taste and conscience are really concerned, even when rela- tively they are only concerned to a slight degree. § 5. Rhetoric, in respect of the matter of discourse, more immediately grounds itself on Logic. Logic, in its stricter and more scientific impori, is the sci- ence of the conditions and forms of thought ; of thought as the product of the discursive faculty of the intelligence — the faculty of thought in the narrower sense. This is the faculty of the True, its essential function being to recognize the true in all objects of human knowledge. As such, it is the highest faculty of human intelligence, and its product the culminating product of our powers of cognition. All per- ceptions and all mtuitions are for this faculty of Thought the faculty of the True. The mind never rests satisfied with them, but ever presses on from attaining any perception or PROVINCE AND RELATIONS OF RHETOKIC. 9 intuition to some judgment respecting it, or still fui ther to some derivative from the judgment as a concept or a reason- ing. Perceptions and intuitions are the dMa to thought, — seeds, germs, which reach their ultimate form and perfection only as taken up and shaped into this highest form of the intellectual life. Rhetoric grounds itself more immediately on Logic, because this science furnishes to it the various forms of thought, the various forms of the True as the im- mediate elements of all discourse — its proper subjects-matter, in which all sentiment and feeling, as all disposition and purpose, are embodied for communication to other minds. More than this ; all discourse effects its object — communi- cates to others — by means of language ; and language is but the creation and instrument of thought. Discourse, there- fore, looks to Logic not only for its matter suitably formed and shaped for its use, — for all its forms of thought through which alone it expresses feeling and purpose, — but also for its forms of language, through which alone as its medium and organ it reaches the mind which it addresses. But although Rhetoric holds thus immediately of Logic, it is no proper department of that science. It bears a relation to it, although far broader and far more comprehensive, sim- ilar to that of arithmetic, or the art of computation. When Aristotle says, as quoted by Dr. Whately, that Rhetoric is an offshoot of Logic, we are not to understand him as mean- ing to teach that it is a department of that science any more than as meaning to teach that it is a department of Ethics, when he says, in the same connection, that it is an offshoot of Political Science. § 6. Rhetoric, in respect of the form of discourse, grounds itself more immediately on ^Esthetics. ^Esthetics is the science of Form. Otherwise it may be defined, in respect to its proper object, as the science of the Beautiful. Or still farther, it may be defined, in respect to the mental experience of the beautiful, as the science of 10 THE ART OF DISCOURSE. Taste. The Beautiful is the perfect in form, and bears the same relation to a proper object of the sensibility that the True bears to a proper object of the intelligence. The taste is the culminating form of the sensibility, as the judgment is the cuhninating form of the intelligence. All other forms of the sensibility stand in the relation of data, conditions, germs, to the taste-sensibility, just as all other forms of the intelligence are but data, conditions, germs, to the discursive intelligence, or faculty of thought proper. Inasmuch as discourse necessarily has form, it comes un- der the control of the science of form — the science of the Beautifid, or of Taste — proper esthetic science. Rhetoric, accordingly, presupposes and assumes this science. It ac- cepts from it its notion of what form is ; of the nature, the elements, the kinds of the Beautiful ; of the conditions and gradations of Taste. The construction and the formation of discourse is throughout an sesthetic procedure. Ju&t so far as it proceeds without the control of Taste or ia violation of the proper conditions of the Beautiful, it is imperfect, not full, proper discourse. Taste must be exercised in the selec- tion and management of the thought which is the proper matter of discourse. It must, especially and predominantly, control the embodiment of the thought in language ; for this is, more essentially and characteristically, an aesthetic pro- cedure. ^ It must, moreover, ever guide in the adaptation of discourse to the mind of the hearer ; for all mind is aesthetic in its nature, and, to be properly and eflfectually moved, must be addressed in accordance with its aesthetic nature. Its taste must not be offended, if the fuU end and object of dis- course is to be realized. We shall find, thus, the principles of Taste appearing all along throughout the entire art of dis- course, as rules to guide in its construction. The same view of the relations of Rhetoric to JEsthetic science wiU present itself if the matter be regarded from another species of aesthetic nomenclature; for it is to be borne in mind that psychological science is here immature. PROVINCE AND RELATIONS OF RHETORIC. 11 and its nomenclature is exceedingly deficient in definiteness and precision. The imagination is very generally recognized jn current literature as the proper aesthetic faculty. It is properly defined to be the faculty of form. But this is a view of it taken from the active side. It is not only faculty but capacity of form. It receives as well as offers. It is both forma formans and forma formata. Its proper func- tion and province as passive, as capacity, is to receive objects so formed as to be in relation to the receiving mind — to re- ceive them, in other words, as forms, and as active, as fac- ulty, to represent objects as formed to other receiving minds ; in other words, to present forms. As discourse is, in its proper, essential nature, a communication to other minds, it is the imagination which is the more essential faculty con- cerned in discourse. Its special province here is to form the thought in such verbal body that it shall be received by the mind addressed. In a true sense, therefore, the construction of discourse is the proper work of the imagination as the faculty of form. It comes, accordingly, under the immedi- ate control of aesthetic principles, which are but the laws of the imagination. In like manner, if the view be taken from the other side — from the effect of discourse in the mind addressed — it is clear that, only as the discourse is shapedr in accordance with the conditions on which the passive imagination, the imag- ination as the capacity of form, can receive it or be impressed by it, can there be any communication of thought, any dis- course. It must, consequently, in order to accomplish its proper end, be aesthetic. It must be regulated throughout by the principles of aesthetic science. § 7. Rhetoric, in respect to the end of discourse, grounds itself more immediately on Ethics or moral science. Ethics, defined in respect to the highest form of the men- tal faculty which it respects, is the science of the will ; or in 12 THE ART OF DISCOURSE. respect of the proper object of the will and in its positive and most perfect form, the science of the Good. The human spirit moving towards an object in the necessary activity of, its nature moves right or wrong, towards good or evil ; and all its proper action participates in a moral nature, as it is the outworking of a proper moral being. Discourse, as commimication and address, is so far ethical,, moral, in its character. We shall find, accordingly, the art of discourse assuming and applying proper ethical principles aU along. It accepts these principles, as it does those of logic and of aesthetics. It does not profess to investigate and establish them. All this is foreign to it, and it is an error of an imperfect, one-sided, and partial view of the matter, to represent Rhetoric as a department of Ethics, equally as to represent it as a part of Logic or of Esthetics. § 8. Rhetoric, in respect to the outward body of dis- course, which is language, grounds itself immediately on the science of Grammar. Gramrnar is the science of the sentence, in other words, of the verbal expression of a thought. It takes from logic the various forms of thought, and prescribes the proper forms in which they should be expressed in language. As an aft, the proper object of which is to teach how to speak or write cor- rectly and well, and consequently, as constructive in its proper method, it begins with the elemental forms of tliought, presenting one by one successively, and indicates the form of word which language furnishes for expressing it, and pro- ceeds thus, step by step, stage by stage, with appropriate exercises for practice precisely as in an art of arithmetic, through all the general forms of thought and all the forims of verbal expression appropriated respectively to those forms of thought, till it has unfolded the whole art of constructing the sentence. Here Grammar, as the science of language, properly stops. Rhetoric, as the art of discourse, begins PROVINCE AND RELATIONS OF RHETORIC. 13 just at this point — begins where grammar stops. It ac- cepts the whole doctrine of the sentence as taught in gram- mar. It does not investigate nor elaborate the principles of the sentence. It is not a department of grammar, as gram- mar is not of rhetoric. It presupposes grammar, and with these grammatical principles assumed, it proceeds to treat of the communication of thought through language, through the sentence, to another mind. Grammar, thus, is conditional to rhetoric ; but not, like logic, aesthetics, and ethics, condi- tional as a science, but as an art, elementary and constitu- tive. It stands much in the relation to rhetoric in which arithmetic stands to mensuration. It is rudimental, prelim- inary, and introductory to the proper art of discourse. It should be familiarly understood by the student of discourse before he commences this art, as arithmetic should be practi- cally mastered before one studies engineering or surveying. As the common treatises on grammar in the English language are rather sciences than arts, having as their governing end knowledge or science rather than skill, and, being analytic rather than constructive in their method, it will not be out of place here to indicate the proper study of grammar as conditional and introductory to rhetorical studies. Grammar should be studied as an art rather than as a science, since the more important object, by far, to be at- tained by the study, especially if the grammar be that of one's vernacular tongue, is skUl in speaking and writing the language, not skill in interpreting discourse. The study, therefore, should proceed, as already indicated, by distinct stages, giving opportunity for thorough e:^ercises on each suc- cessive element or principle, for acquiring a perfect practical mastery of the whole art of sentence-construction. There are three widely distinguishable stages in the art, bearing a close analogy to those in arithmetical study. There is, first, what may be viewed as grammatical notation, embracing the art of paragraphing, punctuating, and capitalizing. This 14 THE ART OF DISCOURSE. should be first and separately mastered, as not only prevent- ing distraction in proper rhetorical practice, but also as posi- tively helpful in working into the mind of the learner that idea of progress by stages which is so essential in all dis- course through all its clauses, sentences, and paragraphs, and, moreover, of unity and relative subordination in its parts. The second stage embraces the ground-rules, so to speak, of the sentence, founded on the principles of its constituent elements, — the subject, the predicate, and the copula, with their respective forms and modifications. The third stage em- braces the more general processes in sentence-construction, in which the elements of the second stage, the subject, the predicate, and the copula, in their respective forms and mod- ifications, are constructed into proper sentence-form. This stage exactly corresponds to that stage in arithmetic which embraces the doctrines of Fractions, of Roots and Powers, and of Proportion, — it contains the rules of Concord or Agreement, of Arrangement, of Propriety, and of Precision. Here, also, may be properly included a familiar and practi- cal introduction into the use of imagery — the doctrine of symbolism in language. "With this thorough methodical grounding in the principles pf proper sentence-construction, the learner is prepared intelligently and without distraction to enter upon proper rhetorical studies. § 9. The art of rhetoric cannot in strictness be re- garded as having accomplished its end until the mental states to be communicated are actually conveyed to the mind addressed. It, therefore, may properly compre- hend Delivery. The mode of communication, however, is not essen- tial. The thought may be conveyed by the pen or by the voice. Elocution, or the vocal expression of thought, is not accordingly a necessary part of rhetoric. Elocution or vocal delivery has, indeed, generally been PROVINCE AND RELATIONS OF RHETORIC. 15 esteemed a constituent part of the art of rhetoric. Diverse considerations, however, justify the propriety of separating them. First, Elocution is not essential to rhetoric in order to constitute it an art ; because, as has been already remarked, there are other ways of communicating thought than by the voice. Secondly, we have a complete product of art when the thought is embodied in a proper form of language. Short of this, of incorporating into language, the artist cannot stop. For no art is complete till its product is expressed, or em- bodied. Mere invention does not constitute the whole of artistic power, in any proper sense of that expression. But when the thought is invested in language, a work of art is completed. A further exertion of artistic power is not ne- cessary in order to give it expression. It requires no skill to dictate, no oratorical dexterity, certainly, to commit to writing. We have then the limits of a complete art before elocution. Thirdly, the arts of rhetoric proper, and of elocution, are so distinct that great excellence in either may consist with great deficiency in the other. There have been many orators who could write good orations but were miserable speakers ; and many excellent actors, who were utterly unable to con- struct an original discourse. Fourthly, the modes of training in these different arts are so unlike, that convenience, both to the instructor and to the pupil, requires that they be separated. CHAPTER m. OF THE UTILITY OF EHETOEIC. § 10. As every proper art respects a faculty, and as every such faculty is susceptible of development and invigoration which the art seeks as its great aim to promote and secure, every true conception of rhetoric must regard it as a developing and invigorating art. There is a most remarkable opposition between the views of the ancients in this respect and the current opinions of the moderns. With the ancients, rhetoric was chiefly prized as an art which developed and cultivated the faculty of speaking. Their written systems and their teachings in schools were designed and fitted to draw out this faculty, and strengthen and improve it by judicious practice. They sought this even, as there is some reason to believe, at the sacrifice of good taste. They loved luxuriance and labored in every way to promote it. The moderns, on the other hand, have too much regarded rhetoric as a merely critical art. They have directed their attention mainly to pruning, repressing, and guiding ; and have almost wholly neglected to apply any stimulus to the faculty of discourse itself. Their influence on the student of oratory has been, accordingly, at best but a negative influence, and any thing but fostering and nourishing. This has been an almost unavoidable result from their excluding from their systems the art of invention. For it is here — in invention — that the creative work in discourse mainly hes. Style, considered apart from inven- tion, is lifeless and dead, and can feel no stimulus if applied. Missing Page Missing Page Missing Page Missing Page OF THE UTILITY OF RHETOKIC. 21 The other class reject practice in acquiring an art, because, as regulated step by step by a reference to rules, it is neces- sarily imperfect and awkward, and because practice merely for practice must be mechanical and spiritless. They would master, intellectually, the principles perfectly, and then hope for a perfect proceeding in compliance with them. WhUe the former class made art independent of intelligence, these ^make it independent of all training of the creative powers. They occupy, consequently, the opposite extreme. The truth lies between. It is a law of the human spirit that its highest degree of free spontaneous action can be at- tained only by previous subjection to rule ; and, generally, the severer the labor in the observance of this principle, the freer will be the play of the creating spirit. Katura fieret laudabile carmen an arte QuEBsitum est. Ego nee stadium sine divite vena Neo rude quid posset video ingenium. Alterius sic Altera poscit opem res et conjurat amice. HoBAT., Ep. ad Pison. These rules, of old discovered, not devised, Are Nature still, but Nature methodized. Pope, Essay on Orit. § 13. The knowledge of the nature and principles of the art of rhetoric is attained chiefly in two ways ; namely, by the study of rhetorical systems, and by the study of models in eloquence. The great use of systems of rhetoric, as of other arts, is to facilitate the acquisition of the principles of the art by a brief, methodical, and particular exposition of them. Such systems present the results of the investigations, the experi- ence, and the observations of many minds. The utility of grammars of music to all learners of that art is at once per- ceived and appreciated. A similar utility may be expected from correct systems in all the arts. The study of models is equally important. It is hardly practicable for the human mind to obtain a clear and famU- .22 THE ART OF DISCOURSE. iar knowledge of any art without illustrations and exemplifi- cations. This great means of training the ancients denom- inated imitation. In the use--of this means, much caution is necessary. In the first place, discretion and sound judgment are requi- site in the selection of models. An immature taste is liable to be pleased with false beauties and excellences. A cor- rupt taste will select a model that abounds in the faults which it loves, and thus confirm rather than correct itself. Becipit exemplar vitiis imitahile. The only safe guide is the established opinion of men of taste and sound judgment. The world has pronounced its sentence in regard to many writers and speakers. This general and united decision it is ever safer to follow than the erratic judgment of an indi- vidual. As says Coleridge : " Presume those to be the best, the reputation of which has been matured into fame by the consent of ages. For wisdom always has a final majority, if not by conviction, yet by acquiescence." In the next place, caution is necessary in the actual study of even good models. A perfectly faultless model is no- where to be found. The best poets and the best orators have shone only in particular excellences. As in Nature, perfect beauty is to be found in no one thing, but our con- ception of it is to be gained only by selection, by combin- ing the particular excellences that are to be found in different objects of the same class, excluding the imperfections of each, in order to obtain a perfect ideal ; so in literature and oratory, as in every art, an idea of what is perfect in every feature, is to be gained only by the study of various prod- ucts. While, accordingly, the best models are to be selected for study, even these should be studied only for their char- acteristic excellences. Nothing can be more injurious to the taste or to the creative faculty of invention than servilely to copy any one model, however excellent. Such servile im- itation will, for the most part, catch up only the faults, while it will fail to reach the virtues of the model, and at the OF THE UTILITY QF RHETORIC. 23 same time prove fatal to all that originality which is the life of every art. It is the proper fmietion of a system of rhetoric to point out the best models in the several properties of good dis- § 14. Every art as a developing art must rely- mainly on judicious exercise as the means of attaining its end. No knowledge of principles, however thorough, no study of models, however extended, will make an artist without exercise. Indeed, there is a possibility of cultivating the judgment and the taste to an excess as compared with the creative power, so as to impede rather than to aid the exer- tion of it. A highly refined taste wiQ be offended and dis- gusted with the imperfect products of a feeble inventive and constructive power; and the work of composing may be made thus a constantly disagreeable and repulsive work. This is experienced by nearly all who have neglected the art of writing or speaking tUl the taste has become consid- erably developed and cultivated. They find themselves un- able, in writing or speaking, to reach the standard that their refined taste requires them to attain, and they are repelled and disheartened. It is only when the creative power is developed in some proportion to the taste, that there can be that inspiration which fires the true artist, and makes the exertion of his power his highest pleasure and delight. This development of the creative faculty depends on exer- cise. As with the muscles of the body, so. with the faculties of the mind, nothing but exercise can impart vigor and strength. Exercise is the parent of skill and power every- where, and nowhere more than in writing and speaking. The words of Cicero should be printed in capitals on the mind of every student of eloquence, — stilus optimus et PE^STANTISSIMUS DICENDI EFFECTOR AC MAGISTEE. 24 THE AET OF DISCOURSE. § 15. Exercise in rhetoric, in order to be most bene- ficial, must be intelligent, systematic, critical, and abundant. § 16. Intelligent exercise implies that writing and speaking be pursued in accordance with the known rules and principles of rhetoric. Little will be acoomplished by blind practice in any art. A man may shout and cry, may strain his voice ever so much and make little progress toward becoming a good musician or a good speaker. The practice must be pursued with a clear, conscious knowledge of what the art requires. And here is seen the necessity of systems of rhetoric — to set forth in a convenient form to the learner the necessary prin- ciples of the art ; to teach him what he is to do in it. § 17. Systematic exercise implies a regard to the specific functions or duties of the writer or speaker taken one by one successively in regular order. Every art combines within itself a complication of many particular acts, of which in the exercise of the art there are, at different times, various combinations. The art of music thus embraces the several functions of pitch, time, force ; and each of these particular functions may be an- alyzed into various subordinate particulars. A thorough course of training in this art must proceed by a regular, suc- cessive study of each of these particulars, accompanied by a corresponding exercise of the voice in them. There are thus a great diversity of acts requisite in the production of a good discoTu-se- These particular acts may be severally contemplated by themselves ; they may be explained as to their nature, and be prepared for exercise singly and suc- cessively. This systematic exercise upon particulars is as requisite and as useful in rhetoric as in music. § 18. Exercise, further, in order to be most useful, OF THE UTILITY OF RHETORIC. 26 must be critical ; in other words, must be subjected to the inspection of a teacher or of the performer him- self, for the purpose of removing faults and retaining qualities that are good. The proper time of criticism is after the performance is finished. To write or to speak with a constant reference to criticism at the time, is to impose on the mind a double labor or occupation, so that neither part of the work can be done well. Such subsequent criticism is shown to be necessary at once by the consideration, that otherwise it cannot be known whether the work has proceeded aright or in accord- ance with the principles that should regulate it. It also greatly helps to give the principle exemplified in the exercise a practical, controlling existence in the mind. § 19. Once more, skill in Rhetoric cannot be attained except by much continued practice. No illustration is requisite to show the correctness of this principle. It may be remarked here, however, that the labor of writing should not be pursued so constantly as to make it a drudgery, awakening no interest and inspiring no enthusi- asm. Under proper limitations, skill is dependent on exer- cise. Gaudent sudorihus artes. The general aversion to " composition exercises," so far at least as it is not a bare form of indolence, is chiefly owing to the faulty mode of pre- scribing such exercises without any indication to the pupil of what he is to do, except in the mere general requisition to furnish a " composition,'' and before any training in the specific processes of discourse. That the recourse by earnest students of discourse to reading, in consequence of this aver- sion to writing, is wholly a mistake, is clear, from the reiter- ated testimony of one who had cultivated this art with the greatest devotion, Jean Paul Richter, who says : " Very often have I said that all hearing and reading does not half so much strengthen or delight the mind as writing and CHAPTER IV. OP DISCOURSE AND ITS KINDS. § 20. Discourse, as the communication of thought, implies at once and necessarily, in its primary and complete signification, a speaker and a hearer ; — a speaker, who in speaking seeks to produce a certain effect in the mind of the hearer. This effect is primarily in the intelligence or under- standing of the hearer ; and secondarily and consequen- tially in the feelings and the will. § 21. Oratory, therefore, or address, is the proper form of discourse in its strictest and fullest impost. It constitutes, accordingly, the immediate object of Rhet- oric. The very nature of discourse, thus, marks out the field of rhetoric as the art of discourse ; and determines in what light the art should regard other so-called forms of discourse, as history, essay, and the like. These are, strictly speak- ing, abnormal forms of discourse, and want some element which is to he found in proper oratory. Rhetoric, in the unfolding of its principles, should confine its view to oratory, therefore, not only because oratory is the only pure form of discourse, but, also, because in unfolding the .principles of oratory, it at the same time unfolds the main principles of the other derived forms of discourse. It is only from con- siderations of expediency and not of philosophical accuracy that general rhetoric embraces any of these abnormal spe- OF DISCOURSE AND ITS KINDS. 27 cies. At least, it has fulfilled its office when it has indicated the distinction between pure discourse or oratory, and the several more irregular or derivative forms, and thereby made known the principles which come in to modify the laws of proper rhetoric in its application to them. § 22. The primary and essential characteristic of Oratory as distinguished from other forms of discourse lies in its implying the direct opposition of speaker and hearer, and the aim on the part of the former to pro- duce a certain effect in the mind of the latter. Whenever, accordingly, this opposition is lost sight of by the speaker, his discourse ceases to be oratory. It falls at once into the essay or some other impure form of discourse. Hence the first principle to be observed in all oratory or ad- dress — that it ever respect the mind oi the hearer, and regard it as present to be influenced by the discourse. This IS THE SPECIAL Law OF OrATORT. Although it may be difficult, for the most part, to single out the particular forms of expression in which proper ora- tory may be distinguished from mere essay, still the true oratorical spirit will reveal itself throughout the discourse, and give to the whole a peculiar coloring. There are, however, some particular expressions that can be named by which oratory is at once distinguished from the essay. Oratory, thus, always conceives of itself as a pro- cedure in time and not as an object in space ; and hence avoids the use of the adverbs of place to designate what has preceded or is to follow, and uses those of time. The orator never says, thus, " what I have said above," but " what I have said before ; " the essayist does the reverse. The ora- tor says, " I will speak of this hereqfter," not "further on,'' etc. Again, the orator does not conceive of himself as the mere mouth-piece of the assembly, and does not, therefore, identify himself with the audience in the use of the plural 28 THE AET OF DISCOUKSE. prounouns, " we," " our," etc. It is otherwise in public prayer ; it is otherwise, also, with the essayist. The essayist merely expresses or utters forth, without the controlling idea of a listener, thoughts or sentiments which he regards as common to himself and the reader. The distinct personality being dropped, the use of the plural becomes easy and natural. Hence, probably, the "we" of editors and critics. They express not individual but common convictions and senti- ments. § 23. Of the derived species of Discourse, and more immediately subordinate to Oratory, a variety is distin- guishable which drops from Oratory only the idea of a present hearer. It is Epistolary OoThposition. As it differs from proper Oratory only in the cir- cumstance that it addresses an absent mind. Epistolary Composition conforms more closely than other derived species to the principles of Rhetoric. Its chief pecul- iarity lies in its not contemplating vocal delivery. It will be remarked that while epistolary composition more frequently respects a single mind, proper oratory re- spects more commonly a multitude. At least, oratory rises to its highest perfection when addressed to a large assembly ; for then the moral elevation, which is the proper soul of oratory, is highest. But epistolary composition, when ad- dressed to multitudes, rises to high degrees of eloquence ; as is seen in the epistles of the Apostle Paul. When the epistolary form is adopted for the form's sake, it then falls into the rank of mere Representative Discourse. § 24. The two leading forms of discourse, coordinate with Oratory and differing from that in the circum- stance that they drop the idea of a mind addressed as the ruling idea in the representation of thought, are Poetry and Eepresentative Discourse. In Poetry, the end of the discourse is not characteristically to affect OF DISCOURSE AND ITS KINDS. 29 another mind, but to express the idea in its most per- fect form and for the sake of the form. In Representa- tive Discourse, even the form becomes subordinate, as well as the effect on another mind ; and the idea is presented for its own sake. § 25. We have, thus, the characteristics of the three great divisions of Discourse : — Oratory represents for the sake of the effect on an- other mind ; Representative Discourse represents for the sake of the theme itself; Poetry represents for the sake of the form. In Oratory, accordingly, the exterior aim rules ; in Representative Discourse, the matter; in Poetry, the form. The intimacy and relationship between these several forms of representation in language are in this view clearly indi- cated. The intrinsic dependence of the form on the matter, the common attributes of the mind that addresses and of the mind that is addressed, and their common relationship to truth as the matter of discourse, show at once how large a field is common to all these arts. Particularly, is it seen how slight are the modifications of the principles of proper oratory which an art of representative discourse requires. Indeed, as already observed, these modifications are, in the main, such as cannot well be set forth in distinct forms of language. The great truth that underlies this whole matter is that in all discourse, as, indeed, in every proper movement of man's spirit, his whole nature, as intelligent, feeling, willing, — log- ical, esthetic, and ethical or moral, — is concerned. He never utterly sinks or lays aside his feeling or moral nature when he thinks ; much less does he drop his intelligent na- ture when he feels or wills. In other words, his thought is 30 THE ART OF DISCOURSE. ever penetrated by sentiment and purpose ; as his sentiments and purposes are ever in intelligence. But one or another of these departments of mind may be, relatively, more or less prominent ; one may so predominate as to cast the others into the shade. As the intellectual element prevails, man appears as philosopher ; as the Eesthetic, he is recognized as poet ; and as the ethical, he becomes an orator. Or, to pre- sent the same truth in the terms of the proper matter of discourse, — idea, which is ever the proper content of all dis- course, may be presented in itself irrespectively of all out- ward relations ; it is, then, the True ; and where that rules we have proper representative discourse. But idea may be presented as in outward relation, yet without distinct respect to any special end or object, simply as idea expressed, idea formed, and then it becomes the Beautiful or proper Forn^ and when that rules we have poetical discourse. And, still further, idea may be presented as in movement toward some outward object or end ; then it becomes the Good in the larger sense, that is, the Moral; and when that rules we have proper oratory contemplating an end, an effect in another mind. Inasmuch as the moral in man involves and presupposes feeling and intelligence, this view of the distinctive charac- teristics and relations of the different forms of discourse cor- roborates the position before taken that oratory is the highest form of discourse. In oratory the whole man, intellectual, assthetic, and moral, moves predominantly and characteristi- cally outward and to an end. It is, therefore, more distinct- ively moral in its proper nature. In a higher sense than in respect to the poet or the philosopher, the maxim so emphat- ically recognized by the ancient rhetoricians holds of the orator, that he must be a good man in order to his highest success. The question has been much agitated whether oratory is to be regarded as a proper assthetic art. It has been raised and discussed in the light of what must be deemed to be a OF DISCOURSE AND ITS KINDS. 31 narrow and defective classification of the arts. This classi- fication recognizes two classes, one of which is denominated the class of the -Esthetic, Free, Liberal, Fine, or Elegant arts ; the other, that of the Mechanical or Useful arts. This classification excludes every third class ; and necessitates the rejection of oratory from the arts, unless it be either a free art, like poetry and painting, or mechanical, like carpentry or agriculture. Dr. Campbell, however, accepting as the proper distinction of the two classes, that " use is the direct and avowed purpose " in the usefiil arts, " whereas it is more latently and indirectly " so in the elegant arts, considers elo- quence with architecture " as of a mixed nature, wherein utility and beauty have almost equal influence." The source of the confusion and error is in opposing beauty and utUity, as if in necessary contradiction to each other. And to attain the truth in the matter, we have only to apply the logical principle of strict contradictory opposition. We may thus classify all arts in reference to beauty as those in which it is free, and those in which it is not free, that is, those in which it is dependent or subservient to another end than mere form. Discourse must be recognized, under this classification, as characteristically free in poetry; but as dependent in ora- tory, as also in all representative discourse. But as poetry itself may modify its freedom when it enlists in the service of philosophy, as we find to be the case in that species of poetry called Didactic, so oratory and philosophical discourse may, as in the loftier flights of eloquent or imaginative dis- course, rise to the aesthetic freedom of true poetry. In a true sense, however, true oratory is ever aesthetic in its char- acter, as has been already indicated; for it expresses and proceeds from an assthetic nature ; effects its end, also, in its addresses to another like esthetic nature ; and as the very essence of oratorical art consists in the embodiment of thought in language, in other words, of idea in form, oratory must be accepted as a true aesthetic procedure. Rhetoric, like architecture, is something more than a decorative art which 32 THE ART OF DISCOUKSE. adds ornament to something that is not of itself esthetic, or that may be perfectly adapted to its end without being in taste. It is of its own nature and essentially an asthetie art, although not lying in the department of free beauty. Oratory must be beautiful in its form in order to its very perfection. This cannot be said of a tool, a machine, a prod- uct of any mechanical or any merely useful art. Oratory, therefore, cannot in any truth be classed among the mechan- ical arts. § 26. Poetry is that kind of discourse in which the idea is expressed for the sake of the form. It is one of the arts of Free Beauty. The special Law of Poetry is, accordingly, that the selection and treatment of the idea to be expressed, of the imagery, and likewise of the diction, all be gov- erned by the principle of Form or Beauty. This is the proper Law of poetical composition. In the different species there is admissible in different degrees the depression of this as the relatively predominant principle, and the elevation of the principle of exterior aim or effect, so that it approximates so far to proper oratory. But it 'is ever this characteristic that makes discourse poetical, — that it more or less drops the principle of exterior aim and devi- ates from the method imposed by such foreign aim in order to be led by the principle of form. The control of this principle, as has just be6n remarked, reaches to the idea expressed, as well as to the exterior em- bodiment of it in imagery and diction. Poetry has an inner essence of its own, a proper spirit and life, as well as a proper body. " Verse," it has been justly observed, " is not synon- ymous with poetry, but is the incarnation of it ; and prose may be emotive— poetical, but never poetry." Both may ex- press feeling. But " eloquence supposes an audience ; the peculiarity of poetry lies in the poet's utter unconsciousness of a listener. Poetry is feeling confessing itself to itself in OF DISCOURSE AND ITS KINDS. 33 moments of solitude, and bodying forth itself in symbols which are the nearest possible representations of the exact shape in which it exists in the poet's mind. Eloquence is feeling pouring itself forth to other minds, courting their sym- pathy, or endeavoring to influence their belief, or move them to passion or to action.'' Accordingly it is only in partial truth that we can say " mere verse is poetry ; " as we can only in partial truth say " an idiot is a man," since reason, which the idiot lacks, is the essential attribute of man. So, on the other hand, it is only in partial truth that we can say " the peculiar poetic spirit without the proper poetic form makes discourse poetry." It is only as we may call a disem- bodied spirit a man ; it has the essential nature, not the form. As a human spirit and a human body unite in our concep- tion of a man, so the poetic spirit and the poetic form must unite in any just conception of poetry. § 27. Different kinds of poetical composition may be distinguished on two different leading principles of division, according as we regard the character of the subject or the particular mode or means of representa- tion, — the represented idea or the form representing. Distributed in reference to the subject or idea repre- sented, as the three species are truth, sentiment, and action, we have the generic division of Poetry into I. Didactic ; II. Lyeic ; III. Epic and Dea- MATIC. Didactic Poetry includes what is sometimes called the Descriptive, the Pastoral, the Satirical, and the like. Lyric Poetry includes divers subordinate forms of poetical composition, variously modified, and known under the familiar names of the Ode, the Psalm, and the Hymn, implying representation in music, and also the Sonnet and the Elegy. 34 THE ART OF DISCOURSE. The third class embraces the two leading forms of the Epic, in which the representation is by means of narration and description, and the Dramatic, in which the representation is by means of proper action and scenery which take the place of narration and de- scription in the Epic. Subordinate divisions of these leading species are of the Epic into the Heroic and the Burlesque or Mock-heroic, and of the Dramatic into Tragedy and Comedy. § 28. Repkesbnxative Discourse, so far as it di- verges from proper oratory in dropping the opposition of speaker and hearer, has for its special law the repre- sentation of its theme for its own sake. All Representative Discourse, as such, accordingly, has for its controlling principle the followuig, namely : — That the thought be represented in its utmost clear- ness, accuracy, and completeness. § 29. Representative Discourse is either Pure or Mixed. It is pure when its theme is represented irrespect- ively of personal modifications, and, accordingly, in its own proper character. It is mixed when it is represented as modified by the peculiarities of personal apprehensions and convic- tions. The Epicurean, by Moore, is an exemplification of the mixed form of representative discourse, in which but one mind is introduced by whose personal characteristics the representation is modified. Ancient life is in it represented through the experience of another, not from the direct obser- vations of the author. Where two or more persons are introduced, the discourse OF DISCOURSE AND ITS KINDS. 35 is called a Dialogue. The Dialogues of Plato, of Fonte- nelle, of Berkeley, are exemplifications of this variety. § 30. The special Law of Mixed Representative Discourse is, that the personal characteristics of the speakers introduced, so far as niodifying the theme, be carefully exhibited throughout the representation. The Dialogues of Plato are the most perfectly constructed specimens of the Dialogue, perhaps, that exist, so far as this first law of the discourse is regarded. If the representation be for the sake of the form, the dis- course becomes Poetry. We have, then, the Monologvs, when but one person is introduced ; and the poetic Dialogue, when more than one are exhibited. If the representation exhibits an action, it becomes Dramatic. § 31. Of the Pure Representative Discourse, two general classes, each embracing subordinate varieties, are distinguished according to the character of the sub- ject. We have thus : — I. History, the subject of which is some fact or event, single or continuous, in nature, as Natural ffis- tory, or among men, as History Proper. Under History is included Biography, the subject of which is facts in individual experience ; and Travels, which is but a more specific department of biography, having facts of a specific character in individual experience for its subject. II. Scientific Treatises, including the Essay or Dissertation, the subject of which is some truth, not mere fact, as is the case in History. It is to be remarked respecting the Pure Representative Discourse, that it easUy admits the proper distinguishing characteristic of pure oratory — the opposition of speaker and hearer. Just so far as it does this, the full form of 36 THE ART OF DISCOURSE. oratory appears ; so far, at least, as address to a locally- absent mind will allow. It is not unnatural, thus, that the historian begins his history as an addressing mind, and uses the forms of address. Thus Macaulay begins his history : " I propose to write the history of England." As, however, the idea of representing the facts of history for their own sake and not for the sake of the moral effect on other minds begins to rule in his mind, the oratorical forms, as those of the first person, of time instead of space, fall away, and the discourse approaches to the character of the pure rep- resentative. § 32. Peoper Oratorical Discourse may be dis- tributed into different kinds on either of two different principles, giving rise thus to two distinct sets or classes. One principle of distribution is found in the specific character of the ultimate end of discourse. The other is found in the specific character of the immediate end of discourse. § 33. Oratorical Discourse may be distributed, in respect to its ultimate end, into two departments, ac- cording as that end lies wholly in the mind addressed or beyond it ; in other words, according as the final object of the discourse is attained in tlie effect pro- duced on the mind addressed or only in some ulterior object through such effect. In proper pulpit discourse, thus, the preacher seeks, as his final and controlling end, the personal character of his hearer, looking to nothing beyond as more controlling and predomi- nant. In forensic oratory, on the contrary, the advocate seeks to influence the judge only that he may secure a favor- able determination through him of some interest of his client. He pleads not to enlighten or convince the judge as his ulterior motive ; but to win his case through the decision of the judge. OF DISCOURSE AND ITS KINDS. 37 The fields of oratory are not marked off by very definite boundaries on this principle of distribution. But we have departments of' eloquence which are very conveniently dis- tinguished from one another by this characteristic, of the end of the discourse lying wholly within or beyond the effect on the mind addressed. In the first department, in which the final object of the discourse is found in the mind addressed, the leading branch is that of Sacred Oratory, the ultimate end of which is the highest moral or religious elevation and improvement of the hearer. Here, also, lies all that Philosophical or Didactic Oratory, which seeks to enlighten or instruct the heaier, embracing the Lecture, the Scientific Discourse, and the like. Here, too, lies that department classed by the ancients as one of the three leading branches of oratory, called the Demonstrative or Epideictic, embracing the Panegyric or Eulogy, the object in which is to awaken the sentiment of approbation or of censure in the hearer. Here, moreover, lies all that oratory so common in modern times, the object of which is specially Moral Eeform. In the second department, characterized by its end Ipng beyond the hearer and to be attained through him, are, prom- inently, the two great departments of secular eloquence, the Judicial and the Deliberative. These differ from each other in respect to the governing idea, and also in respect to the field proper to them. Judicial oratory has the idea of the right for its governing idea, and its chief province is in the proceedings of civil judicature. Deliberative oratory has the idea of the good, the useful, the expedient, for its governing idea, and is chiefly found in legislative assemblies. § 34. Discourse, distributed in reference to the spe- cific character of its immediate end, comprehends the four kinds of Explanatory, Confirmatory or Argument- ative, Pathetio, and Persuasive Discourse. 38 THE ART OF DISCOURSE. The principle of distribution here is the specific eflfect to be produced by discourse in the mind of the hearer. It is the same principle that determines the mode of discussion in any particular discourse, and will be more fully exhibited in the sequel. CHAPTER V. OF THE DEPARTMENTS " OF EHETOEIC. § 35. Rhetoric, as the Art of constructing Dis- course, embraces two processes which are in many re- spects distinct from each other. The one consists in the provision of the thought variously modified as it may be by feeling and the moral state in its proper foi'm, and is founded more immediately on Logic. The other consists chiefly in the provisipn of the appro- priate language, and rests mainly on Grammar as its foundation. The two great departments of the art of rhetoric, accordingly, are Invention and Style. In many of the most popular treatises on rhetoric in the English language, the first of these processes, invention, has been almost entirely excluded from view. Several causes may be assigned for this deviation from the uniform method of the ancient rhetoricians. The most important one would seem to be the neglect into which logic has fallen ; or, per- haps more exactly, the cause is to be found in the hitherto immature and unsettled views of modem writers in this sci- ence. Another cause is the change that has taken place in logi- cal science since the times of the Grecian and Roman rheto- ricians, which renders their systems of rhetorical invention, founded as they were, to a great extent, on their peculiar log- ical views, inapplicable to present modes of thought. Their system of topics is thus, for this and other reasons, wholly unsuited to our times. 40 THE ART OF DISCOURSE. The art of invention, moreover, is more essentially modi- fied than style by the particular department of oratory or the kind of discourse to which it is applied. Hence the ancient systems of invention which were constructed in strict reference to the modes of speaking then prevalent, are iU- adapted to present use. The systems of Cicero and Quin- tilian, for example, are for. the most part illustrated from the peculiar practice of the Eoman bar. Modem writers on rhetoric, in following the great ancient masters in the art, have hence been reduced to this alternative, — eithe^^of leaving out entirely this part of the science, or of construct- ing, an entirely new system. They have, for the most part, in the English language at least, decided on the former branch of the alternative, and have generally excluded al- most entirely from their works the consideration of inven- tion. The perversion and abuse of ancient systems in the schools of the middle ages have undoubtedly further con- tributed to bring this branch of rhetorical science into dis- repute and neglect. It cannot, however, be doubted, on a candid consideration of the matter, that invention must constitute the very life of an art of rhetoric. It respects the soul and substance of dis- course — the thought which is communicated. One of the most eminent of ancient rhetoricians, Quintilian, justly says, " Invenire primum fuit estque pk^cipuum." And one of the most eminent of modern orators, Webster, to the same effect remarks : " All true power in writing is in the idea, not in the style ; — an error into which the ars rhetor- ica, as it is usually taught, may easily lead stronger heads than mine." It is in invention that the mind of the learner is most easily interested and most capable of sensible improve- ment. It is next to impossible to awaken a hearty interest in mere style independent of the thought, as the futile at- tempts to teach the art of composition as a mere thing of verbal expression have proved. Composing when thus OF THE DEPARTMENTS OF RHETORIC. 41 taught must necessarily be regarded as a di-udgery and be shunned instinctively with strong aversion. It is otherwise when the thought is the main thing regarded. There is to every mind a pure and elevated pleasure in inventing. There is a pleasure in expressing thoughts that have sprung into being from one's own creative intellect ; of embodying them in appropriate forms of language. How different are the feelings with which a schoolboy contemplates the task of writing a composition which must contain so many words, whatever be true of the ideas, and the work of writing a letter to communicate some conviction of his own mind, some wish, some intelligence ! It cannot be questioned that it is to the exclusion of invention from our systems of rhet- oric that the neglect into which the art has fallen is chiefly to be ascribed. The prejudices against it are also mainly to be attributed to this defective and incorrect view of the art.* * It is worthy of note that the most popular system of rhetoric now in use in the English language, that of Dr. Whately, owes nearly all its ex- cellence and its reputation as an original work to the circumstance that it embraces, in the First Part, a brief and imperfect view of this branch of the art. riEST GENEEAL DIYISION. INVENTION. GENERAL VIEW. CHAPTER I. OF THE NATURE AND PAKTS OF INVENTION. § 36. Rhetorical Invention is the art of supplying the requisite thought in kind and form for discourse. § 37. It embraces Invention Proper or the mere supply of the thought, and Arrangement or Dispo- The propriety of regarding Arrangement as a part of the process of invention and not as a department of rhetoric, coordinate with Invention and Style, may be seen from several points of view. In the first place, the principle of division that has been adopted, by which rhetoric is regarded as embracing the two elements of invention or the supply of thought, and of styh or the expression of thought in language, at once compels to this treatment of arrangement. The two elements of thought and verbal expression are both essential elements, and are the only elements, of discourse. It would be unphil- osophical to introduce another principle of division, which would be necessary in order to admit disposition or arrange- ment as a distinct constituent part of the art of rhetoric. OF THE NATURE AND PARTS OF INVENTION. 43 Again, the process of invention cannot proceed but by order or method ; and the very supply of the thought must therefore include a more or less definite regard to the arrangement. It becomes necessary, thus, to treat of ar- rangement or disposition, so far as it can be distinctly treated of, as a subordinate and constituent part of invention. The same observations, obviously, are applicable to method in style. § 38. The process of invention is applied either to the general theme of the discourse, or to the particular thoughts by means of which that general theme is pre- sented to the mind addressed for the purpose of accom- plishing the object of the discourse. § 39. The general theme of discourse is sometimes given or furnished in a more or less definite form to the speaker or writer ; sometimes is wholly left to his free choice. In the eloquence of the bar and of the senate, the topics of discussion are determined beforehand for the most part to the speaker. Even here, however, there is much room for the exercise of invention. The particular theme proposed is to "be taken up into the mind of the speaker ; it is to be shaped to his habit of thought ; it is to be defined and deter- mined so as best to meet his particular purpose in discussing it ; it is to be suited to the particular circumstances in which he speaks and to the mode in which he shall determine to handle it. The same question will thus be stated in very different forms by different speakers ; and no small degree of oratorical skill is often displayed in the mode of conceiv- ing and presenting the particular subject of debate. The same observations are applicable to every species of dis- course or composition where the subject is proposed to the speaker or writer. \ Where the subject is left to the free choice of the speaker, 44 INVENTION. there is room for a still higher display of inventive power. It is with the orator or writer as with the sculptor or painter. The subject itself shows the genius of the artist. The subject is left thus free to a considerable extent in the eloquence of the pulpit, as well as in most occasional ad- dresses, in essays, and other compositions. § 40. The particular subordinate thoughts by which the general theme is developed and presented to the mind addressed, while they must all lie in the field of the general theme, and must likewise consist with the object of the discourse, are, with these limitations, open to the choice of the speaker. As a rational discourse necessarily implies a unity, this unity must be in the singleness of the theme and of the ob- ject of discourse. Accordingly all thoughts introduced must stand in a subordinate relation to this single theme, and, also, to this single object. ' Hence the principle, which admits of no exception in rational discourse, that no thoughts be in- troduced that do not both consist with the theme and the ob- ject, and also tend to develop the one and accomplish the other. While thus the subordinate and developing thoughts must all be found in the field of the one general theme, and of these only such can be taken as consist with the object of the discourse, within these limits there is free range for in- vention. The fullness and richness of these subordinate thoughts will display the richness of mental furniture pos- sessed by the speaker, the control he has over this stock of thought, and the fertUity generally of his faculties of inven- tion. J?he selection out of this stock will exhibit the sound- ness and promptness of his judgment and the power he has of steadily pursuing his object. CHAPTER n. OF THE GENERAL THEME OF A DISOOUESE. § 41. The process of invention as applied to the general theme of discourse consists in the selection of the theme and in the determination of the particular form in which it is to be discussed. In the very use of the expression " the theme " — a sin- gular and not a plural term — is indicated the necessity of singleness in the theme. It seems to horder on absurdity to speak of the themes of a discourse. Discourse can hardly with propriety be called one which has more than one gen- eral theme. The unity of a discourse, in which, indeed, lies its very life, requires that there be but one thought to which every other shall be subordinate and subservient — utterly forbids the introduction of two or more coordinate thoughts. In the singleness of the theme lies the first and broadest principle of unity. As will be exhibited in the proper place, the broader unity determined by the singleness of the theme wiU be narrowed by the particular object in the dis- cussion, and stUl further by the process by which the dis- cussion is conducted. § 42. The .principles which regulate this process regard either the mind of the speaker* himself, the * In order to avoid all unnecessary multiplication of words, but one of the specific terms, "writer" and "speaker," will ordinarily be used here- after, even when the generic notion of the person discoursing, whether through the pen or the voice, is meant. 46 INVENTION. occasion of speaking, the mind addressed, or the object of the discourse. § 43. In selecting his theme and determining the particular view to be taken of it, the writer has need to consult his own mind chiefly in reference to the capabilities of supplying the particular thoughts and illustrations by means of which his subject is to be pre- sented and developed. No one, in proper discourse, writes merely with a view to an effect on himself. Sometimes, indeed, the pen may be employed in investigation. Such compositions, however, are not proper discourse, which always more or less definitely or directly respects another mind. The writer, therefore, will need .ever to select a theme on which he is competent to write, respecting which he has ample information and means of illustration within his power. It is, nevertheless, a great mistake, although a common one, to suppose that a subject very familiar and at the same time very comprehensive, is most favorable to ease of ex- ecution. Invention is an originating, creative process in its essential nature. As such it is the most proper and dehght- fal work of a rational being, and whenever it is pursued, imparts a pleasure which itself fires anew the energy of the inventive faculty. This is the inspiration of original genius — the rapture that necessarily attends the production of new thoughts and forms of thought. Whenever a familiar, and, at the same time, a broad and comprehensive theme is selected, especially if the limits of the composition be nar- row, only general, familiar views can be taken, and there is no life of invention. It is a cold, inanimate work of the memory recalling dead thought. There is no inspiration, no satisfaction. There must be some new view taken, something original, or the work of invention must necessa- rily be laborious and heavy. Now it is specific views that furnish the occasion of original invention. In them the OF THE GENERAL THEME OF A DISCOURSE. 47 writer shuns the general commonpIaGe notions that are fanuliar to all. The more specific and definite, therefore, the theme, the easier will be the work of invention. Caution only is necessary that the field of view be not too limited for the writer's power of invention, since only the most vigorous and practiced writer can take the most minute and particular views. Young writers should be on their guard against what are called "fertile subjects." They are generally unfavorable to the exercise of invention, and, therefore, most difficult to handle, because they are so comprehensive that only general and commonplace views can be taken. It may be proper here to put young writers on their guard, also, in selecting themes, against specious mottoes or titles. The dress of language in which the theme is invested, is not the theme itself. The one may be rich and gorgeous, while the other is miserably lean and dry. It need hardly be said that the facility with which the work of invention will proceed, will depend on the richness of the thought itself which constitutes the theme, not on the garb it may chance to wear. § 44. A proper regard to the occasion of speaking will determine the process of invention not only in ref- erence to the character of the theme to be selected, but also, in reference to the latitude as well as partic- ular field of view that is taken, and the illustrations that are to be presented. § 45. There is obviously, likewise, a necessity of consulting the character of the audience, the extent of their information, their peculiar habits of thought, their feelings also, and their relations to tlie speaker. There is perhaps no point to which Cicero's fundamental rale in regard to all discourse, that it consist with propriety — " ut deceat " — has greater force of application than here. 48 INVENTI®N. It cannot be too earnestly inculcated on every speaker to consult carefully the minds and feelings of those whom he is to address, in the selection of his theme, and also in the development of it. Any offense against propriety or deco- rum here is more fatal to all the ends of speaking than any- where else. § 46. The character of the theme and the particu- lar view that is taken of it, as well as the general mode of developing it, will also be affected by the particular object which the writer may wish to accomplish in his discourse. It is assumed that all proper discourse has an object. A speaker does not speak without an end in view. This end or object lies in the mind addressed, and consists in some change to be effected there by the discourse. Dr. Whately, indeed, enumerates some species of what he calls " spurious oratory," as where one speaks merely to seem to say something, when there is in fact nothing to be said ; or to occupy time ; or for mere display of eloquence. The very name, however, " spurious oratory," indicates that all true discourse must have an object or end to be accom- plished by the communication of thought to another mind. We must seek, therefore, in the mind addressed the deter- mination of the particular possible objects of discourse. § 47. While the ultimate end of all discourse par- takes more or less of a moral or ethical character, the immediate objects through which this ultimate end is reached may lie in the understanding, the feelings, or the will of the persons addressed. § 48. The possible immediate objects of all proper discourse are but four in number, viz : Explanation, Confirmation, Excitation, and Persuasion. A change produced by discourse in the understanding may OF THE GENERAL THEME OF A DISCOURSE. 49 be either a new or modified conception, or a new or modi- fied judgment. Hence the two forms of address to the un- derstanding. § 49. The process by which a new conception is produced, is by Explanation; that by which a new judgment is produced is by Confirmation. A change in the sensibilities is effected by the process of Excita- tion ; and in the Will, by that of Persuasion. These processes, it will be observed, are named from the positive species ; and the designations given embrace as well them as their opposites. In explanation, thus, we either pro- duce a new conception, or correct or modify one already ex- isting. Confirmation includes both the production of a new opinion or judgment, and the removal or modification of one already existing. So, likewise, excitation embraces the awakening of a new feeling, and the strengthening or allay- ing of a previous emotion or passion ; and in persuasion, we either move to a new choice or dissuade from an existing in- tention or purpose. § 50. The unity of a discourse is more narrowly de- termined by the singleness of the object which is pursued in the development of a theme. In order to unity, there must indeed be a single theme or subject of discoiu'se. Singleness of theme will not, however, of itself secure the highest unity. It is further necessary that there be one leading object proposed to be effected, and that this object be steadily pursued throughout the discourse. § 51. The several processes of explanation, confirma- tion, excitation, and persuasion, are so related to each other that, while they may all concur in the same. dis- course, they yet can follow only in one single order. Explanation precedes confirmation, as the truth must be understood before it can be believed ; explanation 60 INVENTION. and confirmation naturally precede excitation, as the object of feeling must be perceived and generally be believed to exist before feeling can be awakened ; and persuasion properly follows the other three processes, as in order to a change of will, the feelings are gen- erally to be aroused, the judgment convinced, and the understanding informed. Unity requires that this order never be reversed, except for the purpose of awakening attention, or disposing for emo- tion, as will be more particularly remarked hereafter. §52. The work of invention can never proceed with ease or success unless unity is strictly observed — unless the single theme and the single object of the discourse be clearly apprehended, and that object be steadily and undeviatingly pursued. No principle of invention is more fundamental or practi- cally important than this. Unity in aim is the very life of invention. Unless the object of speaking be distinctly per- ceived and that object be strictly one, the inventive faculty has no foothold at all, or, at least, no sure standing ; and all its operations must be unsteady and feeble. The first work in producing discourse is to obtain a clear view of the single subject which is to be discussed, and then of the one object which is to be attained by the discussion. It is here, more than anywhere else, that young writers fail. They give themselves to writing with no definite ap- prehension of the single object for which they write, except perhaps, it be to fill a sheet with words — brilliant if it may be, at all events with words. Having no object in view, the mind has no spring or impulse in the labor, and the task is the most repulsive drudgery. What can be more so than to accumulate dead words — dead because entertaining no living thought that with its one life animates them, and to cement them together by the lifeless rules of grammar ? It is its OF THE GENERAL THEME OF A DISCOURSE. 51 object or aim which gives discourse its life ; and as no one thing can have two lives in itself, there can be but one aim or object iu one discourse. It is not in the nature of man to labor without an aim. Certainly the work of invention, the highest and most proper work of man as a rational be- ing, cannot proceed happily without an aim distinctly appre- hended. " The main requisite for teaching composition," says one of our most popular authors, "whatever people may think, is to have somethiiig which one feels interested to say." This then is the first thing to be done in the construction of discourse, after the selection of the theme at least, to de- termine definitely what is the particular object of the dis- course : — is the object to explain a theme ; to convince of its truth ; to excite the feelings in relation to it ; or to move to action upon it ? This principle cannot be too earnestly inculcated, or too faithfiilly observed. As these several acts of explanation, confirmation, excita- tion, and persuasion may proceed each by several distinct specific processes, it wiU of course facilitate invention to determine, previously to the construction of a discourse, the particular process which the case may require. § 53. Inasmuch as the development of the general theme is determined by the particular object of the dis- course, the four processes, by one or other of which this object must be acconiplished, namely : those of ex- planation, confirmation, excitation, and persuasion, con- stitute the distinct departments of Rhetorical Inven- tion. CHAPTER rn. OF THE PAKTS OF A DISCOtJKSE. § 54. The development of a theme of discourse for the purpose of explanation, confirmation, excitation, and persuasion, necessarily proceeds by stages, which, in reference to the particular object at the time, may be distinguished from each other. A discourse may thus be conveniently regarded as consisting of parts ; some of which are essential to all discourse and others subsidiary or essential only in particular cases. § 56. The essential parts of discourse are the prop- osition and the discussion. § 56. The Pkoposition is the particular theme as modified and determined by the object of the discourse. The term "proposition," it should be observed, is here used ia a sense different from that of the term "theme." The proposition is the theme as determined by the object or end of the discourse. For example, the theme, " the im- mutability of truth," may be variously discussed in reference to various specific objects. The design of the discussion may be to explain what is meant by the phrase ; or, it may be to prove the statement that " truth is immutable ; " or to awaken confidence in all truth as being in its nature immu- table ; or to move to zealous effort to acquire truth because immutable. A rhetorical proposition includes thus the theme and the particular design for which it is discussed. One formal mode of stating the proposition in actual dis- OF THE PARTS OF A DISCOURSE. 53 course would be as follows : " The object of this discourse is to prove the immutability of truth." A rhetorical proposition is carefully to be distinguished from a logical proposition. The latter may be defined to be " the verbal statement of a judgment." A logical proposi- tion, accordingly, may constitute the theme of a rhetorical proposition. If this theme be stated together with the use to be made of it in discourse, it will then become a rhetori- cal proposition. § 57. The Discussion is that part of a discourse in which the subject is unfolded and directly presented to the mind addressed for one of the purposes that have been named. The discussion is accordingly the maia thing in all dis- course, and constitutes its body. The proposition sets forth the design of the speaker ; and the other parts are merely preparatory and subsidiary to this main design which is directly pursued iu the discussion. § 58. The general forms of the discussion are de- termined by the object of the discourse, and are four in number, corresponding to the four main objects that may be aimed at in discourse, § 48. § 59. The more specific forms of the discussion are determined by the particular- processes in which expla- nation, confirmation, excitation, and persuasion are respectively carried on. § 60. The subsidiary parts of discourse are either preparatory or appliocUory ; and may in general terms be denominated the introduction and the perora- tion. § 61. The design and use of the introduction is to prepare the way in the mind addressed for the more 54 INVENTION. ready and free reception of the proposition and the discussion. § 62. As it is obvious that the mind addressed may be favorably or unfavorably disposed for the reception of the proposition and the discussion, either by reason of the degree or kind of information it possesses, or its state of opinion, of feeling, or of purpose, the introduc- tion must, in different cases, be prepared in reference to these diverse states of mind. The two more generic kinds of introduction will be, accordingly, the Eieplanatory and the Conciliatory introduction. In the former, the object of the introduction will be effected by informing more fully the minds of the hear- ers ; in the latter, by removing prejudice or by enlisting directly a favorable interest. It is obvious, moreover, that these states of mind may respectively regard different objects, as the speaker or the subject itself. Hence will be determined the still more spe- cific forms of the introduction. The consideration of the particular kinds of introduction and the laws of its use has, for obvious reasons, its appro- priate place under the several general heads of Invention. § 63. As the Introduction is only a subsidiary and a preparatory part of a discourse, the topics which it must embrace and the form in which it should appear cannot be fully known until the nature and form of the proposition and of the discussion are well ascer- tained by the speaker. Hence, the proper time for the invention and the composition of the Introduction is after the subject has been thoroughly studied out, and the general form of the discussion well settled in the mind. OF THE PARTS OF A DISCOURSE. 65 It would obviously be as absurd in a writer to construct au introduction before the plan of the discourse is deter- mined upon, as it would be in an architect to put up a por- tico before he had determined what kind of a house to attach to it. That this absurdity is frequently committed in writing and in architecture, only shows the necessity of call- ing particular attention to it. There is no one feattire of the introduction which may not receive its determinate charac- ter from the proposition and the discussion. The length, the matter, including both the thought and the feeling, and the style cannot be known tiU the plan of the discussion is fully determined upon. By. this it is not meant that the discussion should be writ- ten out or reduced to forms of language ; but merely that the whole plan of the discussion be distinctly conceived in the mind before the introduction is composed. The necessity of thus first studying out and accurately determining in the mind the plan of the discussion before the introduction is commenced, appears not only from the fact that xmless this be the case it is all a matter of mere accident whether there be any correspondence between it and the body of the discourse, but also from the consideration that it is only thus that unity, in which lies all the life of invention as well as of discourse, can be secured. The very idea of a discourse, as a product of a rational mind that ever has an aim in its proper workings, involves the necessity of unity ; and this unity appears in discourse mainly in the proposition and the discussion as the essential, parts. The clear perception of what is needed to be effected in the mind addressed by way of preparation, in order that this aim of the discourse can be attained in it, is absolutely indispensable both to guide invention in constructing the introduction and to stimulate it so that its work shall be easy and successful. § 64. The Peroration, as that part of a discourse in which the theme is applied, will vary with the differ- ent specific objects aimed at in the application. 56 INVENTION. Sometimes the application will be in the form of explanation, either for the pm'pose of correcting erro- neous views or for further instruction. This form of the peroration may be denominated the explanatory. Sometimes the object of the peroration may be to correct a wrong opinion, or to confirm a particular truth involved in the general theme, in which case the peroration will be confirmatory. Sometimes the object may be to address the subject more directly to the feelings, which will give rise to the excitatory or pathetic peroration. Or, once more, some action may be proposed, in the peroration, to the mind addressed, and then the per- suasive peroration will have place, § 6-5. The Recapitulation is a form of peroration common to the various objects mentioned. The re- spective processes of explanation, conviction, excitation, or of persuasion pursued in the discourse are, in this form, concisely repeated for the purpose of a more full and complete effect. PART I. — EXPLANATION. CHAPTER I. GENERAL INTBODUCTOBT VIEW. §66. In Explanation, the object of discourse is to' inform or instruct ; in other and more technical words, to lead to a new conception or notion, or to modify one already existing in the mind. § 67. The work of explanation is accomplished simply by bringing the object of the conception or notion intelligibly and favorably before the mind ad- dressed. § 68. Although explanation, properly, is a purely intellectual process, since it aims merely to produce or modify a conception or notion which is a pure intel- lectual state, still as the understanding itself is in- fluenced by the feelings and the state of the will, reference to these departments of mind is not wholly excluded from explanatory discourse. The passions are, however, to be employed only in strict subordina- tion to the design of the discourse ; that is, only for the purpose of facilitating the process of explanation. This is done chiefly or wholly by securing an undisturbed attention to the object presented. Hence the necessity that the taste be consulted in all ex- 58 EXPLANATION. planatoi-y discourse, in order that a fixed attention may be secured. The mind does not perceive well when it is not pleased. Xenophon has well observed that instruction ia any case is impossible from one who does not please.* The attention of the hearer may be disturbed, also, by the existence of some cherished opinion which lakj be unfavora- bly affected by the object presented in the discourse, and argumentation may be necessary as a preparatory work even for the purpose of explaining a truth. So, Ukewise, the attention may be disturbed by some feel- ing or purpose in the mind addressed, which must be appro- priately managed by the speaker who would secure attention to his explanation. These processes, however, are not essential, but merely incidental in explanatory discourse. It is sufficient, there- fore, here merely to indicate generally the relation of this to the other processes in discourse. § 69. The Theme of explanatory discourse is some object to be apprehended or conceived. As has been stated, the object of the discourse in expla- nation is to inform or instruct ; to communicate some new view, or to correct, to expand, or to modify in some way one ah'eady entertained. Explanation and confirmation both immediately address the intelligence, not the passions or the will, but they differ in this respect, that they respect different states of the intelligence, and aim to effect different kinds of cognitions. The distinction which is originally given in Logic or the science of the laws and forms of thought, is twofold — that of the technical concept and the technical judgment. A concept is a cognition of a mere object ; a judgment is a cognition of two related objects in which one of the objects is affirmed or denied of the other. A concept is expressed in language by a noun ; a judgment * Mem. Lib. L C. II., § 39. Mi^Sei/l iMfS^lliav eivat naiSeviriv irapi tov fli) dpeoxoKTOs. GENEKAL INTEODUCTORY VIEW. 59 by a sentence or proposition. All concepts are, indeed, de- rived from judgments, and founded upon them ; but they drop from view the affirmation or denial which distinguishes all judgments. They constitute a large part of the nouns or terms used in discourse. But perceptions and intuitions resemble concepts in this respect, that they exclude all affirmation and denial. It is convenient, therefore, for rhe- torical purposes, to distinguish all cognitions primarily as of the two classes, those expressing and those not expressing affirmation or denial. The first class are judgments ; the second class includes the original cognitions given in percep- tion and intuition, and the derivative cognitions given in proper conception. The objects of perception and intuition, when known, are said to be apprehended; the objects of con- ception are said to be comprehended or conceived. The term conception, it may be observed here, is used like perception, to denote the faculty itself, the exertion of the faculty, and the product of the factJty ; the derivative word concept being used to distinguish the product both from the faculty and also from the act of conceiving. It will be con- venient to use the term conception in its popular significa- tion, to include all cognitions of objects, whether perceptions or logical concepts, whether to be apprehended or to be conceived. This is a perfectly legitimate use ; for even per- ceptions of individual objects are introduced into discourse only as they are thought ; that is, only as they are viewed in relation, in other words, conceived. The term notion is synonymous with conception. Both terms may be used as convertible one with the other in denoting a cognition of a simple object, in distinction from the cognition termed a judgment. It should be remarked, moreover, that a logical propo- sition, in the proper sense, that is, a sentence which expresses a judgment, may be viewed simply as an object of concep- tion. This use of an expressed judgment is denoted by the grammatical term clause, which differs from a proper sentence 60 EXPLANATIOlir. in this, that it expresses a judgment as an object of thought. Thus, " Law is a rule of action " is a proper sentence, ex- pressing a judgment. But in the sentence " That Law is a rule of action is assumed by Blackstone in his Commentaries," the words in italic letters constitute a clause which is indi- cated by the clausal particle that. It is here used as a simple object. Judgments thus used as objects or terms are of two classes, facts which respect an event, something com- ing to be, and truths which respect what is or exists without reference to its happening or becoming. This distinction is, however, not nicely observed, facts and truths being often confounded. StiU farther, the theme in explanation is not necessarily any real object or truth. It may be a purely imaginary object not supposed by the writer to have any foundation in reality ; or it may be an erroneous conception in his miad of a real object or truth ; or, further, it may be a conception founded on reality but modified through the influences of his peculiar habits of observation. § 70. Explanation is governed by four general laws which are grounded in its very nature. These are (1.) The Law of Unity; (2.) The Law of Selection ; (3.) The Law of Method ; (4.) The Law of Completeness. 1. The necessity of unity is founded in the nature of all discourse as a rational procedure. See §§ 41, 52. 2. The law of selection is grounded in the necessity of excluding some of the infinite variety of subordinate thoughts or views through which the general theme may be developed.. The least-informed mind, if capable at all of discourse, must possess manifold particular views or thoughts which may in different degrees be serviceable in the development of the theme. Hence arises the nedessity of an intelligent and careftd selection of such particular thoughts as wiU best sub- serve the particular object of the explanation. GENERAL INTRODUCTORY VIEW. 61 3. The law of method, it is equally obvious, is imposed as a necessity in every rational procedure. The mind can exert its activity freely', fully, and successfully, only as it proceeds methodically, — that is, only as it proceeds in ac- cordance with the laws of its own nature. To these laws of our intellectual nature, all truth, so far as it can be thought, must necessarily correspond ; so that the mind, proceeding in accordance with the principles of its own nature, must be proceeding at the same time in accordance with the principles of truth. The eye can no more see distinctly and accurately if the rays of light be bent or discolored in the medium through which it passes, than the mind perceive or appre- hend truly and well if the necessary relations of thought are perverted or distorted. Not only must the mind in all ready and successfid inven- tion proceed methodically or in accordance with the fixed laws of thought, but in training, in acquiring skill in con- structing discourse, this necessary method must be intel- ligently apprehended, and, at the outset at least, must be . consciously applied. It becomes necessary, therefore, in an art of rhetoric, distinctly to indicate the method applicable to the different forms and particular processes of discussion and furnish the occasion and the inducement for a careful recognition and application of it. The study of, method in order to the formation and strengthening of habits of method- ical thinking is the indispensable condition of aU rational progress. A mind trained to habitual activity in method has reached its true maturity of training. Without this, it is essentially deficient in its culture. It is obvious th*t the method, while it must vary with the character of the theme in discourse, must vary also vrith the object or proposed end of the discourse. It is not sufficient, therefore, in rhetorical training merely to indicate the neces- sity of method and its general nature. It is necessary to view it iu its various modLfications as determined by the particular theme, but especially by the particular object of 62 EXPLANATION. the discourse, as well as also by the particular process which is adopted in the discussion. 4. The law of completeness is obviously imposed by the very nature of discourse as rational. It requires that all the particular views requisite for a full exhibiti(jn of the theme for the object proposed in the explanation, be presented. / § 71. In order that an object of* thought may be intelligibly presented to another mind, two things are requisite that should be carefully distinguished : first, it must be clearly presented ; secondly, it must be distinctly presented. Clearness and distinctness are the two essential qualities of perfect thought. They are widely distinguishable ; and the habitual discrimination of them is of the first importance to the writer. Clearness is that quality of thought which characterizes it when its object is viewed as entirely separated or distinguished from all other objects of thought. Distinct- ness, on the other hand, is that quality which characterizes thought when its object is viewed in all its own proper parts. As all proper thought views its objects in the relations of wholes and parts, clearness characterizes thought viewing its object as a part of a larger whole and separating it com- pletely from all other parts ; while distinctness character- izes thought viewing its object as a whole containing parts and recognizing those parts as together making up or con- stituting the whole. § 72. The process by v?hich clearness is secured to thought is Definition ; which may be defined to be the separation of the theme from all other objects of thought. Rhetorical definition may with no impropriety be con- sidered either as one of the several processes of explanation, or as a precedent condition and introduction to explanation. In the former case, explanation would be taken in a more GENERAL INTEODDCTOEY VIEW. 63 comprehensive, in the latter in a more limited import. It will better subserve our purpose to treat it as introducing to proper explanation. No explanation can proceed properly without it. It is indispensable that the writer first obtain a clear view of his theme ; that is, that he define it to his own mind by completely separating it in his thought from all other objects. > « The particular movement of the thought in defining will vary with the various character of the theme to be defined. The particular explanation of these 'various processes of definition, with exercises, is properly to be sought in the more rudimentary text-books ; and only the general view of its nature and necessity is presented here. The first thing to be done, then, in undertaking explana- tory discourse is to define the theme. This will often cost mental effort, perhaps severe and protracted effort. But aU effort thus expended will be abundantly repaid in the greater facility with which the labor that follows wUl be done, and especially in the greater perfection with which the whole work will be accomplished. Ehetorical definition is to be distinguished from etymolog- ical definition, as also from what is sometimes called logical definition. Etymological definition is the explication of the meaning of a word, which is effected through its etymologi- cal origin and history, as description is defined to be a writ- ing down ; or by a synonym, as remarh is defined through its synonym observation. Rhetorical definition is the defi- nition not of a word, but of an object of thought. Logical definition, as sometimes so caUed, is effected by naming the next higher species and the specific difference, as, man is log- ically defined to be animal that is rational — rational ani- mal ; or mammal that is bimanous — bimanous mammaL Logical definition is but one species of rhetorical definition. It is obvious that we can separate one object from all others in our thought only as we distinguish the particular kind of whole in which we view it. We must, in' order to 64 EXPLANATION. define man, for example, recognize it either as a word-whole consisting of so many letters ; or as denoting a substance consisting of head, trunk, limbs; or as having certain attri- butes, as heavy, upright, and the like ; or as a cause con- sisting of certain capabilities or powers, as locomotive, hearing, seeing, &c. To attempt defining without such recognition of the kind of whole in which the thei»e is viewed would lead into inextricable confusion and difficulty. It becomes necessary, therefore, to indicate the kinds of whole in which the theme may be viewed so far as our customary thought and language distinguish them. They are classified in re- spect to the manner in which they come into our minds as objects of thought. Generally, then, it may be observed that all objects of thought are given to us either by one of the two faculties of original cognition. Intuition and Perception, or by the faculty of Thought proper, otherwise called the Discursive, also the Eeflective faculty- Objects given us by the Intuitive faculty are mathematical wholes, and are either numerical or spacial. Objects given us by the faculty of Perception are integrate wholes. They are viewed either in the forms of time, that is, as causes, effects, events, as coming to be, as happening, in other words as objects having attributes of action, and are then called causal wholes ; or in the forms of space, as substances, as simply being, in other words as having attributes of quality, and are then called substance-wholes. But objects of either of these kinds of wholes may be increased numerically or spacially, — may be multiplied or may be massed, and thus form collective wholes and mass-wholes, denoted by words called in grammar collect- ive nouns or nouns of multitude, as forest, army, and mass- nouns, as water, light. Objects given us through the faculty of thought are called logical wholes. They are formed by combining either the subjects of propositions having the same predicate, or the predicates of propositions having the same subjects. The first class are called class-wholes ; the second class are called attribute-wholes. GENERAL INTRODUCTORY VIEW. 65 In defining a theme, as has been stated, we distinguish it from the other wholes of the class to which it belongs. Thus we define Mars as causal whole, as acting, or changing, for instance, by representing it as reflecting a dusky red light, distinguishing it thus from the fixed stars, and from other planets. "We define Mars as a substance by distinguishing it as fiery, by desigjjp.ting it as the fi^ry planet. We'define planet as a class-noun by naming a higher class, heavenly body, under which it belongs, and then indicating the attri- bute which distinguishes this class from other coordinate classes of heavenly bodies, as revolving ahovA the sun. We define animal as an attribute-whole, by naming a larger com- plement of attributes of which animal is a part, as organized, and then indicating the attribute — sentient — which distin- guishes animal from other organized, as from vegetable. It is true that language does not generally furnish diflfer- ent words for expressing these different kinds of whole which exist in thought. But if not in single words, it will gener- ally, if not always, appear in the extended development of thought in discourse, whether the writer has really had one or the other kind in his view, or has proceeded only in blind- ness and conftision. The ready discrimination of these kinds of whole in writing is best and easiest acquired by distinct study and by exemplification in specific practice. Just as in music, although it is possible that one may learn to sing or play with tolerable skill with no study of the gamut, no prac- tice on the scale, and no theoretical knowledge of the degrees of pitch and their relations, yet it is easier and better m learning the art to study and practice upon these distinctions separately; so, in writing, the readiest way to proficiency is by thorough study of the elements of thought to be ex- pressed in discourse separately. Until the mind is trained accordingly so as to mark the distinctions in the wholes of thought as it were instinctively, as the proficient musician instinctively and without conscious effort observes the mani- fold distinctions of pitch and time, the inquiry should be dis- 5 66 EXPLANATION. tinctly raised at the first undertaking to think out the theme : in what kind of whole is it to be viewed ? Is it a mere ver- bal whole or a whole of thought that is to be defined ? Is it an integrate whole or a logical whole ? Is it, if an inte- grate whole, a substance-whole or a causal whole ? Is it, if a logical whole, a subject-whole or a predicate-whole ? Exercises in Definition. AftSr defining the words in which they are expressed both etymohgieaUy and hy synonyms, define the following themes : — 1. As causal wholes. Gold ; the loadstone ; the sun ; elec- tricity ; oxygen ; the ear ; the beaver ; barometer ; metal- lurgist ; knowledge ; courtesy ; commerce. 2. As substance-wholes. The diamond ; gas ; ice ; a storm ; intellect ; hope ; economy ; law ; genius ; superstition ; lit- erature ; habit. 3. As class-wholes. The oak ; fhe ox ; the vulture ; the Caucasian ; the desires ; the virtues ; the arts ; republics ; sects. 4. As attrihute-wholes. Humanity ; intelligence ; patriot- ism ; fanaticism ; gratitude ; instinct ; credulity. Eemakk. In order to recognize an attribute-whole, it is necessary to refer to some subject to which it belongs. In defining an attribute of this class, consequently, the inquiry should first be after some subject to which it belongs, and then after the other attributes that belong to this subject. The object of the definition wiU be to discriminate it from these other attributes. 5. As wholes in each of the classes named. Reason; taste; egotism ; sagacity ; adroitness ; reverberation ; circumspect- ness ; thraUdom ; authority ; symmetry ; casuistry ; contro- versy ; fidelity. § 73. The chief and more characteristic work in ex- planation consists in presenting the theme distinctly ; that is, through the parts which make up the theme. GENERAL INTRODUCTOET VIEW. 67 The particular processes by which this is chiefly ef- fected are six in number, — Naeeation, Description, Division, Paetition, Exemplification, and Compar- ison AND Contrast. This enumeration of the processes of explanation is founded on the diflferent kinds of whole in which objects of thought may be viewed. The processes which properly belong to intuitive wholes are omitted, as they enter not as characteristic and governing, but only as subsidiary into formal discourse. It will not be amiss, however, to indicate them briefly here, referring to systems of constructive gram- mar for a more particular and practical description of them. A' leading class of intuitive wholes are called in grammar collective wholes, and are expressed in what are grammat- ically termed nouns of multitude. They are of two varie- ties, the distract, as pair, levy ; and the concrete, as army, forest. Explanation of such themes is obviously effected simply by enumeration, — naming the number, whether defi- nite or indefinite, and merely relative, which make up the given theme. A pair is explained as too ; an army is ex- plained as an indefinitely large number of soldiers. Another class of intuitive wholes are called mass-wholes. They are wholes of space. They are either abstract, as aare, bushel, or concrete, as Africa viewed as consisting of certain geographical districts, man viewed as consisting of spacial parts, as head, trunk, limbs. This process has been called Rhetorical Disposition. It consists in an orderly naming of the spacial parts that make up the theme. These two modes of Explanation, Enumeration and Dis- position, it is seen differ from the others, and in strictness, on mere logical grounds and for completeness, should be enu- merated with the others. They enter frequently into the construction of discourse, sometimes furnishing to it the general departments or leading heads, more frequently occur- ring incidentally in the other processes. But they seem for 68 ■ EXPLANATION. rhetorical uses to require no more formal treatment, except as they may be exhibited as rudimentary processes, the one of narration, the other of description. Of the six processes of explanation named as chief proc- esses, the first two — Narration and Description — regard the theme as an integrate whole, the former imder the forms of time, the latter under those of space. The other four regard the theme as a logical whole. The third and fourth — Division and Partition — respect the theme, the former as a subject-whole, or class ; the latter as a predicate-whole. An explanation by the one gives as parts lower classes, varieties, or individuals ; an explanation by the other gives the con- stituent attributes that make up the theme. These move in the relationship of whole to part, explaining the wLole by all tKe parts. Of the last two. Exemplification moves in the relationship of whole to part, but explains the theme as a whole by a single part. Comparison and Contrast, on the other hand, move in the relationship of part to part, and explain by exhibiting the theme as a part through a com- plementary part, either as similar or as different. § 74. While these processes may all be combined in certain cases in the same discourse, they are yet easily distinguishable. They may, in some cases, constitute each the single and only process of explanation. They are, also, subject to entirely different principles regula- ting the use of them in discourse. Hence the pro- priety and utility of considering them distinctly. As has been before observed, every art embraces diverse particular processes, aR of which, in the more complicated forms of the art, are carried on simultaneously together. In the acquisition of the art, however, these processes are an- alyzed, and studied and exemplified in practice separately and singly. An extended arithmetical process generally combines the various particular processes of addition, sub- GENERAL INTRODUCTORY VIEW. 69 traction, multiplication, and division, if not various other higher processes. In acquiring the art, however, the atten- tion of the learner is advantageously directed to these par- ticular processes singly and successively. Each is studied and exercised upon, before the next is taken up. When each several process is thus made familiar by separate and continued study and exercise, the more complicated opera- tions are performed with ease and success. It is so with every art. So self-evident, indeed, is this principle that nothing but the fact of the strange neglect and oversight of it in the art of constructing discourse could justify a repeated reference to it in vindication of the course that is here pro- posed. The learner cannot be too earnestly or too frequently reminded of the necessity of studying and exercising upon each particular process in discourse separately ; and of con- tinuing his study and practice upon each in order, until a perfect practical familiarity with it is acquired.' CHAPTEE II. OF NAEEATION. , § 75. Narkation is that process of explanation which exhibits the theme in its relations to time. There are three different views which may be taken of an object in its relations to time, according as the view fastens more directly on the period of time in which the object of thought appears, on the object itself, or on the cause that works in the object. Every event thus has, first, its period, its duration, and its stages or parts of time ; secondly, its subject which changes, making up the body of the event, so to speak ; and thirdly, the cause which works out the event. The view accordingly may rest more directly on the period of time as filled out by the transpiring event ; or on that wiiich is the subject of change in that period ; or, finally, on the cause which works out the changes during this period. If, for instance, we take as the theme England, we may narrate the theme by taking, first, the period of England and separating it into centuries or the periods covered by successive dynasties or individual reigns, mention the events that transpired in each of these successive portions of time. Such narratives are called armah or chronologies. Or, in the second place, we may take the subject of change, England, and exhibit that as it changes in the time of its existence. We have then proper History. Or, in the third place, we may take the succession of causes that have worked out the changes in English history and make them prominent. We have then what is called a Phihsophiccd History. Although all these OF NAKEATION. 71 forms of narrative agree in this that they alike view the theme under the relations of time, they yet differ specifically in important respects. It is necessary, therefore, that in writing a narrative it be clearly recognized in thought, at least, which" view is to predominate, the chronological, the proper historical, or the causal. All the laws of explanation will vary their application, according to the specific view of the theme as here indicated. The. relation between these species of narration is well illustrated both in the changes of individual experience in respect to the degree of interest felt in them respectively, and also in the progress of historical literature. The child notices chiefly and characteristically the events that fill up a period of time. He passes from subject to subject in dis- regard of all interior connection. His narratives are made up of the series of events that have occurred one after another, to the suppression both of the subject and of the cause. The more advanced mind delights in proper history ; it takes litde pleasure in mere chronologies ; it demands a subject of change and finds the chief interest in its changings, with comparatively slight interest in the causes that work the change. The more mature mind remains unsatisfied tUl it passes through the chronological succession of events to the one subject, the change in which forms the interior con- tent of those events and the bond of connection between them, and then to the cause that produces those changes. Corresponding to this changing experience in the indi- vidual mind, is the progress of narrative literature. The earlier histories confine themselves mainly to the simple representation of the successive events that fill up the period and the sphere of their narratives* More recent histories present the subject as passing through these changes ; while truly causal, that is, philosophical histories, are the production of the most recent times. This progress in historical liter- - ature is exemplified in the histories of Herodotus, of Hume, and of Guizot. 72 EXPLANATION. § 76. The Theme in narration is ever something viewed as becoming, happening, changing. It is either Simple, consisting of what is outward and sensible ; or Abstract, consisting of what is internal and spiritual. Examples of Simple Themes are : the siege of Jerusa- lem ; the Crusades ; the battle of Waterloo ; the settler ment of America ; the Athenian Repvhlic ; — of Abstract Themes : the working of pride ; the formation of habit ; theprogress of art. Themes in either class are variously modified according as they are viewed, ia more direct reference (1), to time, that is, chronologically ; or (2), to the subject of change, that is, historically; or (3), to the cause working in this subject, that is, philosophically. Narrative themes are distributed also, on a somewhat dif- ferent principle of division, into — 1. Those of physical natvire, narratives of which are styled Natural Histories, as of the globe, of plants, of animals. 2. Those of rational life. Themes of this class are sub- divided into (a), those of individuals, narratives of which are biographies, memoirs, etc., if they cover personal experi- ence generally, or travels, voyages, etc., if they embrace only particular kinds of personal experience ; and (5), those of communities, narratives of which are proper histories. They are either (1), religious, or (2), secular or profane. They are also either general, exhibiting the experience generally, or particular, exhibiting only specific phases of it, as political, intellectual, moral, artistic, commercial, etc. § 77. The Law of Unity in narration requires, first, that the one theme be presented throughout as a proper narrative theme, that is, in its relations to time ; and secondly, that it be presented in but one of the three possible views of a narrative theme, chronological, proper historical, or philosophical, as the predominant and governing view. OF NARKATION. 73 Nothing forbids the adoption of one of these views as governing in the distribution of the principal heads and of another in the subordinate development ; as a simple history or a philosophical histety may very properly adopt purely chronological divisions as its leading divisions. The life of invention in writisag narrative, and the interest in reading it will depend essentially on the firm grasp of the theme proposed by the writer, as the one theme to be devel- oped. Even in chronological and in philosophical narrative, there is a subject of change that must never be lost sight of. It must be a chronology or a philosophy of changes in that one subject. The importance of this principle is Ulustrated in the wearisome effect of those general histories which take us in successive chapters to different countries, without keeping before our minds any one subject or theme of narrative. A history of the world's progress, which should firmly grasp the one race of men and present the successive changes they have undergone in their common relations, keeping the unity of the theme ever in sight, would be as attractive and as fasci- nating as most universal histories, so called, that have as yet appeared, are repulsive and wearisome. Such a universal history is a desideratum in our literature. It will be observed that the comprehensiveness of the theme will not affect the unity. The theme may be the life or the transaction of an individual, the history of a com- munity or nation through the whole or particular stages of its existence ; it may be a cause producing its effects on a single individual, a community or state, or the race generally, through greater or less periods of time ; it may be an effect experienced over the world, as that of the Christianization of the earth or of a single continent, as the civilization of Europe or of an individual, as the moral greatness of Howard. Further, as the highest and ultimate aim in all 'human action is a moral one, and as all discourse has an ultimate end which is moral in its character, although in narration the commanding end is the information of the understand- 74 EXPLANATION. ing and thus purely intellectual, still it cannot be regarded as a violation of unity if incidentally the truths thus brought before the understanding be applied to a moral end. The historian, thus, by no means infringes on the law of unity, when he breaks from the strict course of his narration to apply the moral lessons which his narration teaches. This, however, in all proper narration, must never appear as the immediate and commanding, or even as a coordinate aim. If the inculcation of a moral lesson be made the controlling end, the discourse loses its proper character as narration. It then obeys other laws, and narration acts only a subordi- nate part. § 78. The Law of Selection requires that such chron- ological periods, such stages in the change of the object which constitutes the theme, and such causes that work out the change, be taken as will best secure the end of the narration. In chronological narrative, the selection is comparatively easy. The earliest exetcises in narrative composition should therefore be in this species of Narration. In purely historical narrative the selection is more diffi- cult, for we cannot represent the object which foi-ms the theme as actually changing. All that we can do is to assume successive points of time and mark the particular phases which the object presents at these points respectively, and leave it then to the mind of the reader to fill up the inter- vening period and imagine the actual progress of the change from one phase to another. The skill of the narrator will be shown in selecting "such changes, or more exactly, in select- ing such phases of the changing theme as will enable the reader to imagine how the whole change went on. In the history of a nation, thus, the changes that culminate in some great epoch of the nation's life, some great intestine or foreign war, some critical change in the administration, some new era of domestic industry, or the like, are changes that OF NARRATION. 75 the skillful historian will seize upon as those commanding phases in which its whole progress and growth may be seen. He will, of course, ever be careful to exhibit these not as isolated and independent, but as connected and in vital re- lation to each other. . In philosophical narrative a like difficulty in selection is to be encountered. Here the stages to be selected are the out- workings of the causal influence in producing the changes in the subject. In abstract and spiritual themes, a still higher tact and skill is requisite in the selection of those particular stages in the progress of the object represented which shall most hap- pily exhibit to the reader the actual progress, than is neces- sary in the narration of merely outward events. It is not with much difficulty that the naturalist seizes upon those stages of vegetable growth which shall give a clear idea of the entire continuous process. Although the tree is ever grow- ing and the eye cannot trace from moment to moment the actual change that is going on, still the representation of the seed, the germinating state, the woody stage, the condition of decay or of the periodical changes, the ascent of the sap, the periods of foliage, of flowering, of fruit and the like is easy, because the successive stages or conditions of growth are definitely marked to the eye. In abstract subjects, how- ever, these successive stages are with difficulty discovered ; and the mere representation of the successive development of a 'vice, a virtue, a mental habit of any kind, in respect to time alone, demands nice discernment and sound judgment. When the causal influence is conjoined with this, the diffi- culty becomes, still greater. For the causes that influence here _ are not only multiform, but are also not easy of de- tection. Their influence is silent and hidden. Hence, his- tories of the progress of civilization, of the progress of science, of opinion in every field of knowledge, appear only in the more mature developments of mind. Hence, too, moral painting, one variety of this species of narration, in- 76 EXPLANATION. dicates at once, when only free from obviows faults, the hand of a master. § 79. The Law of Method in narration requires that the order of time be ever observed. This is the one principle of arrangement in all narrafion. AU explanation proceeds by steps, — by exhibition of the theme in its parts, — part by part. The parts im narrative must be given in order of time. This general principle has a slightly varying application to the several species. In chron- ological narrative, the parts are periods of time, and the order is the order merely of successive time. The notion of time as continuous is dropped, as here there is neither an in- terior subject, nor a cause working in the subject prom- inently presented. In proper historical narrative, the subject of change itself is prominently represented ; the parts are the successive phases of the changing subject in the successive stages of time ; and here, so far as is practicable, through the ex- hibition of the successive stages, the principle of time as con- tinuous, as connected in its periodical successions, must be observed. As has been remarked, skill and tact are requi- site here in order that the narrative may rise scbove a dry chronological detail to a proper history. It becomes neces- sary to apprehend the subject of the change and 'carry it along through all the successive phases of the changes, never dropping that from view. In philosophical narrative the causal influence working in the subject of the change is the proper theme. The parts are the outworkings of the cause as-seen in the changes of the subject. The cause, however, ever reveals itself to us only as working in successive and continuous time. As be- fore, the subject changing, so now the cause working the change m the subject must be kept steadily and constantly in view. Here not chronological periods nor successive stages of the changing theme, but these stages as best re- OF NARRATION. 77 veaJing the cause, or as best appearing to be eflfects of a cause, not as mere events, constitute the grand landmarks of the narration. § 80. The Law of Completeness requires that in chronological narrative all the events that mark the period chosen, — in proper historical narrative all the changes in the subject, and in philosophical narrative the entire cause in all its. workings, so far as the design of the narrative proposes, — be presented. EXERCISES IN NARRATION. 1. Narrate chronahgieaUy hy suitable distribwtion of periods the subjoined themes : (It should be remarked here that the exercise should be carefiiUy criticized by the application of each of. the laws of narration separately.) Aristotle ; Gali- leo ; Kaphael ; Louis Philippe ; Hortense ; Benjamin Frank- lin : the human race ; the Jews ; the French ; the growth of a vine ; the glacier ; the crust of the earth ; the growth of intelligence. 2. Narrate MstoricaHy the following themes : Zenobia ; Dante ; Columbus ; Richter ; Shelly ; Robert Bruce ; Led- yard ; Percival ; Sparta ; Alexandria j Gibraltar ; Moham- medanism ; the Papacy ; Hungary ; Poland j the slave-trade ; paper money ; English literature. 3. Narrate phihsophicaUy the following themes : The rise of chivalry ; the progress of free institutions ; the growth of art ; the culture of the taste ; the early spread of idolatry ; the extinction of the aboriginal tribes of America ; the decay of classical learning. CHAPTER m. OF DESCRIPTION. § 81. Description is that process of explanation which exhibits the theme in the relations of space ; that is, as a substance having attributes. As in narration, so here may be distinguished three species. In the first, bordering on what we have under § 73 called Rhetorical Disposition, the spacial side of the theme 'is more prominent in the view. The theme is here represented through its spacial parts. The theme, Greed Britain, thus, is so far described as its parts, England, Wales, and Scotland, are presented in their proper relations to each other in respect of direction, extent, etc. In the second form of description, the aggregate of attri- butes, which rightly disposed in their relations to one another represent to us the substance, constitute the more prominent aspect of the theme. In the third form, the substance itself as the imknown groimd of the union of these attributes, is placed foremost in the representation, just as the cause is the real theme in the third form of narration. But as proper history is the leading form of narration, so the second form indicated is the leading form of description. The first form is serviceable to the second or proper descrip- tion, as chronology is . to history ; and the third form pre- supposes the other, as philosophical history presupposes chronology and proper history. When philosophical specu- lation "applies itself to trace out the relation of "substance to OF DESCEIPTIOlvT. 79 attribute, as it has set itself to trace out the relation of cause to event, descriptions of the third form will naturally appear. § 82. The Theme in description is ever an object viewed as simply being or existing, not as in narration, as becoming, or changing. It is either simple, consisting of what is outward and sensible; or absteact, consisting of what is in- ternal and spiritual. Examples of simple themes are Thebes, Mars, Alex of internal and spiritual objects. § 89. The Law of Unity in Division requires' that the theme be a single class, and that all the parts in each set be given by one principle- of division. By principle of division is meant the attribute or comple- ment of attributes in respect of which the division is made. This wiU, perhaps, be better understood by recurring to the logical genesis of all generic forms of thought — the logical account of the origiQ of all classes in thought. Every such form of thought, every class, then, arises by combining the subjects of diflferent judgments having the same predicate. Thus the class of objects denoted by the term man is formed from judgments having primitively individuals as subjects with a common predicate, -^ John is rational animal, James is rational animal, Peter is rational animal, and then com- bining these several subjects, and marking the combination by applying a single name, man. Man is now a class includ- ing all objects having the attribute of rational animal. To OF DIVISION. 86 explain man as such a class would be simply to name the individuals which, as subjects of the several primitive judg- ments, — John, James, Peter, — were combined to form the class. These subjects which are thus combined into a class, it should be remarked, are not limited to individuals ; they may be varieties, or species, that is, previous combinations into classes of individual subjects ; but, whether individ- uals or classes they are combined only as they have the same predieate, that is, the same attribute or complement of attributes. The principle of division, now, is this com- mon attribute or complement of attributes. Inasmuch as the same class, of objects may have a great diversity of at- tributes alike belonging to each of the class, the necessity arises, in order to that distinctness which, is the one ob- ject of explanation, of fixing upon one or another of these several attributes, and naming the parts — the species, the varieties, or the individuals — given by that one. Other- wise the result would be only confusion. Thus man has the attribute of color belonging to the class as a part of the attri- bute animal; also, the attribute inielMgent as a part of the attribute rational. The confused division of the class at the same time into species with reference to color and species with reference to inteUigenee, giving as the result hlach men, igno- rant men, white men, tawny men, would be no proper explsu- nation. The attribute color should be the principle of divis- ion for one explanation ; the attribute iaiteUigenceior axsaihQT: Nothing forbids a second division under another principle or attribute subordinate to the first. But in the same single division there should be but one principle. This principle of division is ever to- be found in some attribute that was the common predicate in the judgments from which the class was formed by combining the subjects. The principle of division, then, must be single ^ and it is ever to be found in some attribute of the theme. After ap- prehending the theme as a generic whole or class composed of different subjects of such judgments as have a; common 86 EXPLANATION. predicate, the next thing is to apprehend the particular com- posite attribute which is to furnish the single principle of division. We have thus the next law, that of Selection in division, as formally stated in. the following section. § 90. The Law of Selection in Division requires that such attribute of the theme be selected as the prin- ciple of division, and that such subdivisions shall be given as shall best subsesve the particular design of the discourse. For difierent objects iu writing, it is obvious, diiferent sets of parts will need to be exhibited. For one purpose, the theme man would be explained through the different species or varieties given by the attribute rational, such as logical, eesihetic, or practical; as thinkers, artists, benefactors ; as learned, rude ; as civilized, iariarous ; for another purpose through species given by the attribute animal, which is an- other part of the composite attribute rational animal belong- ing to the class man, such as sanguine, liliou's, lymphatic, black, white, tawny, and the like ; for another purpose through species given by an attribute of condition, as young, old, Afri- can, Asiatic, European, American, Australian, and the like ; or still again through species given by an attribute of rela- tion, as citizens, aliens, slaves, freemen, and the like. As the purposes of discourse vary indefinitely, so the principle of division will vary. Aptness to seize the principle of division and to effect the division correctly and fully under it, perhaps more than any other specific capability, marks the degree of ability in the construction of discourse. And this aptness, it may be again remarked, is the result of intel- ligent practice, precisely as the musician's aptness in using the elements of melody, harmony, modulation, force, is the fruit of careful traiuing. It may be so perfect as to seem instinctive — genius ; it is nevertheless, as is all skill every- where, the product of intelligent, discriminating practice. OF DIVISION. 87 When it is necessary to carry the explanation to a further degree than the first division, the principle selected for the successive subdivisions may be the. same as in the higher division, or it may be different. In the subdivisions, also, the principle of division will vary vrith the more specific de- sign in that part of the discourse. It is, however, always the design of the discourse, not any thing in the nature of thought, that governs the selection. § 91. The Law of Method in Division requires that the subdivisions, or the lower grades of parts, be pre- sented under the higher species to which they respect- ively belong. The order of subordination in the different gradations given by division appears in the enumeration under § 88, the highest being kingdom, the next svib-kingdom, then class, sub-class, etc. The strictest logical method of proceeding in division, and that which should be practiced carefully and thoroughly, is what is called in logic dichotomous, or in two parts, the one of which is complementary of the other. These parts are contradictory to each other and exhaust the theme. Thus a dichotomous division of man, under the attribute rational, is into rational and irrational; intelligent, and non-intelligent or ignorant. Each of these first two parts is then taken as a whole to be divided, and is separated into two parts, the one of which is complementary of the other ; and so on suc- cessively, as far as the subdivisions are carried. It is fre- quently the case that language does not furnish suitable expressions for denoting the higher species. In such cases such species are often omitted in the enumeration. Some- times, too, the purposes of the discourse require only the distinct mention of certain of the parts given in a complete division. Thus we often find divisions with three parts in- stead of two. Angles, for instance, are completely divided into right, acute, and obtuse. But a strictly logical dichoto- 88 EXPLANATION. mous division fully expressed would have given as the first division right and not-right, this last species being subdivided into acute and obtuse, these varieties being complementary of each other and making up the whole species not-right.. A good exemplification of a strict dichotomous division with omission in the final result of the distinct mention of parts, really given in the process but afterward subdivided, and therefore not needing to be enumerated, may be taken from Aristotle's divisions of the grounds of human action con- tained in Book II. chapter x. of his Rhetoric. All things, he says, are done by men either not of themselves or of them- selves. Of things not done by men of themselves, some they do from necessity, others they do of chance. Of those done from necessity, a part are from external force ; the others are from force of natural constitution. So that all that men do not of themselves are either of chance, or from natwre, or from force. On the other hand, what they do of themselves are partly through habit, partly through impulse ; and tkese last, partly through rational impulse or wiU, and partly through irrational impulse, which is either anger or appetite. So that all things whatsoever men do, they of necessity do on seven grounds, — chance, force,, natural constitution, habit, reason, anger, appetite. The law of method in all single division, is that of subordination. If, however, in the same discourse for any purpose divisions be needful into two or more sets of parts,, that is, on two or more principles of division^ then the law of method in reference to the arrangement of these divers sets of parts, is that of coordination, which requires that the various sets of parts be kept by themselves. If it happen, as it has been remarked it often does happen, that language furnishes no convenient designations for the higher parts, then the lower parts must be grouped together, and not in- termingled with those of other sets. Thus, it would be in violation of this law of coordination to present the parts of angles as acute, right, and obtuse ; or of man as intelUgent, sanguine, bilious, msthetic, etc. OF DIVISION. 89 § 92. The Law of Completeness in Division requires that all the parts which make up the class under the assumed principle of division be presented ; and that such successive subdivisions be given as. the purpose or occasion of the discourse may prescribe. There would be no full entire explaBation obviously, if any coordinate part were omitted in the division. This part of the law of completeness in division is definite and per- emptory in all discourse,, for the thought would not be com- plete otherwise. But as to the other part of the law which respects the number of successive subdivisions, it is evident that as there is. no limit ip. thought to the number of such sub- divisions, only the occasion of the discourse can furnish a limit. . EXERCISES IN DIVISION. 1. Divide the theme, man, as a species, on the principle of division given by the attrihute of quality, color ; cdso, hy the attrihute of action, pursuit or occupation ; also, hy that of condition, country ; also, hy that of relation, rule or dom- ination. 2. Divide the animal kingdom in respect of the attrihute of qwAity, structure ; aho, in respect of the attrihute of condi- tion, place of life. 3. Divide plants in respect of attributes of quality and of condition. 4. Divide winds in respect of condition of time. 5. Divide governments in respect of attribute q/" freedom. 6. Divide sciences in respect of aitributes of relation : (1.) their matter ; (2.) their utility. 7. Divide mental phenomena in respect of relation of primitive or consequent. 8. Divide duties in respect of relation of object ; also, in reject of priority of obligation. 9. Divide the following themes in respect of some attrihute 90 EXPLANATION. of qyboRty, action, condition, and relation : Languages ; arts-; poetry ; history ; virtues ; instincts ; races of men. 10. Divide the carnivorous family ; the ruminants ; the thrushes ; the mollusks ; insects ; flowering shrubs ; the lilies ; the rocks ; the metals ; physical forces ; colors ; the alkalies ; resins ; cognitions ; feelings ; human societies ; forms of re- ligion ; civilizations ; governments ; laws ; customs ; tenures of property ; fine arts ; objects of thought ; attributes ; oc- cupations ; mechanic arts ; divisions of time ; educational institutions ; wars ; international alliances ; human relation- ships ; social conditions ; diversities of genius ; systems of unbelief; monotheistic systems ; phases of religious charac- ter ; influences on the formation of character. CHAPTER V. OF PARTITION. § 93. Pabtition is that process of explanation which exhibits the theme through its component attributes. Language flimishes only to a limited extent peculiar forms of expression to distinguish a logical subject-form of thought from a predicate-form. Man is a proper subject-word — a class-noun ; but we habitually use the word to denote a com- plement of attributes, as synonymous with humanity. In- deed, Logic instructs us in interpreting such a simple propo- sition as man is mortal, that we may equally interpret man as a term in comprehensive quantity or as a term in exten- sive quantity — that is, equally as a term denoting a certain union of attributes, or as one denoting a certain union of in- dividual objects. Thus we may interpret it : man is as to one of his attributes mortal ; or man is one species of the class mortal. Humanity is a proper attribute-word.' It is, however, allowably used to denote the combination of subjects to which the attribute it expresses belongs. In Division, as we have seen, the theme, however expressed, is ever to be viewed as a subject-word denoting a class — is ever to be taken, logically speaking, in its extensive quantity ; and the parts through which the theme is explained are similar parts, that can be designated by such terms as species, varieties, in- dividuals. In Partition, on the other hand, the theme is ever to be viewed as an attribute-word — is to be viewed, in other words, in its comprehensive or intensive quantity. It is ever a composite attribute, a complement of attributes ; and the parts are in the broader partition other composite attributes 92 EXPLANATION. or complements of attributes, and in the narrowest and ulti- mate partition simple attributes that cannot in our thought be further analyzed. In explaining man, thus, by partition, we must take the word as an attribute-word — as synony- mous with humanity in its broader sense, as denoting all that properly belongs to man. We must further regard it as a composite attribute, containing in it other component attri- butes ; and the process of partition consists in a proper ex- hibition of these component attributes. Man,^ iox example, is composed of the attributes rational and animal. We have so far explained man when we have presented these component attributes. But we may go further and explain rational in the same way. Rational is composed of intelli- gence, sensibility, will. Each of these, still further, may be viewed as a composite attribute and be resolved by another partition. Such is a general view of the nature of this process. It is essentially different from analysis by division. They are as much unlike as 'the arithmetical processes of Eeductioa of Fractions and Involution ; and the tMnker and writer who should undertake to explain a theme in ignorance of the dis^ tinction would fall into as great confusion and trouble as an arithmetician who should confound a fraction with a root of a number. § 94. The Theme in Partition is ever an attribute containing in it other, component attributes. It is either an external and sensible SLttribnte, or an internal and spiritual attribute^ § 95. The Law of Unity in Partition requires that the theme be a single complement of attributes ; and that the parts that are attained in the partition be all attributes of one subject. Of the first part of this law of partition requiring single- ness in the thems as one complement of attributes, no further OF PARTITION. 93 illustration is necessary. The second part of the law is the logical principle of congruence applied to discourse. Its necessity and validity are grounded in the nature of the theme, as ever a product of the faculty of thought consisting in the union of attributes found to belong to the same in- dividual object. In more precise and technical phrase, the object of thought which forms the theme in partition is the combination of the predicates of several judgments having the same subject. In the analysis of the theme, accordingly, as a complement of attributes that have been found in several judgments to belong to the same subject, we violate the very nature of the theme if we bring in attributes that ,do not belong to it. There would be little danger of this, however, were it not that language uses the same term or the same form of expression for denoting very diverse kinds of attributes. It becomes necessary, therefore, to con- fine the enumeration of parts within that particular view which is taken of the theme. If man, thus, is taken as a theme to be explained by partition as a complement of attri- butes belonging to the subject in physiological views, we must not mix up in one partition physiological attributes with those of another kind, as social, political, etc. Unity requires us ever to keep within that particular circle of attributes of which the theme is taken at the time to be composed. It does not lie within the scope of a general rhetoric to unfold its principles to each one severally of all the possible objects of discourse. It cannot, therefore, legitimately un- dertake to specify the different kinds of attributes of which a theme may be regarded as composed, so as to lay down the special application of the law of imity to every such view of the theme. It can only accept from Logic the enumeration of the different kinds of attributes and enjoin a careful dis- crimination of these leading kinds, that unity may not be vio- lated by confounding them. These have already been stated to be four in number : Qualities, Actions, Conditions, and Relations ; the first two being called Essential Attributes or 94 EXPLANATION. Properties ; the two last being Relative Attributes. Of the Essential Attributes or Properties, Qualities belong to an ob- ject so far as it is viewed as a substance ; and Actions, so far as it is viewed as a cause. Of the Relative Attributes, those of Condition belong to the object so far as it is viewed iu its relations to space and time, and derivatively so far as it is modified in space or time, as sleep, health, which are relative attributes of condition ; while the attributes of Relation proper belong to an object so far as it is viewed in connection with other objects. The Law of Unity, in its stricter application, forbids the intermingling of these attributes confasedly together. In order to correctness, facility, and freedom of invention, the mind must move on in clear discrimination of these several classes of attributes, and shun mingling the attributes of an ob- ject so far as a substance with its attributes so far as a cause ; as also mingling attributes of condition with attributes of relation. Skill and dexterity in. constructing discourse, as also perfection in the discourse itself when constructed, de- pend on the observance of the principle of unity as thus applied in partition. Much time and practice devoted to the partition of themes in respect of their general classes of attributes will be most abundantly remunerated iu the in- creased facility with which the progressive development of an object of thought will proceed after such training. Abun- dant practice here is as needful as in a ground-rule of arith- metic. For not only does partition furnish the great leading heads of discourse, but, as before observed, all along in every part of the discussion this process is to be applied, precisely as the arithmetical rule of involution not only is the govern- ing rule in some simpler arithmetical problems, but in more complicated problems is to be incidentally applied here and there in different stages of the solution. It may be observed in reiteration, that the two rhetorical processes of Division and Partition bear to each other a relation analogous in im- portance to that between the two arithmetical processes of OF PARTITION. 95 evolution and involution. Not to be practically familiar with the differences between them is as fatal to correct and facile thought in invention as to confound evolution and in- volution in computation. So the different modifications of partition in reference to the four different kinds of attributes, — it is as important for the writer to be practically familiar with them as for the mathematical analyst to be practically familiar with the different modes of evolving numbers of different powers. § 96. The Law of Selection in Partition requires that such a class of attributes belonging to the theme and such narrower partitions be given as the particular object of the discourse shall prescribe. As elsewhere, the Law of Selection here looks directly to the object and occasion of the discourse. It is necessary to inquire of that, both what shall be the selection, and how far it shall proceed in the partition of successive grades of attri- butes. The limit here is not in the objective possibilities of thought, but only in the subjective capacities of the indi- vidual mind or the allowances of the occasion. The law ap- plies as well to the process when employed in the progressive development of the theme in the discussion as to the primary laying out of the subject in the larger divisions. The par- ticular object at that stage of the discussion in which the partition is to be employed, must determine the selection. So, likewise, in the determination of which and how many of the four generic kinds of attributes mentioned are to be employed, whether in the first laying out of the theme or in the subsequent developraeni; of some part of it, we must look to the especial object of the discourse, or of the dis- cussion at that particular stage, for the guiding principle. § 97. The Law of Method in Partition requires that the attributes in each several set be presented by them- selves, and that the simpler attributes be placed in con- nection with those of which they are the immediate parts. 96 EXPLANATION. In respect to the arrangement of the attributes that are obtained by the partition, whether, for instance, the attributes of Quality, or those of Relation, should be placed first, the guiding principle must be found in the accidental character- istics of the discourse, — as those of the theme, the occasion, che hearers, the object of the discourse, — not in the essential nature of thought. The law of thought reqiures that the attributes of each several class be presented in connection with one another ; it forbids, for instance, that attributes of quality should be intermingled with those of action, or those of either of these classes with those of condition or relation. This is the law of coordination ; and the other part of the law, requiring that when the partition is carried beyond the constituent attributes of the first degree, the involved at- tributes thus obtained be arranged under the more compre- hensive attributes of which they are parts, is the law of involution, corresponding to that of subordination in division. § 98. The Law of Completeness in Partition requires that all the attributes that make up the theme in the particular view taken of it, be presented ; and that the more minute partitions be given to the extent that the purposes or occasion of the discourse shall prescribe. As in division, so here, it is to be remarked that while thought itself imposes the necessity of completeness in the enumeration of all the parts making up the theme, it admits an indefinite extension of the process in analyzing into mi- nuter parts. The limit here must be found consequently in the occasions or objects of the discourse. EXEECISES m PAKTlTIOSr. 1. Analyze hf partition the theme humanity as an attribute of quality — in other words, so far as comprehending attributes ■ of quality ; also, as comprehending attributes of action ; also, as comprehending attributes of condition ; and moreover, of relation. OF PARTITION. 97 2. Analyze intelligence, cts a comprehensive attribute of quality ; also, as one of action. 3. Analyze barbarism, as attribute of quality, and also as one of relation. 4. Analyze patriotism into component attributes of quality and of action. 5. Analyze politeness into attributes' of quality and of action. 6. Analyze gratitude into attributes of quality and relation. 7. Ancdyze mercy into attributes of action and relation. 8. Analyze decision as attribute of action and relation. 9. Analyze the following themes into two or more classes of attributes: Contrition; contempt; mirth; manliness; beauty; loyalty ; malignity ; comity ; genius ; docUity ; credulity ; foresight ; raciness ; forgiveness ; wisdom ; justice ; confi- dence. CHAPTER VI. OF EXEMPLIFICATION. § 99. Exemplification is that process of explana- ation which " exhibits the theme through one of its specific parts. This process differs from Division in this, that instead of presenting all the specific parts that make up the theme, it presents only one. The logical validity of the process is seen at once in the very nature of a class or a generic form of thought, as shown in the previous chapter on Division. This form of thought, as there shown, arises by combining more or less subjects of different judgments having the same predicate, or what amounts to the same thing, by combining more or less individual objects haviag a common attribute. Every individual in the class, or, to speak generally, the whole class consequently have this common attribute, — the whole geheric form of the thought must have this common predicate. By taking, therefore, any individual of the class and indicating the attribute in that which has constituted the common base in forming the class, we explain the class. Exemplification, accordingly, is founded on the same rela- tionship in thought as Diyision — the relationship of a logi- cal whole to its parts. But the movement of thought is in the opposite direction, as we look here at the whole from the part ; there, at the parts from the whole. Exemplification is one of the most interesting and effect- ive processes of Explanation, and at the same time one of the most famUiar and common. Instruction in Natural OF KXEMPLIFICATION. 99 History and Experimental science is chiefly given through this process. The naturalist in explaining any class of ob- jects in Nature as substances, exhibits one of the class as a specimen. The botanist explains a whole genus, a species, a variety of plants by showing the one property in an individual plant which is the common property of the class. The whole dass is known when that generic property which was the base of the classification, which as such characterizes the class, — when that common attribute is known. In hke manner, in experimental science, the nature of an object as a cause, in other words, the working of a force or power, is explained by exhibiting a single instance of its working in an experiment. The chemist explains thus the nature of heat as a cause or force expanding material bodies, by exhib- iting the working — the influence of heat on the length or the diameter of an iron rod. The experiment here does in reference to the object as cause, what the specimen does in natural history in reference to the object as substance. The exhibition of a quality in one of a class of substances, ex- plains the whole class of substances combined on the basis of that quality; and the exhibition of an action, a. force acting, in an object viewed as cause, explains the whole class of objects as causes combined on the basis of that acting force. The range and extent of this process are commen- surate with the classifications possible to human thought. Whatever can be viewed as generic, as a class, can be ex- plained through it. It is the earliest process of instruction. Nature, Providence, man, all teach through example, and begin their teachings with it after the first knowledge both rude and crude, both unscientific and incomplete, which mere perception and intuition impart. § 100. The Theme in Exemplification is ever a generic form of thought, — a class, as in Division. It is either simple, that is outward and sensible, or abstract, that is internal and spiritual. 100 EXPLANATION. The first thing, accordingly, to be done in exemplification, is to seize firmly in thought the theme as a generic object or class, and then to view it as that which is to be explained by the common attribute of the class as found in an indi- vidual specimen or experiment. It is obvious that the process is equally applicable to spiritual and abstract objects as to material and sensible ; to objects classed in respect to attributes of condition and of re- lation as to those classed in respect to attributes of quahty and action. In exemplification, thus, a general principle of conduct is explained by the exhibition of a particular act in which it was manifested. The principle of patriotism is exemplified in the self-devotion of a Spartan hero; of justice, in the stern decision of a Brutus ; of Christian heroism, in the martyr at the stake. General truths, also, are exemplified by some particular truth which they comprehend. That virtue is its own re- ward is exemplified, thus, in the elevated peace and happiness which follow a particular deed of self-denying benevolence. General facts, likewise, are exemplified in some particular instance. The circulation of the sap. in vegetation is ex- plained by an exhibition of it in a single plant. § 101. The Law of Unity in Exemplification re- quires singleness in the theme as a class, and also singleness in the individual part which is taken as the example. This law, like all the others applied to this and the other processes of explanation, must of course be interpreted as applied to a single process. Nothing forbids repeating the process in the same discourse. We may accordingly, in per- fect consistency with rhetorical unity, in the same discourse introduce divers examples in explanation of the same theme. But the law forbids, alike, using the example, except inci- dentally and subserviently, to explain any other theme than OF EXEMPLIFICATION. 101 the one proposed for the discourse ; and also forbids min- gling together two or more examples to explain the theme. If, for illustration, the theme fortitude were to be explained by exemplification in the case of Regulus, and the exhibition of the attribute in the story of Eegulus were to run off into the presentation of manners and customs prevalent in Rome or Carthage, however well exemplified in the story, the first part of the law of unity, which requires singleness in the theme, would be violated. And the second part, requiring singleness in the example, would be violated, if other in- stances of fortitude, although partaking of common characteris- tics, were adduced besides that of Regulus. If other such examples are to be given, they should be treated as distinct exemplifications, or confusion and distraction must result. It is to be observed that not uncommonly the theme, as a class, is to be explained only in respect to a part of the com- posite attribute that characterizes the class, — one or more of the component attributes that make up this common class- character. In this case, the principle of unity requires that the example be exhibited only as having that one of these com- ponent attributes. It would be in violation of unity, thus, in explaining gold in respect of the general property of specific gravity, to present the specimens for the purpose of showing its ductility or other property. § 102. The law of Selection in Exemplification re- quires that that one of the class constituting the theme be taken as the example, which shall best exhibit in the circumstances of the discourse the common attribute of the class. In the application of this law, reference being ever had in it to the object of the discourse, the mind addressed must needs be consulted. What will engage the attention and ex- cite the interest of an immature mind and be within its ca- pacity to comprehend, might be of no interest to a mind in- formed and disciplined. The occasion, also, the various cir- 102 EXPLANATION. cumstances of condition, will need to be consulted ia the se- lection of the particular example ; as weU as, also, the writer's own intellectual command of his theme, and the individual objects through which it may be exemplified. § 103. The Law of Method in Exemplification ap- plies to the arrangement either when more than one example is introduced, where the method in Division is to be observed, or when more than a single attribute is to be exhibited, where the method in Partition is to be observed. In all processes of explanation applied to logical wholes, — the artificial wholes of thought, — the two logical laws of coor- dination and subordination in subject-wholes, that is in exten- sive quantity, constitute the principles of method ; while in attribute-wholes, that is in comprehensive quantity, the anal- ogous laws of coordination and involution give the principles of method. Inasmuch as we may exemplify a class through one or more individuals of the class and also in respect to one or more of the attributes of the class, we can at once recognize the grounds of the twofold character of the law of method. If more than one example be presented, the laws of coordination and subordination apply ; if the exem- plification be extended beyond a single attribute, the laws of coordination and involution' have application. ^ § 104. The Law of Completeness in Exemplifica- tion requires that all the examples and all the compo- nent attributes be presented which are necessary to ex- hibit the entire composite attribute characterizing the theme as a class. No illustration either of this law or of that of method seems to be necessary. The distinct and formal mention of them is given that they may be ever kept before the mind in per- forming the exercise. The general remark may be repeated here that in training to the construction of discourse, all the OF EXEMPLIFICATION. 103 exercises should be carefully criticized in reference to each of the general laws of explanation. BXEECISBS IN EXEMPLIFICATION. 1. Exemplify the theme plant, in respect of its attribute of growth, hy the example of a vine. 2. Escemplify the theme intelligence, in respect of its attri- bute of growth, by the same example. 3. Exemplify gravitation by the revolution of a, ■planet. 4. Exemplify instinct by the bee. 5. Exemplify patriotism by the story of Eegulus. 6. Exemplify filial affection i«^ Ruth. 7. Exemplify philanthropy in Howard. 8. Exemplify luxury in Rome. 9. Exemplify by instances to be selected, the following themes : Fickleness of fortune ; danger of parleying with temptation ; growth of corruption in republics ; timidity of guilt ; respect for law in free republics ; force of example ; female heroism ; insecurity of arbitrary power ; power of habit ; the rewards of honesty. CHAPTER Vn. OF COMPARISON AHD CONTEAST. § 105. CoMPAEisoN AND CoNTKAST is that process of explanation which exhibits the theme in the light of its resemblances or differences in reference to another object of the same class. The precise relationship in which this process stands to the other processes of explanation, it will not be difficult, after the expositions that have been given of those others, to de- termine. The first two of those processes, narration and description, respect objects as they are given us by the fac- ulties of original cognition — perception and intuition. The other four respect cognitions that are the pure product of thought, being formed by the combination of the subjects of several judgments having a common predicate, or of the pred- icates of judgments having a common subject; in other words, by the combination into classes of objects having a common attribute, or into a composite attribute, of attributes belonging to a common object. Notions so formed by com- bination, may be explained by exhibiting the individual ob- jects which, being combined, formed the class, or the simple attributes which by their union formed the composite attri- bute. In the one case, we have the process called Division ; in the other case, that called Partition. But it is obvious that the class may be explained by the indication of the com- mon attribute of the class as it is found in some individual of the class familiarly known. This process is Exempli- fication. Still further, it is obvious that the individuals OF COMPARISON AND CONTRAST. 105 which compose the class must have some attribute or attri- butes in common ; in respect of which they so far resemble one another. The indication of this common attribute in one of the class is so far an explanation of any other of the class, the attribute in one being the same as in the other. This process is rhetorical Comparison. But as no two ob- jects are alike in all respects, any two in a class must have diiFerences as well as resemblances ; and the indication of these differences is a kind of negative explanation. This process is rhetorical Contrast. Besides these processes, it is clear that there can be no others, unless, indeed, there be modifications of one or an- other of these, or a notion given us by some other faculty than those named, — the perceptive, the intuitive, and the dis- cursive. Some psychologists, indeed, seem to have reckon- ed among the faculties of the intelligence, also, the faculty of imagination. But the objects that come into our minds through the agency of this faculty, are simply the wholes of form, the three constituent elements of which are the idea, embodied in the form, the matter in which it is embodied, and the embodiment itself as the act of the imagination. The nature of this process, so far as it demands consideration in an art of rhetoric, will be discussed, elsewhere. But so far as a product of this faculty is a theme for explanation, it seems unnecessary to make it the ground of admitting a dis- tinct process, for any important rhetorical purpose. Besides, the present immature condition of psychological science in reference to this faculty forbids any proper treatment in the art' of rhetoric which presupposes psychological science as settled, and grounds itself upon it. It must suffice simply to indicate this other kind of whole in thought which the proc- esses enumerated do not directly respect. § 106. In Comparison the theme is explained by the exhibition in another individual belonging to the class of the attribute or attributes common to the class, the 106 EXPLANATION. attention being turned on the resemblances between the two. In Contrast, the theme is explained by the exhibition in another individual belonging to the class of the attri- bute or attributes which do not belong in common to them, the attention being turned on the differences be- tween the two. In other words, the process is by Comparison when the resemblances are given in the explanation ; by Contrast, when the differences are presented. The chief magistracy of a republic may thus be explained in comparison by an exhibition of the functions, relations, and influences of the kingly office in unlimited monarchy, so. far as they are common to -both. It represents the nation ; is the center of unity to them ; is first among them ; leads them ; administers law for them, and the like. It may be explained in contrast by the points of opposition. The king in a pure monarchy is the end, and the state the means ; the president in a republic is the means, the state the end. The one absorbs the state in himself ; the other is absorbed in it. The one uses all the energies of the state for his own pleas- ure ; the other uses his for the state. Thus, also, truth and error may be compared as states of mind, occasioned and determined by similar causes, etc. They may be contrasted in their opposite natures and iuflu- ences. § 107. In Comparison and Contrast, the resemblance in the one case and the opposition in the other may lie in the constituent natures, the properties of the ob- jects compared or contrasted, or in the relations which they sustain. In the former case the process is de- nominated DIEBCT COMPAEISON AND CONTRAST ; in tho latter case, it is denominated analogical comparison AND CONTRAST, or generally, analogy. OF COMPAEISON AND CONTRAST. 107 Virtue and vice are compared or contrasted directly when represented as moral states resembling or differing from each other in respect of their essential character or properties. As virtue, thus, implies intelligence and free choice, so also does vice. But as virtue consists in a regard paid to the prin- ciples of rectitude, vice consists in' a disregard of them. They are analogically compared or contrasted when ex- hibited in their relations to some third thing. Virtue is re- lated to happiness as its appropriate and natural consequence ; vice to misery. § 108. The Theme in Comparison and Contrast is ever a part of a class, — a species, a variety, or an in- dividual. This character of the theme suggests at once the necessity of apprehending the theme in this light in order to recognize the attribute or attributes belonging to the class through which the theme is to be explained. The first thing to be done in undertaking explanation by this process, is to get a clear notion of the class to which the two objects of thought compared and contrasted alike belong. The common attri- butes that belong to the class veiU be the resemblances or points of comparison ; the others will be the differences or particulars of contrast. § 109. The Law of Unity in Comparison and Con- trast requires, besides singleness in the theme, single- ness also in the other part of the class through which it is explained. This law is not to be understood as requiring strictly indi- viduals in the theme and in the object through which it is ex- plained. They must be single parts — single species, single varieties, or individuals. The logical principle in which the law is grounded, is that any part of a generic whole may be represented by any complementary part. The planet Ura- nm, thus, may be explained through any other one or through 108 EXPLANATION. all the others of the class planets, as shining by reflected light, revolving round the Sun, etc. But unity would be de- stroyed by varying either the theme or the object or group of objects with which the theme is compared or contrasted. § 110. The Law of Selection in Comparison and Contrast requires that such object or objects in the class to which the theme belongs, and such attributes of resemblance or difference be selected as will best ac- complish the end of the discourse. This law, as in the case of the other processes, looking to the end or object of the discourse, or the regulative principle in the selection, embraces the consideration of the writer's capacity, the capacity of the mind addressed, and the occa- sion of the discourse. In applying the law, it may be suggested here, those ob- jects in the same class as the theme which are most unhke it should generally be selected in comparison ; while in con- trast, those most like it are to be preferred. The reason is, that when there are relatively but few points of resemblance in comparison, or of difference in contrast, the attention is more easily fastened upon them and is less distracted and embarrassed than if the great multitude of attributes were crowded at the same time upon it. § 111. The Law of Method in Comparison and Contrast requires that the more specific processes by exhibition of resemblances in Comparison, and of differ- ences in Contrast, and also of attributes of property in Direct, and of those of relation in Analogical Compar- ison and Contrast, be distinctly presented. This law does not forbid presenting together both the di- rect resemblances and indirect, in regard to the same attri- bute, or even the resemblances and differences as to any one attribute, instead of invariably presenting aU the direct re- semblances in respect of all the points of comparison, and OF COMPARISON AND CONTRAST. 109 then all the direct differences. But where direct and analog- ical resemblances and differences are exhibited together, they should be presented in such a way that there shall be no liability to confusion or mistake. § 112. The - Law of Completeness in Comparison and Contrast requires that so many resemblances and differences, direct and analogical, be presented, as shall be necessary fully to explain the theme. EXERCISES nf COMPARISON AND CONTRAST. 1. Compare in respect of properties or attributes of quality and action, electricity and magnetism. 2. Oompare in respect of essential attributes, the British Parliament and the Congress of the United States. 3. Compare music and painting. 4. Compare reason and instinct. 5. ■ Compare hope and fear. 6. Oompare a state and a family. 7. Compare wisdom and learning. 8. Compare science and art. 9. Oompare logic and ethics. 10. Contrast each of the above pairs of objects. 11. Compare and contrast plant-life and animal life ; air and water ; heat and light ; desire and will ; imagination and taste ; architecture and sculpture ; Judaism and Christianity ; Homer and Dante ; Chaucer and Gower ; Spenser and Mil- ton ; Pope and Cowper ; Schiller and Goethe ; talent and genius. CHAPTER Vm. OF THE INTRODUCTION AND PBEOEATION IN EXPLANATORY DISCOURSE. § 113. The Explanatory Introduction, § 62, will often be useful in this species of discourse for the pur- pose of bringing the theme more directly before the mind, or for facilitating the ready apprehension of the discussion itself. In a history of Greece it may be necessary, in order to exhibit more distinctly to the reader of what people the his- tory is fo treat, to describe the country itself geographically which the people inhabit. Such a geographical description may also help the reader to understand the narrative itself. The introduction might also properly explain the mode of constructing the history. In a description of the virtue of " discretion," an explana- tory introduction may usefully indicate the relation of this to other virtues, or exhibit an occasion of its exercise for the purpose of a more explicit statement of the theme. It may appropriately, also, so far exhibit the light in which the theme is to be contemplated, or explain the particular mode of practicing the virtue, as that the whole description shall be more fully and correctly understood. § 114. The Introduction Conciliatory will re- spect the occasion of the discourse, the theme itself, the mode of discussing it, or the speaker personally ; as it is evident that from these various sources either a favor- OF THE INTRODUCTION AND PERORATION, ETC. Ill able or an unfavorable disposition may arise in the minds of the hearers. It is less often the case in explanatory than in any other species of discourse that this kind of introduction is necessary. Still it win be well ever to inquire whether from any of the sources enumerated there can arise any feeling or opinion unfavorable to the full understanding of the discussion, or any interest to be awakened from any one of them that shall^ secure a more earnest attention. § 115. The Pekoration in explanatory discourse may be in any of the particular forms enumerated in §64. The peroration explanatory will apply the representa- tion either to some particular theme contained in the more general one that has been discussed, or to some kindred subject. The peroration confirmatory 'will be in the form of an inference readily deduced from the view that has been given. The peroration excitatory will apply the general theme or some view taken of it to the excitement of the ap- propriate feelings. T%e peroration persuasive will address the theme or some view taken of it to the will as an inducement to some act. § 116. . If various forms of the peroration be employed, the principle laid down in § 51 requires that the re- spective forms employed succeed each other in the order in which they are stated in the preceding section. PART II. — CONFIRMATION. CHAPTER I. GENERAL INTKODUCTOKT TIEW. § 117. In Confibmation, the object of discourse is to convince ; in other words, to lead. to a new belief' or judgment, or to modify one already existing in the mind. Here lies the essential difference between explanation and conflrmation. While both processes address the understand- ing, the former seeks to produce a new or different notion or conception, the latter, a new or different belief or judgment. § 118. As ajudgment is ever expressed in a logical proposition, the theme in Confirmation must ever be such as will admit of being expressed in the form of a logical proposition, the truth of which is to be estab- lished in the mind of the hearer. In this respect confirmatory discourse differs from all other kinds, as in those the theme is always a notion or con- ception. It may be observed here that while the theme in confirma- tion must always admit of being expressed in the form of a logical proposition, having subject, predicate, and copula, and so far as stated must imply this, it is not necessary always that it be actually expressed in discourse in the strict techni- cal form of such a proposition. Thus the theme of a dis- course, the object of which is to prove that " the soul is im- GENERAL INTRODUCTOKY VIEW. 113 mortal," may be stated in the form of " the immortality of the soul." § 119. Confirmation in rhetorical invention agrees with the process of Investigation in the particulars that both processes properly respect a judgment, and that both are controlled by the same logical principles. It differs from Investigation in the respect that the judg- ment is already known in Confirmation both in its matter and in its truth, while in Investigation either the truth or both the matter and the truth of the judgment are unknown. In undertaking the work of confirmation or convincing, the speaker must of course know the matter of the judgment which he is to establish. He must be regarded, also, as be- lieving it himself and of course as knowing the evidence on which it rests. He professes this in undertaking to convince. He must know, thus, both the matter of the proposition and its truth. In investigation, on the other hand, it may be wholly un- known whether there is such a truth as the process of inves- tigation may lead to as its proper result. Known truths may be taken, and by the application to them of various principles of reasoning entirely new truths may be ascertained and proved in the very process of investigation. The mathemat- ical analyst, thus, applies to an assumed formula certain proc- esses by which its members are changed in their form, and comes thus to new truths — to truths, perhaps, of which he had never dreamed until they stood out proved before his eye. More commonly, however, in investigation the truth is at least guessed at, or conceived as possible. The matter of the judgment is before the mind, and the process of investigation consists in the discovery of the proof on which the truth of it rests. Confirmation employs the results of this discovery for the 8 114 CONFIRMATION. conviction of another mind. This latter species of investiga- tion, therefore, which respects the proof on which an assumed or conjectural truth rests, coincides to a certain degree with invention in confirmation. For it is the proper office of in- vention here to furnish the proof for a given asserted judg- ment. It differs from this process of investigation only in the circumstance that it directs aU its operations with a view to an effect on another mind. Investigation might rest satis- fied with any adequate proof ; iavention seeks the best. In- vention explores the whole field of proof and then selects ; investigation is content to take what is at hand, provided it be sufficient to establish the truth proposed. Investigation implies a candid mind, ready to be convinced by the proof discovered; invention in rhetoric regards a mind possibly prejudiced against the truth, and struggling against every fresh charge of proof. § 120. The mind addressed in Confirmation may be regarded as in either one of three different states ; either without any belief in regard to the proposition to be confirmed, or in weak faith, or in positive disbelief. The processes in Confirmation, although in the main alike, will yet vary in some slight respects in the differ- ent cases. The speaker wiU need ever to have a distinct regard to this diversity of mental state in his hearers, and always to know whether he is to produce an entirely new conviction or to strengthen or remove one already existing. Different kinds of arguments often, or a different arrangement of them even when the same in kind, will be requisite in the different cases. § 121. Belief admits of degrees ; and may vary from a faint probability to absolute certainty. The de- gree of belief in regard to a given proposition will be affected both by the character of the evidence on which GENERAL INTEODUCTORT YIEW. 115. it is perceived to rest and by the state of the mind in which it is entertained, both as it respects its feelings, and its opinions on other related subjects. The distribution of proofs in regard to their respective power in commanding belief wiU be exhibited in Chap. IV. § 122. As in Explanation, so still more in Confirma- tion it is requisite that the speaker regard the taste, the opinions, and the feelings of his hearers ; not merely in the exordium and the peroration, but also in the gen- eral conduct of the discourse. CHAPTER n. OP THE THEME IN CONirEMATION. § 123. As the Theme in this species of discourse is ever a judgment, it will always admit of being ex- pressed in a logical proposition (^§ 118). The ancient rhetoricians carefully distinguished between the general subject or theme of the discourse, the particu- lar question discussed arising out of the theme, and the point on which the question turned. Quintilian, thus, in his work De Institntione Oratoria, Book Third, distinguishes the thesis or causa from the queestio and both from the status causae. Common language recognizes a like distinction. "We speak of the subject of discussion, the question raised^ and the point at issv£. The subject of a given discussion, we might thus say, was " The right of suffrage." The question raised was, " Ought suffrage to be universal ? " The point at issue, on which the question was made to turn, was, " OugM property to be made a test in the extension of this privilege ? " These terms are not, however, used with great precision. Notwithstanding this looseness, it may be correct to say that the subject indicates nothing in regard to the object of the discourse, whether it be to explain, confirm, excite, or per- suade ; the question, whUe it indicates the object of the dis- course, does not determine necessarily the one point on which the decision shall turn ; ihe point at issue determines all these. . Confirmation, so far as -it 4s concerned in the exhibition of proof, looks directly at the point at issue. And this may al- OF THE THEME IN CONFIRMATION. 117 ways be expressed in a logical proposition with its subject, copula, and predicate ; as, " Property ought, or ought not to he, made a test in the extension of the right of suffrage." § 124. While the proposition to be proved should always be formally stated at the outset in the mind of the speaker himself, it will depend on several different principles, whether and how it should be stated to the hearer. If no reason appear to the contrary, both facility of apprehension and the increase of interest felt in know- ing exactly what is under discussion require that the proposition be stated to the hearers at the outset. When, however, the proposition is complex, embrac- ing several parts, both clearness and interest may be promoted by the successive statement of the several parts. If there be a repugnance to any discussion of the subject on the part of the hearers, the statement of the general subject may, in some cases, be postponed till an interest is awakened by such considerations as may bear on the proposition but are general in their nature. If there be a prejudice against the truth to be estab- lished, likewise, it is sometimes better to postpone the direct formal statement of the proposition, and merely indicate at first the subject, or propose the question for investigation. CHAPTER in. OP PROOF. • § 125. Confirmation effects its object — conviction — by the exhibition of those conceptions or judgments on which the proposition to be confirmed depends ; — in other words, bt the exhibition of peoof. Proof consists, sometimes, of mere conceptions. All that is necessary in such a case is to exhibit those conceptions distinctly to view, and the work of conviction is completed, so far as the mere proof is concerned. When I am to prove that " the setting fire to an outhouse in a given case is arson," I have only to resolve the term arson into its constituent conceptions, and exhibit them in order. If arson be defined to be " the malicious setting fire to any thing combustible whereby human hfe is endangered," then, if in the case sup- posed, the setting fire be admitted to be malicious, and a dwelling was consumed in consequence, the proof is made out on exhibiting the essential constituents of arson. So in proving faith to be a virtue, I have only to analyze faith and exhibit its component parts as a. moral exercise put forth in accordance with an intellectual assent to truth. The terms of the proposition faith and virtue being understood, the mind instantly passes into a belief of the proposition. This process, according to the universally admitted use of lan- ' guage, is rightly denominated proof ; although this term m^y have been by some writers and in some cases restricted in its application to that species of reasoning in which the conclusion depends on judgments. The importance of this OF PEOOF. 119 distinction in regard to the means of proof will be seen in the classification of arguments. It follows from the view of confirmation presented in this section that invention in this part of discourse will consist mainly in finding proof. It should be remarked that while the distinctive work of confirmation consists in exhibiting proof, the mere exhibi- tion of proof is not to be regarded as aU that enters into this process, as will be seen more specifically in a following section. In confirmatory discourse, accordingly, proof constitutes the body of discussion (§ 57). § 126. Proof is either dieect or indirect. It is direct, when it is applied immediately to the establish- ment of the proposition. It is indirect, when it is applied to the overthrow of objections. In the latter case it is called Refuta- tion. § 127. A complex proposition, embracing several constituent propositions, may be proved by the sepa- rate and successive proof of each constituent part. Although sometimes a complex proposition may best be proved without such analysis and separate proof of the parts, as, for instance, when the proofs are appUcable alike to every part, stiU generally it will prevent confusion and conduce to clearness and force in the reasoning to analyze the proposition and establish each part separately. In order to secure this advantage the proposition should be carefully studied at the outset, to see whether it be complex or not, and if complex, whether the proof can be best applied to the whole or to each part separately. A proposition may be sometimes best analyzed through the subject, sometimes through the predicate, sometimes through both. Further, the analysis may be either by division or by 120 CONFIRMATION. partition. The proposition, Free institutions are favorable to literature, may be analyzed for proof, thus, through the subject jfree institutions ; as, (1.) Free political institutions are favorable to literature ; (2.) Free rehgious institutions are favorable to literature ; (3.) Free educational institutions are favorable to literature ; '(4.) Free social institutions are favorable to literature : or, through the predicate, — Free in- stitutions are favorable (1.) to oratory; (2.) to poetry; (3.) to scientific discussion ; (4) to history ; (5.) to criticism. § 128. The work of proving a particular simple proposition or a complex proposition regarded as simple, so far as invention is concerned, consists in the selection and arrangement of the proofs on which assent to the proposition depends. This part of rhetorical invention was denominated by the ancients " The Topical Art," or « The Topics." This department of the art of rhetoric was regarded by the ancient rhetoricians and orators as one of the most im- portant in the whole province of rhetoric. Aristotle and Cicero wrote separate treatises upon it. It entered largely into every regular treatise on the art, and into every sys- tem of instruction. That it has fallen so much into disuse is to be explained from the causes that have led to the neglect of the department of invention generally. It forms a necessary, constituent part of this branch'of rhetoric. A distiact view of the Topics will accordingly be presented in the following chapter. CHAPTER IV. OF THE TOPICS. § 129. It is the object of the Topical art to facilitate and guide rhetorical invention in confirmation by a distribution of the different kinds of proofs into gen- eral classes. The name originally signifies Tpkuies, tottoi ; the Latin of which was hci. The whole field of proofs was divided off into several parts, to which the invention was directed as the seats or places of arguments. They were hence called some- times sedes argumentorum. The topics proper constituted a species of the loci communes, which included not only argu- ments but truths used for illustration, embeUishment, or other purposes in discourse, and are generally by the ancient writ- ers thus distinguished from the topics proper. The specific practical utdity of a system of topics consists chiefly in the following particulars, namely : 1. It facilitates the search for proof generally ; inasmuch as it exhibits in systematic arrangement the few general classes into which all possible proofs may be reduced. The search is thus rendered direct, definite, and intelligent. 2. By the distribution of proofs into classes according to the intrinsic nature of the proofs, the topics show at once the comparative weight and value of the different arguments that bear upon the same question. The selection is thus made easy; certain kinds of sophistry, and those of the most dangerous kind, are at once detected ; and the number of arguments necessary in a given case is evinced. As wdl 122 CONFIKMATION. appear more clearly hereafter, some propositions ean be proved ooly by a certain class of arguments. The argu- ments of one class, moreover, are intrinsically more weighty than those of another. Some compel belief irresistibly, others only establish a degree of probability greater or less. It "Is one of the most common and at the same time most successful arts of sophistry to put off the less for the more weighty, the merely probable for the absolutely demonstra- tive proof. , , 3. The topics furnish at once the main principles of arrangement. 4. By directing the attention of the learner to definite parts of the whole field of arguments successively, they furnish the means of a more thorough and familiar acquaint- ance with their respective nature and use. § 130. The first general division of proofs is into those which are given in the very terms of the propo- sition to be proved, and those which are to be sought out of it. The former class may be denominated analytic, the latter synthetic proofs. AH propositions, susceptible of proof, contain the proof within themselves, or depend on some truth or conception out of themselves. The former class are denominated by logicians analytic, the latter synthetic propositions. The proposition aU trees are organic is analytic, since from the very analysis of the terms trees and organic, the conceptions are given on which the truth of the proposition rests. So likewise, the proposition dueling is murder is analytic, as an analysis of the terms furnishes the proof. On the other hand, the proposition dueling is a relic of barbarism is synthetic, since here no analysis of terms would furnish the proof of the truth affirmed. Something is added to the subject in the predicate and the ground OF THE TOPICS. 123 for this aflSrmed addition must be sought out of the proposi- tion. Analytic proofs correspond very nearly, but not exactly, to tbose denominated by Aristotle and Cicero intrinsic. They include, thus, the species of arguments enumerated by them_/row8 definition ; from the relation of species and genus ; from partition or enumeration of parts. They do not embrace, however, all those which are derived from things hearing some affinity to the matter of the proposition. In- deed, they take in but a part of one variety of this species, namely, that from conjugates or words derived from the same root.* . § 131. Analytic proofs, being derived from the very- terms of the proposition, need not, for any practical purpose of invention be further subdivided ; the search being at once definitely directed and the weight and relation of all arguments of this class being indicated in the very nature of analytic proofs as such. The terms of the proposition may be analyzed by par- tition or by division, and the character of the proof will vary in a certain respect with the nature of the proposition. But it is obviously of no importance how the analysis is made or what is the form of the proof thus obtained so far as it respects any purpose of invention. .§ 132. Analytic proofs carry with them the highest validity and force in all confirmation. There can clearly be no higher or stronger proof than that which is contained in the very statement of the propo- sition. In this case, the proposition is only to be placed before the mind and assent is necessary. There may be need of proof of other kinds to show that the terms of the proposition actually contain the conceptions or truths on which the truth of the proposition depends. But these con- * See Cic. Top. 2-4. 124 CONFIRMATION. ceptions being admitted to be there, the exhibition of them compels assent. In proving that the malicious setting fire to an outhouse whereby a dwelling is accidentally consumed is arson, it may be necessary to prove, by testimony or otherwise, that arson necessarily includes the idea of malice, the overt att of setting fire, the endangering of human life. But if these are admitted to be constituent ideas of the com- plex notion arson, the proof is conclusive. § 133. The principle of this most generic division of proofs into analytic and synthetic indicates the first step to be taken in the invention of arguments. It is, study carefully the terms of the proposition itself. This is a fundamental ■ and aU-important rule in all con- firmation. Many questions, not to say most that are con- troverted, are resolved at once by the explication of the meaning of the terms employed to express them. They are controverted only because the parties see them in different aspects. But even where the question is viewed in the same light, the explication of the meaning of the terms is often the effectual method of deciding the controversy. And where not, where synthetic proofs are requisite, the mind is, by the thorough examination of the question in all possible lights, furnished with the best helps and guides to invention. § 134. Synthetic proofs, being derive'd from v^ithout the proposition, are either such as g,re given by the mind itself acting under the necessary laws of its being, or such as are derived from without the mind. The former species may be denominated intuitive ; the latter, embikical proofs. In demonstrating the truth of a mathematical proposition we can trace out the steps from the premise to the con- clusion without aid from external proof The diagrams OF THE TOPICS. 125 and numerical figures or alphabetical symbols which we often or generally make use of in mathematical reasoning, merely facilitate our mental operations. A Newton or a Pascal could reason out the theorem independently of such aids. In other words, the mind in this case intuitively per- ceives the connection between the subject and the predicate. And it matters not whether the reasoning be more or less simple or brief. No mere analysis of the terms of the prop- osition, however, can give the proof. The min d intuitively, necessarily, adds the predicate to the subject. The quotient of a 5 divided by a is seen unavoidably by every one so soon as he imderstands what is meant by the statement. Yet no mere analysis could give the proof. While they are therefore in their very nature distinguishable from analytic proofs, being apprehended at once by the mind, they may be denominated intuitive. Empirical proofs, being derived from without the mind, come to it only through experience, and hence obtain their name. Intuitive, like analytic proofs, need no subdivision. They include among others all those proofs which constitute what are called in logic immediate reasonings, such as logical con- version qf terms, restriction, transference of quality, hypo- thetical and disjunctive syllogisms. § 135. Intuitive, like analytic proofs, possess apodictic or demonstrative certainty. Unless there be inaccuracy in the application of them, they must always compel assent. Hence, it would be en- tirely unnecessary for conviction to advance any other argu- ments, were it not that, in the first place, there may be suspicion of inaccuracy in the application of the proof ; and, secondly, that the human mind has passions as well as in- tellectual powers, and in respect to both is subject to the laws of habit, and hence 126 CONFIRMATION. " convinced against its will Is of the same opinion still." Hence the necessity of superadding other proofs; mainly that the native love of truth may have opportunity of rising by the contemplation of proof and triumphing over prejudice and aversion. § 136. Empirical proofs are divided into three gen- eral classes : I. Antecedent probability ; II. Signs. III. Examples. The grounds of this classification may be thus exhibited. The empirical is either substance or cause. Empirical proofs, consequently, are those which lie in those relations of thought which are proper to an object viewed as substance or those proper to an object viewed as cause. The essential relations proper to a substance are those of substance and attribute ; those proper to a cause are cause and effect ; attributes being logical parts of a substance-whole, and effects logical parts of a causal whole. Now as all the movements of thought are in the relations of wholes and parts, and as these movements lie in one or the other of the two coordinate relations, either be- tween whole and part, or between part and complementary part, we have two general movements of thought, — the one between the whole and the part, called the deductive ; the other between the part and complementary part, called the indiMtive. But under the general deductive movement we have two specific forms of thought, as we may think in either direction from the whole to the part or from the part to the whole. It is plain that if there is a whole there are parts, and if there is a part there is a whole of which it is a part. If, for instance, we can exhibit a whole — man — as rational, we can exhibit it as proof that a part of that whole, say Hot- tentot, is rational. Or in the causal relation, if we can exhibit the sun as earth-iUuminating, we can use that as proof that the sun must illuminate any part of the earth, as New Hol- land, that is turned towards the sun. We may likewise reason OF THE TOPICS. 127 from a part to the whole ; we may infer a substance, an ag- gregate of attributes from a single attribute recognized but as a part ; or infer a cause from an effect. The existence of an attribute proves a substance ; the existence of an effect proves a cause. We have thus under the general movement of thought between whole and part, a class of proofs which Aristotle denominated generally Signs. Further, we may infer from one part to another part. For example, if this magnet, being a part of a whole class of bodies called mag' nets, attract, this other magnet, which is also a part of the class, likewise attracts. This last class of proofs, from part to complementary part, Aristotle called Examphs. Inasmuch as there %re but the two general forms of medi- ate reasonings mentioned, the deductive and the inductive, we can recognize but these two general classes of empirical proofs,'each however admitting divers subdivisions. Mediate reasonings are in Logic termed syllogisms. When ftiUy expressed, they necessarily require two propositions called premises, which together constitute what is caUed the antecedent of the reasoning, and a third proposition, which is the consequent or conclusion; and there can be but these three propositions in any simple syllogism. The reason of this is, that in every mediate reasoning, in every syllogism, we attain the conclusion which asserts a relation between its terms — its subject and predicate — only as we see a like relation between each of these terms and a third term. This relation between each of these terms and the third term re- spectively, is expressed in the two premises. But in discourse it is seldom necessary to set forth in form both of the prem- ises, the other being readily supplied in thought. Thus in the syllogism or mediate reasoning, AU magnets attract iron ; this body is a magnet ; therefore, this body attracts iron, either premise may remain unexpressed, as it would be suf- ficient to argue, TTiis is a magnet; therefore, it attracts iron ; or, AU magnets attract iron ; therefore, this body at- tracts iron. Every one would readily supply the suppressed 128 CONFIRMATION. premise in the first case, aU magnets attract iron ; and, in the second case, this body is a magnet. A mediate reasoning thus incompletely expressed, if deductive, i^ called an erUhymeme, — a Greek word, signifying something in the mind, something understood. In the same way, in the inductive syllogism, either premise may be suppressed ; as, in the syllogism fully stated. This magnet attracts iron ; thai new-found mineral is a magnet ; therefore, that new-found mineral attracts iron, we may give the conclusion. This new-found mineral attracts iron, with either premise added, to the exclusion of the other, for this magnet attracts iron, or, for this new-found mineral is a mag- net. The incompletely expressed inductive syllogism is in rhetoric called an example ; as Aristotle in his " Ehetoric," Book I. Chapter 2, teaches : " Syllogism is in rhetoric the enthymeme, and induction the example." It may be observed here that that term which appears in the expressed premise, and does not appear in the conclu- sion, is often called the argument. Thus in the example given above of an enthymeme, the term appearing in the expressed premise but not in the conclusion is the whole class magnet. This is the argument in the reasoning. Argu- mentation is accordingly well explained to mean using the middle term in discourse, that is, using it in its proper rela- tions to the two terms of a proposition as a ground of their agreement or disagreement. Further, signs, as the term was used by Aristotle, the father of Rhetoric as of Logic, being reasonings in the general relationship of whole and part, and, as already observed, the movement of thought being indifferent in either direction, either from the whole to the part or from the part to the whole, as the occasions of our thinking may dictate, we have a twofold distinction of signs. When we reason from the whole to the part, the proof has been called by some modern writers an antecedent prohaMlity proof, but is more fami- liarly known under the name of a priori proof ; and the term OF THE TOPICS. 129 sifffi, also more familiarly known as a posteriori, has been restricted to the other movement, or to that from the part to the whole. The name of the first class is objectionable both because it is a clumsy word, and also because it is too narrow in its scope. It seems to exclude aU reasonings in a whole of substance or attribute, and to embrace only events, things happening or becoming ; in other words, only reason- ings in a causal whole. The origin of the nomenclature seems to have lain in a strange misinterpretation of Aris- totle. Yet in his " Prior Analytics," Book II. Chapter 29, Aristotle in express terms includes under signs both kinds of whole, — substance and cause, — both attribute-relations and events ; and in his '"Rhetoric," his examples may, as is very often the case, be interpreted either as in the one or as in the other relation. As no exactly appropriate term is in use, however, the uncouth designation antecedent 'probability, or what is little better, a priori, may be retained. But it must be understood that these are names derived from a part only of this class of proofs — those which respect events — while they really embrace, the two classes, causal wholes, composed of events, and substance- wholes, composed of attri- butes. Thus in the enthymeme, Gaitm is mortal for fie is a man, the proof lies not in a causal whole, does not respect an event, but lies in a whole of substance, and respects an attribute mortal as belonging to Gains or to the argument man. The terms sign and a posteriori have been used in like error as if applicable to proofs in causal wholes only. Indeed, logicians and rhetoricians have. in general foiled to distinguish the movements of thought in the relations of sub- stance and attribute from those in the causal relations. There is no occasion for subdividing the second great class of proofs — Examples — in respect to the alternative direction in which the thought may move, for here the rela- tion is ever between part and part. In the sign the alterna- tive movement was between whole and part, being either from whole to part or from part to whole. 9 130 CONFIRMATION. We have thus the three general classes of empirical proofs named, Antecedent Probability, otherwise called a pn- orj" proofs ; Signs, otherwise called a 'posteriori proofs, and Examples. § 137. Antecbbbnt probability, or a priori proofs, are those in which an attribute is inferred from a given substance, or an effect from a cause. In this kind of proofs, as indeed in all empirical proofs, the fundamental truth is assumed that every substance has its proper attributes,' and every cause its proper effects, as a necessity of our thinking. Wherever, accordingly, we recog- nize a substance, we are authorized to infer its proper attri- butes; and wherever we recognize a cause, to infer its proper effects. As these two relations, of substance to its attri- butes on the one hand, and of cause to its effects on the other, are not only in themselves radically different, but are also expressed, in aU their multitudinous modifications in thought, in ways more or less different in language, it will greatly facilitate invention in all argumentative discourse to make the distinction practically familiar by habituating the thought to seek out proofs in the two different fields in con- sciously distinct efforts, by inquiring first what proofs the one relation will furnish ; and then what the other wiU fur- nish. When the mind has trained itself to pursue these in- quiries thus distinctly with readiness, it will, on the occasions of actual argumentation, be likely at once and, without con- scious effort to enter the field which will yield the proofs most effective for its purposes at the time. At all events, "its searches for proofs will be more likely to be ready, thor- ough, and successful. These two more generic kinds of antecedent probability proofs comprise divers subdivisions. Of these the higher and more common varieties will be described. Language has not yet furnished a full nomenclature in this department OF THE TOPICS. 131 of rhetorical science, and therefore only descriptions can be given without names for the several varieties. § 138. From a given substance there may be in- ferred both the aggregate of its attributes and also any- one attribute. From the existence of man, thus, we infer aU that can be attributed to man as essential to his being as man, — that there is reason, that there is animal hody. Not only this, but any constituent attribute of either of these composite attri- butes down to the last degree ; as, for instance, that there is intelligence, feeling, will ; that there is perception, intuition, thought ; that there are, moreover, all materi,al attrihvutes, and also organization ; that there is, further, life, growth, etc., etc., in short any one of all the manifold capacities and qualities inherent in man, as man. The proof is equally valid whether we stop with the first and highest gradation or with any subsequent and lower gradation ; and also whether we choose to infer all or but a part or but one of the particular constituent attributes. It is also equally valid if we begin with some composite attribute instead of the primitive substance, if, for instance, we begin with intelli- gence, and reason that there is perception because there is intelligence ; or that there is circulation because there is vital organization. All proofs of this kind, so common, so familiar, are of the same essential nature as those in which atti'ibutes are inferred from substance. They are all of the deductive nature of thought, the movem-ent of thought being from the whole to the part. They include the proofs gen- erally known as those which lie in the relation of a law to * what exists under it ; a law in this connection being un- derstood to he merely a general fact. Thus it is said, It is the law of material bodies that they gravitate, that they are heavy. Gravitation, heaviness, is the attribute, the law of material bodies. Whatever is an attribute of a class is 132 CONFIRMATION. thus the law of the class ; it is in fact the base in part or in whole on which the class is formed. The relative attributes, those of condition and of relation proper, as Well as the essential attributes of quality and action, afford familiar instances of proofs of this species. Examples of proofs of condition are : Wickliffe and Chaucer were contemporaries, for the former died in 1384, the latter in 1400 ; Sir Philip Sidney witnessed the massacre of St. Bartholomew, for he was then at Paris on his journey on the Continent ; He must he unconscious of crime, for he sleeps quietly ; There is need of laborers, for the harvest is ripe. In aU of these examples we have conclusions founded on attributes of condition, the first two being those of primitive condition or of relation to time or space, the last two of derivative condition — sleep and ripeness. The force of the proof in each case lies in this, that the attribute which is the iliatter of the proof contains or involves the truth of the conclusion — thus in the second example, presence in Paris during August, 1572, involving presence at the massacre August 24th of that year, and in the last, ripeness involving the condition of fitness for the reaper. The attributes of relation proper are used in like fre- quency as proofs, wherever one relationship involves an- other, — in other words, stands in the general relation to it of whole to part. Thus Addison infers from the omnipres- ence of God — from this relation to men — his merciful regard toward them ; the relation of personal pfesenccj that is, in all his attributes, involving the relation of his presence in each of his attributes, and consequently ia his attribute of mercy. Of this variety of proofj also, is that which Bentley urges against the imposition of religious dogmas as articles of faith, on the ground that religion lies beyond the sphere of reason. His argument is : True reason is never de- ceived nor ever deceives ; therefore whatsoever is inconsist- ent with natural reason can never be justly imposed as an article of faith. The general attribute of reason in its re- OF THE TOPICS. 133 lation to truth — never deceived nor deceiving — involves this particular attribute of reason in relation to all religious teaching. This, then, is a general view of the first leading species of a priori or antecedent probability proofs, in which from a proper substance-whole we infer the aggregate of attri- butes, or any particular attribute, whether it be attribute of quality, of action, of condition, or of relation proper. § 139. In the second place, from a given cause we may infer either the entire effect or any part of it. From the rise of the sap in the tree, thus, we infer that there will be foliage, bloom, fruit, and other particulars of vegetable growth — all or any one. The circulation of the sap is, in this instance, that which we represent to ourselves as the cause which, unless something interfere to hinder its operation, necessarily involves these effects. So, observed diligence and integrity excite the confident expectation of thrift and success. These are known causes of such a result. This species of proof is frequently employed in questions of fact. Thus, that the burning of Rome under Nero was actually caused by that unscrupulous tyrant, is inferred from his known character. Such a man would, in working out his proper disposition, do such a deed as that. So Mr. Cur- ran, in his defense of Finney, who was tried for treason, employed with much force the perjured and corrupt charac- ter of the informer in the case, in proof of the groundless- ness of the charge. Such a man would fabricate such an accusation. The existence of the cause, in other words, is urged by Mr. Curran in proof of the corruption and perjury in which the false charge of.treason agamst his client origi- nated. § 140. The proof is of the nature of an antecedent probability or a priori proof when the absence of a suf- 134 CONFIRMATION. ficient operative cause is urged against the belief of a supposed event. Wiile from the laws of the mind we necessarily antici- pate the appropriate effect from the observed operation of a cause, so likewise, on the other hand, we reject the suppo- sition of an event having occurred, if there be no proper cause to produce it. The absence of all motive to commit an imputed crime is thus esteemed a strong proof against the fact of its having been committed. There is, properly speaking, no cause existing of a sup- posed event, when there is no opportunity aflfbrded for its operation. In such a case, the cause is virtually wanting. If, thus, there be a known ground for the probability of the commission of the crime in the character of the accused, yet if there be no possible, opportunity for committing it, there is no operating cause ; and the proof is as valid in this form as in the other where the non-existence of the cause itself is presented. Criminal trials abound with instances of this species of proof in both of its forms. A single exemplification wUI suffice to illustrate its nature and application. In the " Goodridge case " so called, Mr. Webster urges the want of all possibility of previous arrangement and concert, which the circumstances of the alleged crfme presupposed, in proof of the innocence of the accused ; while, on the other hand, he feels himself called to rebut the proof aris- ing from the want of motive on the part of the prosecuting witness to feign a robbery.* § 141. The force of any given antecedent proba- bility proof of this species will depend on the degree of certainty in the connection between the cause and the eflFect. * Webster's Speeches, Vol. II. In this case two men were tried on a charge of robbery committed on the person of Goodridge, who was the pros- ecuting witness. The mam reliance of the defense was that the robbery was a pretense. OF THE TOPICS. 135 If the cause be adequate to the effect and actually operate, or no.hinderance intervene, the proof is con- clusive. If, on the other hand, there be uncertainty whether the cause actually operate, or whether it oper- ate free from hinderance or interruption, the force of , the proof will be so far impaired. Where the proof lies in the absence of all cause for the supposed effect, the conclusion will be more or less certain according to the degree in which all causes or occasions possible in the case are excluded. Afi. important distinction is to be made between those an- tecedent probability proofs which are purely physical and such as are ^oral. A physical cause micst operate when the occasion is presented. We infer with absolute certainty that water exposed will freeze when the temperature is be- low the freezing point. We cannot so certainly infer that a covetous man will steal or defraud when an opportunity is afforded ; or that a threat of vindictive passion was actually followed by murder when occasion of executing it was pre- sented. § 142. Signs, or a posteeioei proofs, are deductive proofs in which the whole is inferred from the part, — either the substance or the law from the particular attri- bute, or the cause from the effect. This proof, as has been already stated, consists in a move- ment of thought directly opposite to that in the former spe- cies. There the substance or the cause was given, and the attribute or the effect inferred ; here the attribute or the ef- fect is given, and the substance or the cause is inferred. The validity of the proof is obvious. It will be readily seen, also, that the search for proofs will be greatly faciUtated by having the distinct classes familiarly present in the mind, so that the inquiry may be definitely directed over the several fields successively. 136 CONFIRMATION. Inasmuch as all qualities of objects are made known to us by some effect on our organs, and are thus known by us as effects, it is generally immaterial whether we regard the proof as one of attribute or effect, and so the conclusion as law or cause, and it is often equally easy to represent it in actual discourse in the one form as in the other. There is, however, a true distinction in the respective natures of these species of proofs. Exemplifications of these proofs are familiar. The mari- ner infers, thus, from the increasing blue of the ocean, the decreasing depth of the water, and so his approximation to the coast. We infer, too, from the presence of ice, that the temperature must have fallen below the freezing point. The discovery of a bloody weapon in the hands of a man after a murder known to have been perpetrated by such an instru- ment, is a strong sign or proof against him as the cause. What is called circumstantial evidence in judicial procedures is for the most part of this kind of proofs. It is often falla- cious, but only because there may be divers specific causes or antecedents of the same effect. Of the reality of some cause, the existence of the effect leaves no room for ques* tion ; but of the particular cause in the case there may be room for doubt. When many circumstances point in the same direction as signs of a particular cause, the concurrence has frequently led to error. Thus, to take a single instance from the history of judicial mistakes in following circum- stantial evidence ; a man of the name of Shaw was convicted and executed in Edinburgh in 1721, for the murder of his daughter, — the signs of guilt in the case being his having been heard to use violent language toward her for opposing his wishes, just before she was found weltering in her blood with a knife beside her ; her having been heard to complain of his barbarity, and to say just as she was dying, that he was the cause of her death ; the agitation he showed on being brought into the presence of his daughter ; and the discovery of blood on his shirt. It was ascertained before OF THE TOPICS. 137 his body was taken from the gibbet, that the daughter was a suicide, and that the agitation of the father was only a sign of his grief and horror, not of his conscious guilt ; and the blood on his shirt was from his own arm, having been bled some days before, and therefore not from the body of his daughter. Signs are not infallible proofs of any supposa- ble law or cause, but only of some law, of some cause. The error in this and other like cases does not lie in the in- ference of a cause from a given effect, but in the acceptance of the wrong cause. § 143. Signs are proofs not only of a substance, or a cause of which they are respectively the attributes or the effects, but also of the conditions in which the sub- stance or the cause must have existed or operated. Every substance must have an existence and every cause operate in some space and time, and in concurrence with other substances, with other causes, with other circumstances generally. It often happens that from the attribute or the effect we wish to prove, not the law or the cause, but these conditions of their existence or operation. And the proof, it is clear, although mediate, is equally valid as the immedi- ate proof of a law or a cause. Thus in the trial of Knapp at Salem, Massachusetts, Mr. "Webster argued from the fact of the house having been entered without violence, that there was concert with some one who had access within, the quiet entrance by the assassin being a sign of that condition, — the concerted understanding with an inmate. Wheresoever, accordingly, the existence of an attribute or an effect implies an occasion or a condition of its existence or operation, it is a sign, and valid proof of the occasion or condition. There are a number of varieties of signs partaking of the character of one or the other of the classes mentioned, both attributes and effects, and which are valid proofs both of substance or cause, and also of occasion or condition, several 138 CONFIRMATION. of which warrant a distinct notice. They will accordingly be considered in the following sections. § 144. Testimony is a variety of signs, the validity of which as proof consists in this — that the testimony presupposes the fact testified to as the condition with- out which it would not hav« been given. The credibility of a witness does not always depend on his character for veracity. The testimony of a notorious liar and perjurer is sometimes conclusive ; and on this prin- ciple, that we cannot believe he should so testify — we cannot account for his testimony, unless the events testified to were facts. The testimony is, in other words, a sign of the facts as condition. The degree of weight to be attributed to testimony is al- ways to be estimated by this view of the nature of testimony — that it is a sign, implying the facts to which it testifies as more or less necessary conditions of its having been given. Whenever, therefore, occasions or motives exist in the case for giving the testimony other than the truth, the credibility of the witness wiU be so far impaired. We are thus to judge of the credibility of historians. The historian of a sect or of a party must be received as a credible witness only so far as it may appear that truth was the condition of his speak- ing as he does. AU admissions against his own sect or party, unless made as baits and lures, will be received as honest tes- timony. ^ It is from this view of the nature of testimony as proof, that we see why opportunity and capability of observing come in to afiect the credibility of a witness. If these qualifica- tions are wanting, the necessary conditions of all testimony are wanting, and there is nothing on which the testimony can rest. § 145. Authority is a variety of signs ; and is distinguished from testimony by the circumstance that OF THE TOPICS. 139 authority respects matters of opinion, while testimony respects matters of fact. The opinions of competent men weigh as proof inasmuch as we cannot conceive how such men should entertain those opinions unless they were founded on truth. If, however, we can discover the influence of other causes to determine their opinions, their authority weighs less with us. The opinions of legal tribunals, pronounced after the fullest dis- cussions on both sides by interested and able men, under the solemnities of a judicial trial, are weighty authority ; because it is not conceivable that such opinions can rest on any other foundation than truth. Such opinions are to be regarded as effects which could not be supposed to have existence except on condition of truth. They are thus valid signs. The validity of legal precedents may properly be subjected to this test. An independent and intelligent judge will set aside a precedent on proof that the decision was determined by other motives than love of truth or rectitude. § 146. CONCURKENT TESTIMONY AND CONCURRENT AUTHORITY belong also to this species of proofs. The mere concurrence of witnesses or judges, apart from all consideration of their personal claims to credibility, is a sign, often conclusive, that the fact or opinion is truly as represented. Previous concert, or common interest, at once impairs the force of this proof. For tlen a cause or occasion is fur- nished to account for the fact of the testimony other than the actual truth. § 147. Examples are inductive proofs which rest on the resemblance or the common property or relation that exists between parts of the same whole. One is taken, and from something found to be true of that, an infer- ence is drawn to one or all of the others. 140 • CONFIRMATION. The naturalist, thus, having discovered by analysis the inorganic constituents of a particular plant, infers from this example that any other of the same sf ecies wiU contain the same constituents. Mr. Burke, in his Speech on the East India Bill, sustains his charge of hypocrisy against the East India Company by adducing as examples their treatment of Mr. Hastings, on the one hand, whom they reprehended with unparalleled asperity, and yet continued to trust with the entire control of their affairs in India; and of Colonel Munson, General Clavering, and Mr. Francis, on the other, whom they " ruined by their praises." To prove that the rate of wages does not depend on the severity of the labor, but on the value of the work done, the examples have been urged that a carpenter earns more than a plowman, and a watch-maker more than either. So Hooker in his " Ecclesi- astical Polity," Book III., urges an invented example to show that " we must acknowledge even heretics themselves to be, though a maimed part, yet a part of the visible Church." " For," he adds, " if an infidel should pursue to death a here- tic professing Christianity, only for Christian profession sake, could we deny unto him the honor of martyrdom ? Yet, this honor all men know to be proper unto the Church. Heretics therefore," he concludes, " are not utterly cut off from the visible Church of Christ." Sydney Smith, also, in showing that mind is transmissible, urges analogically the examples, that some ill-tempered horses constantly breed ill-tempered colts, and that if the eggs of a wild duck be hatched under a tame duck, the young brood will be much wilder than any common brood of poultry. The force of the example, as a proof, rests ultimately upon the principle that the parts of the same whole are in some respects similar, in other respects different from each other. The two triangles formed by bisecting a square by a diagonal are similar in so far as they participate of the whole. They have sides respectively equal, they contain alike right angles, for the square has equal sides and right angles. OF THE TOPICS. 141 They are different in so far as they are parts complementary of each other. One is at the right, the other at the left of the bisecting diagonal ; they are different in this respect. So, likewise, from one part of a material substance — from one attribute, as an example — we may infer the same of another part in respect of the common whole of which they are attributes and the different in respect of their being com- plementary of each other. Thus, hrightness and roundness are attributes of the sun, a visible body. They are alike visible in so far as they are parts of a visible substance ; they are different in respect of their being complementary of each other — one being a visible attribute of form, the other, one of degree or intensity. In like manner in the case of a causal whole, any two effects are alike so far as proceeding from the same cause, and different so far as complementary. This is the general logical ground of the validity in this class of proofs. It points at once to the different leading species and also to the tests of their validity. As empirical proofs may be applied both to a substance and to a cause, we have the two different species which are distinguished from each other as attributes and effects. It is not necessary for practical utility further to consider this distinction already made familiar in the view we have taken of the former classes of proofs. It is pertinent to remark that the name, example, iS" derived rather from the causal relation or the relation of effects to each other. Next we have the two kinds of examples as proofs dis- tinguished by the nature of the inference, as in the one kind we infer the same, in the other, the different. "While we accept as a principle not to be questioned that the same cause produces ever the same effect — that " like causes work like effects," we accept the correlative principle as equally unquestionable, that the same cause works different effects in different conditions — that " circumstances alter cases." The radiation of heat changes the condition of both the 142 CONFIRMATION. body from which and of the body to which it passes ; one is cooled, the other warmed ; one is contracted, the other expanded. There is thus ever a same and a different between the two complementary effects of any operating cause. There is a difficulty, however, in applying the principle. Heat, we observe, expands iron ; it contracts clay. Both the iron and the clay change form and size ; the effects so far are the same, but they are opposite in character — one being increase, the other diminution. It would seem at first view that the principle of like causes producing like effects fails here. But it is the presence of another cause only that has made the difference ; the heat has expanded and so evaporated and driven off the water in the clay, so that the whole body now has less matter than before ; it has shrunk under the force of heat that ever expands the material bodies which it enters. The difficulty that always attends the rigid application of the principle lies precisely here, — that manifold causes are ever conspiring in" their operation,, and we are often unable to discriminate the several effects so as to refer them to their respective causes on the one hand, and on the other to discriminate the several causes so as to trace out each to its respective effect. Only so far as in the complication of causes and effects we can connect the effect with its own cause, can we have decisive proof. We have thus the first general test of the validity of examples as proofs, — ThM the example and thai of which it serves as the proof he connected with the same cause. This fundamental principle of induction furnishes the an- swer to the question : How many examples are necessary to validate the inference ? One is sufficient if but one cause can be supposed to operate ; the only necessity for others lies in the fact of the great complication of causes and effects in the world around us. Hence it is that examples must be multiplied to eliminate all foreign causes and show the two effects — the example and that to which we induce — to have OF THE TOPICS. 143 been produced by the same cause. The philologist might safely infer from observing in a given language a single instance of a second-fiiture tense, that this tense-form was a general feature of the -language, since the single cause that could have originated the use of it lies in the primitive nature of the language. He could not, however, infer from observing that in a particular case this species of time was expressed by auxiliariea, that the language contained no proper tense-form for this time ; for accidental causes may have produced exceptions to a general law. So one observed instance of a particular metal sinking in water might authorize the conclusion that the specific gravity of the metal generally was greater than that of water — that all pieces of the same metal would sink in the same fluid ; for but one cause can here be supposed to act in determin- ing the metal to sink. But one could not properly infer that all ores of the metal would be of grayish color, from observing a single specimen of that color ; since, in this case, a diversity of causes may exist in different locahties to determine the color of an ore. But as any two complementary effects of the same cause are, as we have seen, in some respects different as well as in other respects the same, we may as legitimately infer this dif- ferent as the same ; and we need to be guided by a valid test which shall discriminate when we are to infer the same and when the different. This test is this, — Any two com- plementary effects of the same cause are the same in essential properties, whether of quality or of action ; they are different in their conditions and relations to each other. It is not within the proper province of rhetoric either on the one hand to demonstrate the validity of these prin- ciples regulating the use of examples as proofs, nor on the other hand to show their application to all the diversities of objects and events presented to our experience. Its task is fulfilled by the exhibition of the general grounds on which the validity of examples as proofs rests, wilfc sufficient illus- 144 CONFIRMATION. trations of their use to show their proper nature, and so guide to a ready and intelligent selection of them. It is pertinent to remark here that it is important carefully to distinguish the different purposes for which an example may be introduced into discourse. It is used not only as proof iu argumentation, but also as mere illustration, and likewise for ornament. It may subserve, moreover, any two or more of these purposes at the same time. An argument consequently may be disguised under what appears to be a mere illustration or embellishment, and may thus have force as proof which it could not have had if exhibited in its own form and dress, as then its weakness or unsoundness would have been detected. So, likewise, a solid argument may be taken for a mere ornament or illustration. § 148. Examples may be used as proofs of attri- butes, or of changes or events. The grounds of this general division of examples have already been sufficiently exhibited. From the attributes of being organized, and having a circulating system belonging to the boughs as proofs, we infer the same attributes as belong- ing to the leaves or other parts of the same substance — tree. From the effects of destitution and ignorance — of physical and mental hunger — in degrading one community of men, as an example, we infer the degradation of other communities where the same cause prevails. § 149. Examples may be used as propfs in relation to one or more other parts of the same substance, or of the same complement of attributes ; and also to one or more other effects of the same cause. Arguments from induction have sometimes been received as a distinct variety of proofe from examples. But the movement of the thought is essentially the same. Induction is ever from the part to the part, as Aristotie says ; * " not * Ehet., I. 2. OF THE TOPICS. 145 from part to whole, nor from whole to part, nor from whole to whole ; but as part to part, like to like.'' In strict- est logic it is from one of two parts to the other com- plementary part ; in looser movements of thought, and gen- erally in empirical matter, it is from one part to any one or more of many complementary parts. But it is clear that if the induction is valid in reference to one part, it is equally valid in reference to any other, and so to aU. As we start with what is true of one part, and then by induc- tion attain to what is true of the rest, we have, by putting our antecedent and conclusion together, a truth embracing all. Having the fact attested to us that intelligence betters the condition of communities, so far as we are acquainted with them, we infer from this example that it will likewise improve the condition of other communities. We only com- bine the truth with which we started with that which we have induced, when we conclude that intelligence improves the condition of men generally. § 150. Examples are founded either on resemblance of properties or on resemblance of relations. Those of the latter kind are denominated arguments from ANALOGY. WhUe an argument from analogy differs thus from other examples in the circumstance that the former is founded on a resemblance of relations, while the others rest on a resem- blance of properties, yet the same principle gives alike to both varieties all their force as proofs, namely, our convic- tion of the uniformity of Nature. § 151. Analogical reasoning is simple when the two things compared bear a similar relation to a third. As when from the relation of the earth to its uses, it is inferred that other planets, from the same relation, may be inhabited. Or, when it is inferred, from the fact that virtu* affects our well-being, that vice must hkewise ; virtue and 10 146 CONFIRMATION. vice being both moral habits and dispositions, and the rela- tion being the same — both alike affecting condition. § 152. Analogical reasoning is complex when two different relations are introduced. Thus it may be argued from the fact that virtue tends to happiness, that vice must tend to misery. In this case, the whole analogical proof rests on the similarity of relation between virtue and vice, respectively, and welfare. This is the generic relation. Another specific relation is introduced as belonging to each of the terms — that of virtue to happi- ness, and of vice to misery. These are dissimilar relations. It is by another principle of proof that the tendency to afiect welfare common to virtue and vice is believed to be in the one case salutary, in the other pernicious. This is an in- stance of Aristotle's argument from contraries — e^ ivavTMv. In a complex analogical argument, however, it is not always necessary that the second relations should be to oppo- sites. As from the relation of a seed to the plant .we may argue in respect to the relation of an egg to the fowl. The relations of a germ to the parent and to the living product are common to the seed and to the egg. . These are the generic relations. The specific relations of the egg to the fowl and of the seed to the plant are dissimilar, but are not proper opposites. The force of the analogy reaches only to the similarity or resemblance of the relations. § 153. Examples may be bbal or invented. Real examples, or such as are taken from actual observation or experience, carry with them their own e^dence. Invented examples must possess intrinsic probability or be credible in themselves ; otherwise they evidently can have no weight as arguments. Aristotle instances, as an invented example, that employed OF THE TOPICS. 147 by Socrates, of the mariners choosing their steersman by lot. The case, probably, never in fact occurred ; but it clearly might occur, and it well illustrates the possibility of the lot falling upon an unskillful person ; and, therefore, was a valid argument as used by Socrates against the practice, then com- mon, of appointing magistrates by lot. Dr. Whately has well observed that while a fictitious case which has not this intrinsic probability has absolutely no weight whatever, any matter of fact, on the other hand, however unaccountable it may seem, has some degree of weight in reference to a parallel case. " No satisfactory reason," he proceeds to remark, " has yet been assigned for a connection between the absence of upper cutting teeth, or of the presence of horns, and rumination ; but the instances are so numerous and constant of this connection, that no naturalist would hesitate, if on examination of a new spe- cies he found those teeth absent and the head horned, to pro- nounce the animal a ruminant." § 154. As the points of resemblance between differ- ent otjects are diverse, and things most unHke may yet have some resemblance to each other, and therefore be embraced under the same class, it becomes important in the use of this kind of argument, on the one hand, carefiilly to set forth the particular point of resem- blance on which the argument rests ; and, on the other, in estimating the weight of the argument to reject from the estimate those points in which there is no re- semblance. While those arguments which rest on resemblances in ob- jects most unlike are generally in themselves more strik- ing and forcible, they are yet often sophistically invalidated and rejected, because in most respects the objects compared are so dissimilar. - On the other hand, no sophistry, perhaps, is more common than that of assuming a resemblance. in all 148 CONFIRMATION. points where there is such resemblance in many. In the use of this species of argument, it becomes, then, of the ut- most importance to bear in mind both that the most similar things differ in some respects, and perhaps in that very point on which the argument in a given case depends ; and, also, that the most dissimilar things may have some properties or relations in common, and may therefore furnish foundations for valid reasoning. The decisive test of the soundness of all arguments founded on resemblance, is farnished in the inquiry, Do the 'particulars of resemblance owe their existence to the same cause ? As the whole force of examples as arguments rests on the sameness of the cause, or of the law or general attri- bute in the proof and the conclusion on which the classifica- tion depends, the detection of this cause, where possible, wiU ever discover the validity or invalidity of the example as an argument. Just so far as there remains a doubt of the same- ness of the cause or law, so far must there be weakness in the argument. § 155. While all simple arguments may be referred to some one of the foregoing classes, many complex arguments partake of the nature of two or more ; their force in reasoning is consequently modified in reference to the respective character of the classes of arguments of the nature of which they partake. What is often called a priori reasoning not unfrequently in- cludes in itself not only an antecedent-probabUity argument, but also a sign or an example. From the falling of the barometer we infer a priori that there wUl be a change of the weather ; not because we suppose the fall of the mer- cury to be the cause of the change, but because it is the sign of the existence of the cause. We in this case; in truth, first argue by a sign, to the existence of a cause, and then by an antecedent-probability argument, to its effect, namely, a change of the weather. In the argument in " the Good- OF THE TOPICS. 149 ridge case," before referred to, § 140, several circumstances are advanced as signs in proof of a cause or motive to feign a robbery ; from which cause, thus proved, the inference is that the prosecution was groundless. Lord Chatham, in his speech " on removing the troops from Boston," argues the continued and determined resist- ance of the Americans to an arbitrary system of taxation from the spirit of liberty which animated them in common with all Englishmen ; and the existence of this spirits is proved by an example — the proceedings of the Gteneral Congress at Philadelphia. This would ordifjarily be called an a priori argument, inasmuch as the force of it rests mainly on the existing cause to produce the continued resist- ance. But an example is introduced to prove the existence of the cause, and the intermediate step of the argument, the cause itself, is not expressed but only implied. In the same speech we have another form of the combina- tion of the antecedent-probability argument with the exam- ple. The example is introduced, not, as in the other case, to prove the antecedent-probability argument itself, but to con- firm it as proof of the main proposition. The speaker ex- emplifies the working of that spirit of liberty in the efifect- ual opposition to " loans, benevolences, and ship-money in England," Lq the procuring of " the biU of rights," etc. The reasoning, as a whole, is a priori, but is complex, consisting of an antecedent-probability argument and examples. By an a priori argument, the fact of a revelation from Heaven is inferred from the general corruption of the human race. The argument consists of an antecedent-probability argument — the determination of God to do all that is neces- sary to effect the recovery of the race — and of a sign, the corruption of the race, to prove the necessity of such an interposition by revelation. A posteriori reasoning, also, often includes arguments of different classes. From the migration of birds to the north, we infer that some of the various effects of spring have 150 CONFIRMATION. appeared in the place of their hibernation. From the migra- tion of birds, as a sign, we infer the return of warm weather as its cause ; and from this we infer agaia, by an antecedent- probability argument, the usual effects of the return of spring. While both a 'priori and a 'posteriori reasoning thus often contain arguments of two or more classes, there is yet an obvious distiuction between them. In the former, the ante- ceaent-probability argument is the one on which the force of the reasoning mainly depends ; in the latter, the sigu or the example is the promiaent argument. The analysis of complex arguments wiU often discover the precise amount of validity due to them. It wiH disclose also the point where the sophistry of a suspected proof enters. Testimony and authority, also, often combine arguments of different species, and are themselves frequently combined together in the same process of reasoning. What is often called reasoning from experience, is dis- tinguished from other species of reasoning only by the source from which the arguments are derived. The argument from progressive approach, so called, is but a species of induction,, in which we argue from the increase or diminution in the effect according as a particular cause is increased or diminished in several examples, to the perfect completeness, or the entire removal of the effect when the cause is perfectly operative or whoUy removed : e. g., if we put a ball in motion on a rough surface, its motion soon ceases ; on a smoother surface, its motion is proportionally prolonged: hence, we infer that if there were no resistance at all the motion would be perpetual. A sophistical Use of this argument has been made by some enthusiastic advocates of temperance. They have assumed that disease and death are the consequence exclusively of a corrupt constitution inherited from parents who have violated the laws of health, or of a transgression of those laws by the individual himself. OF THE TOPICS. 151 They then urge the facts that temperance and correct regimen promote health and long life, just in proportion as the constitution is free from original corruption and the laws of health are observed. They hence infer that a perfect and imiversal observance of the laws of health wUl in time purify the stock itself, the human constitution wUl be re- stored to its perfect state, and disease and death will dis- appear. § 156. Empirical proofs never carry with them- selves necessary certainty, although they possess all degrees of probability, from mere probability to fiiU but not necessary certainty. Antecedent-probability arguments sometimes produce full certainty. If the cause certainly exists and no hinderance can arise, the effect is certain, and the proof is decisive of belief. Just so far as doubts may arise in regard to the sufficiency of the cause or the opportunity of its operating, just so far will the reasoning from this class of proofs be invalidated. Signs possess full certainty, or higher or lower degrees of probability, according as the cause or occasion to be proved by them is more or less necessary to their existence. The conclusiveness of examples as proofs depends on the question whether in the particular character in which they are presented as proofs, they are included in the same general law, or are determined by the same cause which is supposed in the thing to be proved. From observing the organic structure in one plant, the naturalist will safely conclude in regard to any other plant of the same species. He cannot, however, so conclude in regard to the color. But one cause can be supposed to operate in the former case ; in the latter, various causes may have influence. § 157. From the diverse nature of the different kinds of arguments enumerated it will appear at once 152 CONFIRMATION. that while some are applicable to all subjects, others are adapted only to particular kinds of subjects. Analytical proofs are applicable to every kind of subject, as is obvious from their nature. Of Synihetieal proofs, the intuitive class belong dis- tinctively to mathematical reasoning or pure science. They are employed, however, in all kinds of dis- course. Empirical proofs are employed in all reasoning that respects matters of experience, whether the reasoning terminates on facts or on general truths. CHAPTER V. OF THE AKKANGEMENT OF AKGUMENTS. § 158. The importance of attention to arrangement in confirmation depends mainly on two principles. The first respects the state of the mind addressed. The method suited to a mind favorably disposed will generally be unsuitable to a mind opposed to convic- tion, and vice versa. The second principle respects the dependence of the proofs on one another. Some proofs are explained by others, which must be previously exhibited in order to the full effect of the reasoning. Some proofs presup- pose others. Some, once more, have great weight if preceded by certain others, and are of little moment unless preceded by them. The force and effect of reasoning deptod, indeed, hardly less on the order than on the matter of the proofs. Argu- ments perfectly conclusive when presented in the proper or- der may lose all their force if advanced in a different order. § 159. If the reasoning embrace arguments of dis- tinct classes, the principle of arrangement is to be sought, first, in the state of the mind addressed. If there be already a state of belief, and the object of the discourse is to confirm and strengthen it, then the weaker arguments will generally need to be placed first, and the stronger ones last. In this way the deepest and strongest impression will be the last. 154 CONFIRMATION. If there be an opposing belief to be set aside, it will be better to advance the stronger first, in order to overthrow opposition at once. The weaker may follow, which will serve to confirm when they would be of no avail in the first assault. In order to leave, however, a strong impression, some of the stronger should be reserved to the close ; or, what is equivalent, the arguments may be recapitulated in the reverse order. Although this principle of arrangement, derived from a consideration of the state of the mind addressed, is not the higher and more controlling one, but must generally give way to the next to be named, still the state of the mind addressed must be first consulted, for that will often deter- mine what kind of arguments are to be employed, as well as the order of arrangement. This principle, it will be observed, respects only the com- parative strength of the argmnents. § 160. The second principle to be regarded in the arrangement of proofs respects the dependence of the arguments on one another. This principle requires, in the first place, that the analytic proof s precede all others. The reason of this rule is obvious. As in exhibiting a proof of this class, the propositicai itself must necessarily be explained, the relevance and force of every other proof will be more clearly seen after such an explanation. In a judi- cial question, for example, whether certain specified acts constitute legal murder, after the definition of murder has been given, the arguments from authority or " legal prec- edents " wiU obviously be more intelligible and also of rnore force as confirmatory. § 161. This principle requires, in the second place, OF THE ARRANGEMENT OF ARGUMENTS. 155 that antecedent-prohdbility arguments precede, examples and signs. The example, introduced after the antecedent-probability argument, will serve both to illustrate and also to confirm it. Indeed, in this order, they reflect light on each other. Mr. Burke, in his speech on the Nabob of Arcot's debts, in en- deavoring to prove that India had been reduced to a con- dition of extreme want and wretchedness, first presents the causes in operation to produce it ; then, examples of the operation of those causes ; and finally particular signs of the fact. The mind very readily receives the whole statement, because, from the view of the cause, the effects are naturally anticipated. In Dr. Barrow's discourse on the Divine Impartiality, the a priori arguments are with obvious propriety presented first; and then the a posteriori arguments. If the order had been reversed the force of the reasoning would have been greatly weakened. A charge of fraud against a man generally reputed to be of upright character would need a strong array of proof from signs, as testimony and the like, to substantiate it. But let a spirit of covetousness be first proved in him, and especially if a single example be adduced in which that spirit has led aside from what was upright and manly, and a very small amount of' proof wiU suffice to establish tbe charge. In like manner the proof of the divine authenticity of the Bible is conclusive when sufficient cause is first shown for such an interposition from God, and then the arguments from testimony and the internal evidence are presjsnted. But without such cause being first shown, scarcely any amount of testimony wLU be sufficient to overcome the repugnance of the mind to believe that a miracle has been wrought. CHAPTER VI. OP PKESUMPTION ; OK, THE BUBDEN OF PKOOP. , § 162. It is of great importance in argumentation to determine at the outset both in reference to the main proposition, and also in reference to the particular facts or truths assumed as proofs, whether they may be fairly presumed or taken for granted luitU disproved. This is called determining on which side the presumption is, or on which the bubdbn of proof — onus prolandi — lies ; the burden of proof always resting on the side opposite to that in favor of which the presumption exists. The importance of determining this point consists not merely in the fact that thereby the labor of proof may often be saved, but still more in the fact, that the mere undertak- ing to prove what ought to be presumed, wUl often throw doubt upon what was clear and unquestionable. The verac- ity of a witness is ever to be taken for granted imtil it is impeached. If one were to volunteer a defense of the char- acter of a witness before it had been questioned, the very attempt would excite a suspicion that the character needed some bolstering, and that the advocate was influenced by his own distrust to make the attempt. So, Ukewise, if a man, who had been slandered, were to undertake a defense against the slanderer, instead of throwing the whole burden of proof on the slanderer, and putting him to the task of making out a case, even perfect innocence, and that which OF PRESUMPTION; OE, THE BURDEN OF PROOF. 157 Otherwise would appear so to all, might be blackened by suspicion. The great advantage that the side on which the presump- tion lies has over the opposite, consists in this, that it must triumph unless a decisive case is made out against it : — it has all the benefit of a doubtful result. If the course of procedure were reversed, and the criminal were required to prove his innocence instead of the government being re- quired to establish his guUt, few that are accused would prob- ably escape condemnation. As it is, a sUght shade of doubt as to the guilt, even although the probability is altogether against him, results for the benefit of the accused. The discussions that have arisen on the laws providing for the impMsonment of debtors, have exhibited most forcibly of how great advantage it is to be relieved from the arms prohandi. It has been strenuously insisted by some that the creditor should take all the burden of proof on himself, and make out a clear case of fraud, before compulsory process against the person of the debtor shall be issued. The ex- treme difficulty of proving fraud in many cases has led others to take the ground that a failure to pay an honest debt raises a presumption of fraud which the debtor may reasonably be held to remove by oath or evidence. It is obvious that the adoption of the one or the other of these principles would greatly affect the facility of enforcing the payment of debts. Here not only will the creditor or the debtor have the advantage of a doubtful case according as the presumption is on one side or the other, but the decision of this point will determine to a great extent on what kind of evidence the question of fraud shall turn — upon that which is in the possession of the creditor, or upon that in possession of the debtor. It will not unfrequently occur thus that the decision of the question wiU go one way or the other according as the evidence or proof is derived from this side or from that side ; and this is determined by the ques- tion, Where lies the presumption in the case ? 158 CONFIRMATION. Although it will generally be easy to determine on wliich side the burden of proof lies, it may be of service to lay down some general principles which regulate the determi- nation of this matter. § 163. The first general principle in regard to the burden of proof is, that the affirmative of every issue is to he proved. This is a principle in English jurisprudence derived from the maxim of the civil law : " JE^ incuwMt prohatio qui didt, non qui negate This is not, however, a principle of universal application, and must often give way to some others to be named in the following sections. In the interpretation of this principle it should be borne in mind that the stress is to be laid on the fact of alleging or affirming, not on the form of the proposition itself as affirm- ative or negative. The principle is. He who alleges must prove. If the allegation be in the negative form, it does not shift the burden of proof. The fundamental ground on which the principle rests is, that whatever is new shall be accounted for. He who makes an allegation puts into being a statement that did not exist before. He is properly called upon to account for it — prove it and thus make it a truth. § 164. The presumption, further, is generally in favor of what already exists and against a change, whether the question be one" of truth, of right, or of expediency. There is a presumption, thus, in favor of prevailing opin- ions and sentiments. They are not to be rejected until evidence has been advanced against them. Even such as seem at first sight absurd or ridiculous are sometimes found afterward to be founded in truth. The Indians living in the vicinity of the North American Lakes generally entertained the opinion that those lakes were subject to a periodical rise OF PRESUMPTION; OR, THE BURDEN OF PROOF. 159 and fall. This was ridiculed at one time as an absurd superstition ; subsequent observations, however, seem to countenance the Indian tradition. On the other hand, the proposer of new opinions may be justly called upon to present evidence in their favor ; and may be properly regarded as unworthy of credit until such evidence be produced. He cannot even claim that the public mind should be in a state of impartial equilibrium. His opinions must be rejected untU positive evidence be adduced. So, likewise, there is a presumption in favor of existing institutions ; — that they are founded -in truth and reason, and are for the public benefit. The fact that they exist cre- ates a claim in their favor, which cannot be overbalanced by evidence against them that would sufiice in a case exactly poised in the opinions of men. The reformer is required to make out a clear, positive case, before he can expect to be credited. In like manner, possession is presumptive title to property. In contests of title, accordingly, the burden of proof rests on the party that is not in possession. In case of uncontested occupancy for twenty years, under the Eng- lish law, the presumption was held to be so strong that that title could not be assailed by any proof. § 165. The presumption, moreover, is in favor of rectitude ; in other words, should be charitable. It is a reasonable principle in law, thus, that a man be accounted innocent of crime until he be proved guilty. A witness is to be believed, unless evidence is furnished of falsehood. A man's integrity, g'enerally, may not be ques- tioned until proof appears against him. His motives, also, are to be regarded as pure until impeached by positive evi- dence. This is a principle, not only supported by considerations of expediency, since the charitable man generally succeeds best in avoiding the ills and securing the enjoyments of life, but founded in abstract truth and reason. 160 CONFIKMATION. § 166. Once more, the presumption is on the side of whatever promotes the well-being of men, and against whatever is restrictive or injurious. There is a presumption, thus, in favor of Christianity, because it is favorable, as is admitted even by its enemies, to the best interests of human society. The presumption, on the other hand, lies against whatever retards the progress of society, restricts or confines the energies of men, or injuri- ously aflfects their best interests. The ultimate general principle on which these last particu- lar maxims of presumption rest, seems to be this : that the world is governed by infinite intelligence controlled by per- fect rectitude and goodness. In respect to this, the senti- ment is true, that " whatever is, is right " ; and the proper and the genuine results of goodness and truth harmonize with each other, and also with what, for the most part, trans- pires in Providence. In all cases of presumption, conse- quently, whatever accords with the natural laws of Provi- dence is to be presumed to be true, right, or expedient, as the case may be. ' § 167. One presumption may sometimes be opposed by another, when the circumstances of the case must determine which shall outweigh the other. Mohammedanism, thus, exists ; and so far a presumption lies in its favor. With those who know of nothing existing in incompatibility with it, and who are not informed or con- vinced in regard to its evil efiects, perhaps, this fact of its ex- istence would furnish a strong presumption in favor of con- tinuing it. But its allowance of violence, and its evil effects generally, are to those who are convinced of this, a suffi- cient rehutter against the presumption drawn from the fact of its existence. CHAPTER Vn. OP EEFUTATION. § 168. By refutation, in its more limited sense, is meant the overthrow of opposing arguments. Eefutation is sometimes taken in the sense of defense gen- erally. Thus the argument of the defendant in a judicial trial has been denominated a refutation. But in the more proper use of the word, refutation has been restricted to the overthrow of objections or opposing arguments. § 169. Refutation proper consists in the overthrow either of one of the premises on which an objection rests, or of the conclusiveness of the reasoning. While refutation is governed by the same general prin- ciples that apply to all argumentation, and has to do with the same arguments or kinds of proof, it possesses the pecu- liarity, that it is applied to the overthrow of opposing argu- ments. Hence, a more direct call is made in it on the logical principles for the detection of sophistical reasoning. The overthrow of a premise falsely or incorrectly assumed in an objection, may, indeed, be accomplished in other methods common to all reasoning ; but the detection of error in the course of the reasoning is to be effected in accordance with the principles of logic, which expose the possible modes of sophistical argumentation. § 17.0. As all evidence does not possess the charac- ter of ahsolute certainty, it is possible, in some cases, that there may be real evidence, or valid arguments, 11 162 CONFIRMATION. on both sides of tlie question. In such cases, it is not indispensably necessary to refute the opposing argu- ments ; but it may be sufficient, while allowing them their proper weight, to overbalance them with argu- ments of greater weight. This is a principle ever to be borne in mind, that, in cases of probable reasoning generally, arguments really valid may be advanced on both sides. The existence of such unan- swerable arguments should not confound or disconcert. The opposite side may. stiU be that of truth. In such case, it seems important to apply the principles of the Topics ; to determine carefiiUy the degree of weight to be allowed the objection, and to oppose to it an argument of a higher rank, or an accumulation of arguments of the same class. § 171. It is- always sound policy to state objections fairly, and to allow them all the force to which, they are entitled. Nothing is more opposed to persuasiveness in reasoning, than the appearance of unfairness. Sound principle was accordingly reckoned by the ancients among the three essen- tial requisites in the character of the orator. Where the speaker is to appear before the same audience frequently, or to address one acquainted with his character as a candid and honest reasoner, the necessity of observing this principle is manifest. And even where the general character of the speaker can have no influence in favorably disposing the minds of the hearers, still, as unfairness is with difficulty disguised, and even suspicion of it is exceedingly prejudicial ; as, moreover, the consciousness of candor and fairness will give the speaker himself a tone of confidence and authority, itself most favorable to effect, it is ever safest, as a matter of poUcy, to conduct the argumentation in perfect fairness. § 172. The principles of arrangement in regard to refutation are substantially the same as those which OF REFUTATION. 163 apply to direct confirmation, Chapter V. As subor- dinate and incidental to confirmation, however, the application of those principles to refutation becomes slightly modified. In the first place, if the arguments to be reflited are sufiiciently met in the main direct -arguments, the proper place to refute them is in the course of presen- tation of those direct arguments. In the next place, if the objections are independent of the direct chain of reasoning, they should be an- swered at the commencement, if already weighing in the minds of the audience ; and at the close, if they are anticipated as about to arise in the mind, or are to be presented by an adversary. CHAPTER vrn. OF THE INTKODUCTION AND PEEOEATION IN CONPIE- MATION. § 173. The Introduction Explanatory in confirma- tion may respect the proposition itself, the particular mode of discussion to be pursued, or some circum- stances connected with the occasion of speaking. It is unnecessary to particularize the several topics proper for an introduction explanatory in confirmation. It is suf- ficient to turn the attention of the speaker to those general fields of view which it may be important for him to survey, that he may ascertain what points will require elucidation in order to prepare the way for the ready apprehension of his discourse. § 174. The Introduction Conciliatory in confirma- tion will respect the person of the speaker and of the hearer, the character of the proposition, the mode of discussion, or the circumstances of speaking. § 175. The several points in reference to the person of the speaker, to which attention may need to be di- rected in conciliation, are the ijelation of the speaker to the audience, to his opponent, to the question to be discussed, and to the occasion of speaking. § 176. The three qualities requisite in the speaker in reference to the audience, as prescribed by the an- cients, are good sense, good principle, and good WILL. OF THE INTRODUCTION AND PERORATION, ETC. 165 Good sense is requisite, because an audience will deem itself insulted if a speaker presumes to come before it but ill-informed in regard to the matter to be discussed. The speaker, from his very ofl5.ce, professes his ability to enlighten and inform his audience. Neghgence to obtain a proper un- derstanding of the subject, shows at once a want of capacity to speak, or a high contempt of the audience. A character for integrity is necessary, inasmuch as just so far as the speaker shows himself unworthy of confidence, will every thing he says be received with misgivings and suspicions ; while the bare assertions of a reputedly honest man wUl often be received with the submission which is due to actual demonstration. If, further, the audience be convinced that the speaker is actuated by good-will to them, all the influence of the feel- ings over the movements of the intellect will be favorable to his designs. While general reputation or character in regard to these qualities wiU be most serviceable in effecting conciliation so far as it depends on them, the speaker may do much in removing an unfavorable impression from the minds of his hearers, or in producing one that is favorable, by his manner at the time. The character of his discourse, as marked by the particular features of intelligence, familiarity with the subject, gravity, modesty, pure moral sentiment ; by kind- ness, deference, and respect for his hearers, will conduce greatly to awaken a favotable disposition in them toward himself At the same time, indirect professions together with allusions to facts in his history which may present his character favorably in these respects, may be often benefi- cially employed. It is obvious that the same general means are to be made use of as well when an unfavorable disposition is to be set aside as when a favorable sentiment is to be awakened. § 177. The speaker's relation to his opponent will 166 CONFIRMATION. need to be regarded by tim, whenever the character of his opponent in respect to the three points before named may influence the mind of the hearer; and also, whenever the personal relation existing between them may favorably or unfavorably affect the disposi- tion of the hearer. Advantage, thus, may be taken of the character of the adversary as being ill-informed in the case, wanting in prin- ciple, or unkindly disposed to the hearers. Or the advan- tage which an opposite character may give an opponent wiU need to be set ^side or lessened by counter consider- ations. The personal relations subsisting between the speaker and his opponent will frequently affect the disposition of the hearers in reference to the discourse. To speak in opposi- tion to one closely alhed in any of the social relations of life, will create a favorable or unfavorable disposition in the minds of the hearers, according as it may appear to them to have been prompted by principle or by selfishness or malice. § 178. The speaker's relations to the subject of dis- cussion or to the side of the question "which he main- tains, also, may obviously present him to the audience favorably or otherwise ; in either case, they will de- mand his attention. Exemplifications of this kind of introduction are to be found in Demosthenes' Oration on the Crown, where he maintams his right to be heard as one equally interested with Ctesiphon in the issue of the trial ; in Cicero's Oration for Cluentius, against whom he had previously spoken with great severity ; and in Erskine's speech on the trial of Thomas Paine. § 179. Once more, the occasion of speaking will OF THE INTRODUCTION AND PERORATION, ETC. 167 often, in some relation which the speaker may bear to it, affect the minds of the hearers and render necessary suitable means of conciliation. - Cicero thus in his oration against Caecilius commences with an exposition of the reasons which induced him, who had never before appeared except in defense, now to become a prosecutor against Verres. § 180. The character of the proposition will de- mand a conciliatory introduction when either the sub- ject generally, or the particular view taken of it by the speaker at the time, is likely to be offensive to the hearers. The advantage which a speaker addressing those of his own party or sect, or generally those of the same principles with himself, on a topic of common interest to them, has over his opponents, must obviously be great ; and while it becomes him to turn this advantage to good account, it is still more necessary to his opponent to lessen, so far as practicable by any of the various means of conciliation, this prepossession against himself. In the famous Orations on the Crown, Demosthenes had to encounter the natural repugnance which men feel against hearing a man commend his own actions ; while ^schines labored under the conviction that the judges were of the party of his adversary. Each orator, accord- ingly, in his introduction, endeavored to lessen the diflSculty which he had in this respect to encounter. § 181. The mode of discussion imposed on the speaker may be such as to call for some effort at con- ciliation in the Introduction when it requires him to treat of topics offensive to the audience or to make use of terms or a course of reasoning not easily in- telligible to them. 168 CONFIRMATION. In Judicial Eloquence, thus, arguments embodying pure legal principles are generally uninviting and with difficulty intelligible teta jury ; and the advocate who would secure a favorable hearing, will need to use much address and art. So, purely metaphysical discussions on religious subjects be- fore a popular audience generally repel and offend. Men, moreover, are loath to hear of their own faults or weak- nesses ; and the speaker who is obliged to recur to them has reason to fear that, unless due precaution is taken, their un- willingness to hear will entirely prevent the intended effect of his discourse. § 182. In the same way, the circumstances in which the speaker appears before his audience may render them indisposed to a favorable hearing, in which case the arts of conciliation suitable to the case will be needfiil. The military array which Pompey had thrown around the tribunal on the trial of Milo so influenced the minds of the judges that Cicero felt it necessary, at the commencement of his oration, to allay their fears and turn to his own ac- count the influence of Pompey, which at first seemed to the judges to be arrayed against him. < § 183. Several of these varieties of Conciliatory In- troduction, it may often happen, must be combined in the same action. The speeches of Demosthenes on the Crown, and of Cicero in the case of Milo, alluded to above, are examples of the various combinations of these different kinds of in- troduction. § 184. Confirmation admits all the various kinds of Peroration enumerated in § 64. Recapitulation, more- over, will here be especially useftd. EXERCISES IN CONFIRMATION., 169 ExEKCiSES IN Confirmation. Prove the following propositions hy resolving their svhjects, or their predi^ cates, or both: — National prosperity depends on a pure morality. Geological science corroborates the Mosaic history of cre- ation. The press ought to be free. Free institutions must triumph in Europe. Labor is a blessing. Scientific culture is favorable to the arts. The fine arts are favorable to morality. Popular favor is precarious. Models are necessary to culture. Find a priori proofs of the following propositions: Rotation in ofiSce is expedient. Qames of chance are hurtful to character. There is more happiness in a civilized than in a savage state. Immigration should be encouraged in a new country. Genius is irritable. Levity of manners is hostile to virtue. Self-respect wins the respect of others. Relaxation is necessary. Bad manners make bad morals. Virtue is its own reward. Find a posteriori proofs of the following propositions : The work of creation was progressive. The feudal system was favorable to civilization. The human race was one in its origin. Aaron Burr was a traitor to his country. The book of Job was written before the time of Moses. The Epistle to the Hebrews was written by the Apostle Paul. 170 CONFIEMATION. The " Hiad " and the " Odyssey " were ccanposed by Homer. Warren Hastings was guilty of the charges brought against him by Burke. Brutus was a true patriot. The exodus of the Jews from Egypt was miraculous. Mohanuned was an impostor. Find examples as proofs qf the following proposi- tions : Populous cities are dangerous to national morality. Men of genius are deficient in conversational power. What is once known is never whoUy obliterated from the mind. Great diversity of pursuits is fatal to success. Knowledge is power. Necessity is the mother of invention. Conscience makes cowards of us all. Sumptuary laws are unwise. PART III. — EXCITATION. CHAPTEE L GENERAL INTKODtrCTOET VIEW. § 185. In Excitation the object of discourse is to move the feehngs, either by awakening some new af- fection, or by strengthening or allaying one already existing. The propriety of ranking excitation among the several objects of discourse, and of founding upon this object a dis- tinct species governed by its own laws and characterized by peculiar features, will hardly be questioned by any who rec- ognize the feelings or affections as a distinct class of mental phenomena. In fact, we find a class of discourses construct- ed in particular reference to this object, and distinguished from all others by peculiar characteristics. To this class belong most of what have been denominated demonstrative discourses, particularly those pronounced on funeral and tri- umphal occasions, in which the object is to awaken admira- tion, joy, grief, or other emotion. Here belongs, likewise, a considerable part of pulpit oratory, aamely, that part the object of which is to awaken or cherish some Christian afifec- tion or grace, or to allay or remove some improper passion in actual indulgence. That this object has not been distinctly recognized in sys- tems of general rhetoric as one of those which give specific character to discourse and furnish the gi-ounds of classifica- 172 EXCITATION. tion, is to be attributed mainly to the fact that in delibera- tive and judicial eloquence this can seldom if ever be pro- posed as a leading object, and such systems have been con- structed chiefly in reference to those departments of oratory. In forensic speaking, however, excitation often enters in a subordinate office ; and there continues subject to its own regulating principles, although modified somewhat by the controlling aim of such discourse. Indeed, as has been ob- served elsewhere, the various forms of oratory, as explana- tion, confirmation, excitation, and persuasion, often mingle together, each retaining its characteristic features in the same discourse ; while, still, it remains true that one or the other must in every case predominate and give character to the whole discourse, and the others be only subservient to this main design. § 186. The ■work of excitation is accomplished either by the appropriate presentation of the object of feeling merely, or by this combined vv^itb the power of sympathy. The ttvo departments of excitation are, accordingly, Pathetic Explanation and Employment of Sym- pathy. The feelings, like the intellect, belong to the spontaneities of the mind ; and are only indirectly controlled by the wUl. They move necessarily more or less on the presentation of their appropriate objects. They are, nevertheless, as phe- nomena of the same mind, subject to an influence from the will and the understanding, as well as from the general tone and habits of the mind. It will sometimes be necessary in excitation to prove a fact or truth. But this process is only incidental ; whereas explanation is the direct means of awakening feeling. § 187. The more general unity of the discourse in excitation will consist in the singleness of the theme ; GENERAL INTRODUCTORY VIEW. 173 the narrower unity, in the singleness of the feeling or affection to be addressed. It will be observed that the theme, as well as the feeling addressed, may be individual or generic, — may embrace a single object or feeling, or a class, of objects or of feelings. Generally, where the feeling to be excited is made the germ of development, the theme will embrace the several particu- lars addressed to the feeling. It is of importance to distinguish careftiUy between the theme and the feeling addressed in excitation. They are not unfrequently confoimded in popular discourse. We say, thus, in loose language, that the theme of a discourse, the design of which is to awaken hope, is the affection itself — hope. Properly speaking, this is the object of the discourse, while the theme embraces the considerations presented for the purpose of awakening the affection. § 188. The form of the discourse in excitation will vary according as the theme or the feeling addressed is made the germ of the development. If the* feeling addressed furnish the germ, the discourse will be more purely excitatory in its character ;■ if the theme, the discourse will have more of an explanatory form. In a pulpit discourse, thus, the passion of Jesus Christ might be exhibited as a single fact fitted to excite various emotions, as of gratitude, love, confidence. In this case the development of the discourse might naturally spring from the particular feelings addressed. They would constitute ac- cordingly the leading heads of the discourse. On the other hand, the same fact might be exhibited as bearing, in several distinct aspects, on a single emotion or grace of character. Then these several aspects of the fact might naturally furnish the ground of distribution and ar- rangement in the discourse. So in Panegyrics, sometimes, the character as one com- 174 EXCITATION. plex whole or a single feature is presented with the design of moYing the affections generally ; and sometimes a single affection is addressed by the exhibition of such traits as are adapted to awaken it. § 189. In excitation it is more necessary than in ex- planatory OS argumentative discourse to have regard to the feelings of those addressed ; since ignorance or mis- take here may occasion an entire failure in the very object of the discourse. § 190. The mind addressed may be either favorable or unfavorable or indifferent in respect to the object of the speaker. If the mind be favorable or indifferent, the object may be directly presented with exhibitions of feeling corresponding in degree to the state of feeling in the hearer. § 191. If the^ mind addressed be influenced by a feeling opposed to that which the speaker desires to awaken, great caution is necessary in undertaking to remove it, as a direct opposition will generally only irritate or inflame it the more. The allaying of such unfavorable feeHng may be accomplished indirectly by first exhibiting such views of the object as will not so directly oppose the existing state of feeling, and then, as interest shall be awakened, by passing gradually to other views more favorable to the object of the speaker. Or other feelings, in their nature incompatible with those to be allayed, and yet not directly opposed to them, may be awakened, and thus the unfavorable feel- ings be displaced. The speeches of Antony in the " Julius Caesar " of Shakes- GENERAL INTEODUCTOKY VIEW. 175 peare flimish fine exemplifications of the first of these meth- ods of allaying an unfavorable state of feeling. Antony finds the populace triumphing over the death of Caesar and cheering the conspirators. He does not at once present him- self in opposition. He appears, at first, as the Mend of Bru- tus. He disclaims all intentions of praising Caesar. He thus gets their attention, fixes it on Caesar, and then proceeding to speak of his faults, gradually passes to defend his charac- ter, at the same time mingling in high professions of respect for the conspirators, till finally, the rage of the hearers at Caesar's usurpations and tyranny having been allayed, he presents the proper matter for turning their feelings in the opposite direction, and leaves them clamoring furiously for the destruction of aU Caesar's enemies. In Brutus's speech just preceding, the second of the meth- ods indicated is exemplified, and the love of the populace for Caesar is artfully displaced by their love to their country ; a sentiment, as here exhibited, hicompatible with attachment to Caesar. CHAPTER n. OF THE THEME IN EXCITATION. § 192. As the theme in excitation is a notion or a conception, it must ever appear under that form. If, consequently, a judgment — a fact or truth-:- be presented as the object in reference to which the feel- ings are to be excited, it will appear in the form of a clause, and not in that of a principal sentence. Generally language will allow the expression of a fact or truth, when used as a theme, in discourse, either in the form of a verb or of a noun. We may equally represent the theme, " the death' of Christ," under this form or under the form, " that Christ died." The latter form turns the mind more directly and unequivocally on the fact as an actual oc- currence ; and, when this is desired, this form is preferable to the other. It is of advantage to represent the theme in its appropri- ate form; as, otherwise, the mind might- unconsciously be drawn off to a proof of the fact or truth instead of a simple exhibition of it for the purpose of exciting feeling. § 193. The theme, in excitation, further, must em- brace the object of the feeling addressed, or the views which are fitted to awaken the feeling. Although men may, possibly, be excited to a blind passion, so to speak, that is, be aroused by sympathy or otherwise in reference to no distinctly apprehended object, it can yet never be regarded as a proper aim of rational discourse to OF THE THEME IN EXCITATION. 177 produce such unintelligent excitement. It is true, indeed, that the passions never move, except as addressed through the intellect, and even in the ravings of a mob there is some intelligence ; still rational discourse will not be con- tented with this, but will ever aim to present distinctly the particular object in reference to which the feelings are to be moved. § 194. The general principle that governs in regard to the statement of the proposition in excitation is this : that clearness of apprehension and impressiveness re- quire the statement, unless reasons are seen to exist which forbid. The question has been much agitated, whether it be proper at all to avow beforehand addresses to the feelings. Some' writers have disapproved of all such avowals alto- gether. " The first and most important point to be observed in every address to any passion, sentiment, feeling," etc., says Dr. Whately, " is that it should not be introduced as such, and plainly avowed ; otherwise the effect will be, in great measure if not entirely, lost. . . . When engaged in reason- iugj properly so called, our purpose not only need not be con- cealed, but may, without prejudice to the effect, be distinctly declared ; on the other hand, even when the feelings we wish to excite are such as ought to operate, so that there is no reason to be ashamed of the endeavor thus to influence the hearers, stUl, our purpose and drift should be, if not absolutely concealed, yet not openly declared and made prominent." Even when the sentiments to be awakened are recognized as proper and right, he thinks " men are not likely to be pleased with the idea that they are not already sufficiently under the influence of such sentiments," and " cannot but feel a degree of mortification in making the confession, and a kind of jeal- ousy of the apparent assumption of superiority, in a speaker, who seems to say, ' Now I will exhort you to feel as you ought on this occasion ; I will endeavor to inspire you with 12 178 EXCITATION. such noble and generous and amiable sentiments as you ought to entertain.' " It must be admitted that such avowals of intention are to be rejected on every principle of correct taste. But it is difficidt to see in what respect they are more faulty than pre- cisely similar avowals of intention in pure argumentative or explanatory discourse ; as " I wiU instruct you to think in accordance with truth on this subject ; " " I wiU endeavor to. convince you of the truth on this question.'' The whole force of the objection lies not against the thing itself — the statement of the theme and object of the discourse — but against an improper ybr?ra of stating it. It certainly cannot be laid down as a universal rule that, in an address to the feelings, it must ever be wrong to state the object in respect to which the feelings are to be moved. That in pronouncing a eulogy it would be improper fo'r the speaker to inform the audience, at the outset, of the subject of the eulogy in reference to which their feelings of admira- tion are to be excited ; that in endeavoring to inspire senti- ments of confidence and courage it would be improper for a statesman to mention beforehand those circumstances and facts which warrant confidence and tend to awaken courage ; that in seeking to strengthen the sentiment of Christian grat- itude for the blessings of the gospel, it would be improper for the preacher distinctly to propose the richness or the freeness of those blessings in reference to which the senti- ments of gratitude are to be called forth, no one surely can maintain. How can it appear more improper to add, also, that the particular subject is to be presented \vith a view to awaken suitable feelings of admiration, confidence, or gratitude, etc. — in other words, to state the design of the discourse ? What impropriety can there be in a Christian preacher's distinctly stating that he proposes the gift of Jesus Christ to men as a ground and reason of gratitude to Grod ? Who will venture to reprehend the following statement of Demos- OF TUE THEME IN EXCITATION. 179 thenes in his second Philippic : " First, then, Athenians, if there be a man who feels no apprehension at the view of Philip's power, and the extent of his conquests, who imag- ines that these portend no design to the state, or that his designs are not all aimed against you, I am amazed ! and must entreat the attention of you all while I explain those reasons briefly which induce me to entertain different expec- tations." It is diiEcult to perceive on what different ground ad- dresses to the feelings stand in this respect from addresses to the understanding or reason. Wbile in both kinds of address, it may be unadvisable in some cases to state the theme before- hand, and while propriety is ever to be observed in the man- ner of statement, it cannot, any more in one kind than in the other, be laid down as a universal principle that such state- ments should be avoided. In both kinds, the speaker must consult the relation of the theme to the supposed state of feeling in his audience, and by that determine as to the ex- pediency of distinctly presenting or of withholding it. § 195. If, however, the theme itself is likely to give offense, then it may, in part or in whole, be kept back till interest is awakened and a favorable dispositipn on the part of the hearers secured. § 196. If the theme be not likely to give offense but the feelings already entertained by the hearers in regard to it are opposed to the speaker's aim, the theme may be stated, but the particular object in presenting it suppressed. This rule is exemplified m the speech of Antony before alluded to, § 191. § 197. It may be well, moreover, for the sake of variety, especially in a speaker who is called frequently to address the same audience, occasionally to deviate from the general rule. CHAPTER m. OP PATHETIC EXPLANATION. § 198. The exhibition of feeling in excitation is governed by the general principles of 6:^lanatory dis- course, but is modified by the particular design in this species of discourse of moving the feelings. It is ef- fected by any of the various processes of explanation. As the ultimate aim in excitation is not to enlighten or in- form the understanding, but this is done only for the sake of exciting the feelings, the process of explanation will need here to be carried on in a somewhat different manner from that appropriate to purely explanatory discourse. The prin- cipal modifications which this difference in the ultimate aim of the^scourse will require, wiU be specified in the follow- ing sections. § 199. As an accurate acquaintance with the object embraced in the theme is not the particular aim in excitation, the first modification of the general princi- ples of explanation demanded here is, that mly those points or features in the olject he selected which are adapted to the feelings or sentiments to be awakened. Some regard must be had, in applying this principle of pathetic explanation, to the design of the discourse, — ^whether it be 'to produce an immediate and temporary effect, or to excite and confirm a permanent and controlling sentiment. If the latter, then care must be taken to communicate such a view of the object as will be retained in the memory, and OF PATHETIC EXPLANATION. 181 thus be long present to influence the feelings. In other words, the explanation must be more full and complete, and conform more closely to the general principles of explana- tory discourse. Thus, that kind of preaching which gives clear, fiill, and rational exhibitions of religious truth, will be better adapted to secure a permanent high degree of Christian feeling than that which, by selecting only the more striking views, aims at the highest degree of excitement at the mo- ment. The speech of Antony may be again cited here as afford- ing a happy exemplification of this principle in producing a higher immediate excitement. In exhibiting the character of Csesar, he only selects those features which were adapted to stir up a strong passionate regret for his death, and a stormy indignation against the conspirators. , He artfully alludes to his public largesses, his sympathy with the poor, his rejection of the proffered diadem, and especially to his love of the people as shown in his wiU. § 200. A second rule in Pathetic Explanation is, that particular rather than general views be taken of the object. As vivid rather than correct impressions are aimed at in excitation, the process of explanation will need to be modi- fied so far as to secure those strong and lively apprehensions which are necessary to deep emotion. § 201. Thirdly, Pathetic Explanation requires that the more prominent and striking features and outlines be presented ; while such as are less easily appre- hended, however important in an accurate represen- tation to the understanding merely, are dropped from view. The following extract from Sheridan's Invective against "Warren Hastings will serve to exemplify this rule. The 182 EXCITATION. orator, instead of going through an orderly detail of the suf- ferings of the oppressed nations of India, merely presents one or two of the most prominent features in the scene of desolation and horror. " When we hear the description of the paroxysm, fever, and delirium into which despair had thrown the natives, when, on the banks of the polluted Ganges, panting for death, they tore more widely open the lips of their gaping wounds, to accelerate their dissolution, and, while their blood was issuing, presented their ghastly eyes to heaven, breathing their last and fervent prayer, that the dry earth might not be suffered to drink their blood, but that it might rise up to the throne of God, and rouse the eternal Providence to avenge the wrongs of their country, will it be said that this was brought about by the incanta- tions of these JBegums in their secluded Zenana ? " § 202. Fourthly, instead of the clear and distinct exhibitions which are proper in mere addresses to the understanding, it is often conducive to passionate im- pressiveness to leave something to the imagination of the hearers, by only obscure and imperfect delinea- tions. Antony, instead of at once telling the citizens how much Csesar in his wiU had ordered to be distributed among the people, set their imaginations all on fire by only vague and obscure intimations of the richness of the legacy. The aid of the imagination in heightening the effect of passionate representation is likewise employed when, instead of the object of feeling itself, something connected with it — as causes, effects, results and the hke — is presented, and from that the hearers are left to conjecture the real character of the object. It should be observed here, that there is com- bined with this appeal to the imagination to aid the effect, a figure of speech. The speaker seems to shrink, as feeling himself inadequate to the task, from the direct exhibition of the object. The terrors of the desolation caused by the OF PATHETIC EXPLANATION. 183 irruption of Hyder Ali could hardly be more vividly repre- sented than they were by Burke in simply pointing to a single result. " When," he says, " the British armies trav- ersed as they did the Carnatic for hundreds of mUes-in all directions, through the whole line of their march they did not see one man, not one woman, not on&'child, not one four- footed beast of any description whatever." CHAPTEE IV. OP THE EMPLOYMENT OF SYMPATHY IN EXCITATION. § 203. It is indispensable in excitation that the speaker himself appear to be affected in the same way in which he wishes his audience to be affected, and, likewise, to a degree at least as high. This is a principle everywhere recognized. The lines of Horace are familiar to aU : — " Ut ridentibus arrident, ita flentibiis adsunt Human! vultus. Si vis me flere, dolendum est Primum ipsi tibi." Emotion is necessary in the speaker not only because the absence of it would render aU efforts to excite feeling in the audience futile ; but because, from the law of sympathy, emotion is communicated directly from one bosom to another. Shakespeare had a just conception of human nature when he put the following words into the hps of Antony : — " Passion, I see, is catching ; for mine eyes, Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine, Began to water." In all pathetic discourse, the speaker must manifest the suitable kind and degree of feeling in all the possible modes of expressing it ; in the form of the thought, the language, the voice, countenance, and gesture. To secure this, he must feel himself. Hypocritical expressions of feeling wiU seldom escape detection. The human breast instinctively discerns between true and false emotion. Even trained stage-actors, when they succeed perfectly in their art, are infected them- OF THE EMPLOYMENT OF SYMPATHY. 185 selves by the passion the contagion of which they wish to extend to the spectators. For the time they feel as if they were in reality the characters they personate. They ac- complish this, perhaps the most difficult attainment of their art, by a close and thorough study of the causes of feeling supposed to operate in the scene which they represent. Mere natural sensibility, although not indispensable, is not enough. The heart, by close contemplation, must be brought into con- tact with the object of feeling. The speaker and the writer need equally to kindle the fire of feeling in themselves by long and close contemplation of the truth to be expressed in the discourse. § 204. The modes of expressing passion in discourse are direct or indirect. In the direct exhibition of feeling the speaker allows the passion to appear in its own natural form and way. § 205. In the indirect expression of passion, the speaker, instead of giving vent to his emotions in the natural ways of expression, and making a free exhibi- tion of them, veils them in part and only suffers occa- sional glimpses of them to be seen. In this indirect expression of feeling, the power of imagi- nation is called in aid, see § 202. Thfe hearers observe, by the gleams through the disguise here and there, a fire of passion in glow ; but obtaining no definite determination of the extent and degree, it appears to them the more deep and strong ; as the outlines of objects seen in the mist being indeterminate, the imagination easily swells them into mon- sters. Such partial eruptions of passion are common in real life, and often impress more deeply than the pure and un- suppressed overflow of feeling. The mourner in public, observing the proprieties of conduct, who only allows a broken sob to escape her, moves the heart of sympathy more deeply than do even continued and unchecked wailings and 186 EXCITATIOlir. loud lamentations. The maniac duelist, who would break suddenly away from any pursuit he was engaged in, as if forced by some demon of passion, and, pacing off a certain distance on the floor, repeat the significant words, " One, two, three, fire ; he 's dead ! " then wring his hands and turn abruptly to his former pursuits, gave a more touching exhibi- tion of the deep agony which was ever preying on his spirit, than if he had vented it in constant howUngs of remorse. It is with that admirable insight into Nature and conformity to truth which has before been noticed, that Shakespeare thus makes Antony give but occasional signs of grief for Caesar's death. While generally the passion is suppressed, now and then it seems to force itself out ; and this very circumstance, that it seems forced, makes it appear stronger and deeper. Thus he apologizes for any escape of sorrow, and tells the citizens that he cannot properly allow the true and adequate expression of his feelings. " Bear with me ; My heart is in the coflin there with Csesar ; And I must pause till it come back to me." "0 masters ! if I were disposed to stir Tour hearts and minds to mutiny and rage, I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong, Who, you all know, are honorable men : I will not do them wrong ; I rather choose To wrong the dead, to wrong myself and you, Thau I will wrong such honorable men." This partial disguising of passion on the part of the speaker .has this further advantage, that the determination being left to the imagination of the hearer, it can never seem to the latter disproportionate — either too weak or too strong. § 206. The degree of feeling expressed, by the speaker must ever be moderated in reference to the supposed feelings of the hearer. Unless there may appear to the audience a probable cause OF THE EMPLOYMENT OF SYMPATHY. 187 of strong feeling, as was the case in the first Oration of Cicero against Catiline, the speaker should commence with only a moderate degree of passion ; and should suffer it to increase only in proportion as it may seem natural to the audience. He must of course ever keep in advance of them ; but must take care never to get beyond the reach of their sympathy. The effect of this will be not only to annihilate the whole power of sympathy, but also to occasion dissatis- faction and disgust. CHAPTER V. OF THE INTEODUCTION AND PEKOEATION Df EXCITATION. § 207. Excitation admits both kinds of Introduc- tion ; the Explanatory and the Conciliatory. In reference to the management of the Introduction Ex- planatory see §§ 113, 173. The Introduction Concihatory will require ia pathetic dis- course peculiar attention and care, as it is more important here than in explanation or confirmation to secure a favora- ble disposition toward the speaker on the part of the hear- ers. Where, especially, either the speaker is himself per- sonally repulsive to them, or his subject offensive, or the sentiment which he would awaken incompatible with their present feelings and views, he has need to make the best use of his power and skill. The laws which govern pathetic discourse generally wiU come in also to regulate and modify the Introduction, and especially when it is of the conciliatory kind. § 208. Excitation admits only the excitatory or pcv- thetio, and the persuasive forms of peroration, with the recapitulation. The explanatory and confirmatory forms of peroration are inadmissible here, because addresses to the pure intellect can never properly come after an address to the feehngs. Cer- tainly, to close a discourse the object and aim of which is to awaken a certain kind or degree of feeling with cold intel- lectual inferences or remarks, is to defeat the very design of the discourse. Even the form of recapitulation, when intro- OF THE INTRODUCTION AND PERORATION. 189 duced, must conform to the peculiar principles of pathetic dis- course ; and wiU differ somewhat from that appropriate to ezplanation or confirmation. The aim of the peroration here must be to make a more direct or specific application of the subject to the feelings addressed ; or to make the excite- ment of feelings effected in the discourse as its main object conducive to some action of the will. Exercises in Excitation. Find, in the follow- ing themes, considerations or grounds for the fedings named : — Gratitude to a favoring Providence, in the history of our country. Commiseration, in the subjugation of the Poles. Hope, in the deliverances of the nation from past dangers. Equanimity, in the fact of a universal Providence. Admiration, in the heroism of WiUiam Tell. Fear, in the downward tendencies of vicious indulgence. Patriotism, in the condition and prospects of our country. Generosity, in the comparative happiness of our lot. Cheerfulness, in the abundance and richness of our bless- ings. Forgiveness, in the consciousness of our own failings. Candor, in the esteem and confidence it wins from others. PART IV. — PERSUASION. CHAPTEE I. GENEBAI. DfTEODUCTOKT VIEW. § 209. In Persuasion, the object of discourse is to move the will, either by leading it to a new act or pur- pose, or by dissuading it from one already adopted. Persuasive discourse is, in this, clearly and definitely dis- tinguished from the species already considered. Explana- tory discourse respects as its end a new notion or conception ; Confirmatory, a new conviction ; Pathetic, a new feeling ; Persuasive, a new action or purpose. This classification, evidently, coversthe field. If there are any other species of discourse, founded on the immediate object to be accom- plished in the miad addressed, it must be a subdivision 61 one of those enumerated ; unless, indeed, mental science reveal new classes of phenomena in the miud of man not included in those of the Intellect, the Sensibilities, and the WUl. § 210. As the mind addressed may be in either one of three different states — may be already decided in purpose but may need confirmation, or although de- cided, may be decided in the opposite direction, or with- out any choice, or voluntary preference in regard to the subject — the specific objects of the discourse will vary in different cases, and the discourse be modified in reference to these different specific ends. GENEBAL INTRODUCTOKY VIEW. 191 Persuasion, thus, differs specifically from dissuasion, as well as from encouragement or animation; although the general means to be employed are the same in the different cases. The difference in the specific processes will consist mainly in the arrangement and means of conciliating and explaining. § 211. The specific objects of persuasive discourse admit of a still further division in reference to the char- acter of the action proposed; whether an individual act or a controlling purpose — a determination to do a particular thing or the adoption of a principle of con- duct having respect to a series of acts or a course of life. Hence will arise another specific diversity in the conduct of the discourse. When a permanent state of will is aimed at, it is evident, those considerations are to have the pre- eminence which will remain in the mind, — in other words, truths addressed to the understanding or reason. Where, on the other hand, the object of the discourse is to produce a merely temporary effect, as that of a general exhorting his soldiers on the eve of a battle, those motives which respect more directly the feelings as the immediate incentives to action, will have the preference. It will often be the case that both objects vrill be com* bined ; that the speaker will aim to bring his hearers not only to adopt a general .course of conduct or pursuit, but also to commit themselves to it at the moment by some par- ticular act. The temperance reformers, thus, in seeking to induce and secure a permanent reform, press the inebriate to an immediate committal by some particular act, as signing a pledge or the like. In this case, the principles of conduct will need to be unfolded clearly and convincingly to the un- derstanding, and, also, excitingly to the feelings. § 212. The work of persuasion is effected by the 192 PERSUASION. EXHIBITION OF THE ACTION OR COTJKSE tO be chosen, and THE PRESENTATION OF MOTIVES fitted to incite to the determination proposed. The work of persuasion, thus, admits all the processes be- fore described of explanation, conviction, and excitation. The act to be done will often need to be explained. The Christian preacher will need, thus, in order to make his ex- hortation effectual, to explain the nature of the duty pro- posed, as faith, repentance, and the like. The statesman will likewise need to unfold the course of policy he desires to be adopted to the clear apprehension of his hearers, as a fail- ure to understand what is to be done must so far be an in- superable obstacle to decision. The process of explanation will also often be requisite in the presentation of motives. It may be necessary, moreover, to convince the judgment in persuasion. The action proposed must be shown to be pra,cticable, or the motives presented to be true and real and pertinent. Excitation, once more, is often requisite in persuasion, as the passions are the more immediate springs of action. All these processes, however, receive a slight modification in reference to the ultimate end of persuasion, and must be introduced only in entire subserviency to that end — the moving of the wUl. § 213. The theme in persuasion is ever a conception •which embraces the action or course proposed. § 214. The more general unity of persuasive dis- course consists in the singleness of the theme ; the narrower unity, in the singleness of the motive or class of motives addressed to the various activities of the hearer. CHAPTER n. OF THE THEME IN PERSUASION. § 215. The Theme in persuasive discourse being ever a conception, it must always be apprehended un- der that form. As the discourse will vary specifically in its form accord- ing as the motive or the action be made the germ of devel- opment, it becomes importarit that the speaker settle defi- nitely in his own mind beforehand which shall preside over the arrangement and development, and govern himself by the decision in the whole conduct of the discourse. § 216. The question, whether the proposition should be stated, is to be determined by the same general principles which govern in the other species of dis- course. The general rule is that it should be stated unless positive reasons be seen to exist against it. If the general theme of the discourse be supposed likely to give offense, the definite statement may be deferred to the end, or be gradually unfolded in the progress of the discourse, as the minds of the hearers may be prepared for it. A variation from the usual method of proceeding in this case, may be justified sometimes, moreover, for the sake of variety, or on other similar grounds. 13 194 PERSUASION. It is unnecessary to detail at any further length the diverse applications of these general principles according as the mo- tive or the action itself is made the principle of development ia the discourse. CHAPTER m. OF PEKSUASIVE EXPLANATION, CONFIBMATION, AND EXCI- TATION. § 217. In Persuasive Discourse, the various processes of explanation may be requisite either to set forth the proper theme of the discourse or the motives presented. § 218. In explanation applied to the motives, the application of the principles of explanation proper must be modified so far as -may be necessary in order to exhibit them merely as grounds, or reasons, or in- ducements to action ; that is, merely as motives. Hence an object or truth presented as a motive will not necessarily be surveyed in its whole extent. Only those as- pects will be taken of it which bear directly on the action proposed ; and of these, while at the same time false im- pressions in regard to the state of the case are to.be guarded against, only such should be presented as are favorable to the speaker's object. Great art and practiced judgment are often requisite here. Exemplifications of these methods of modifying the princi- ples of explanation proper are furnished in the orations of Demosthenes against PhiUp. The orator in them with great skill seizes hold of those particulars in the relations of the Athenians to the Macedonian power, and in the condition of Athens, which were fitted to inspire the Athenians with con- fidence in their own strength, and with contempt and resent- ment toward Philip, that he might thus incite them to a vigorous and efficient maintenance of hostilities. The ex- 196 PERSUASION. planations that are given, whether narrations of events or descriptions of places, of resources, etc., are all made from this one point of view, and are colored throughout by this one persuasive character. Nothing is said that does not bear directly on this single end ; nothing is omitted that could promote it. The processes of explanation, it is however pertinent to observe here, are all very different from what would be proper in a purely explanatory discourse ; very different, for example, from what ate found in the histories of those times. It should be remarked, in this connection, that it will fre- quently be necessary to construct the explanation in persua- sive discourse in reference both to the motives and the ac- tion, as possibly the nature of the action may best be un- derstood from a clear view of the motives. § 219. The explanation of the particular action urged in the discourse will conform more closely to the general principles of explanation ; since, generally, it will be needful to unfold the nature of the action or course proposed more or less fully and distinctly. § 220. Confirmation enters into persuasive discourse whenever it is necessary to prove any allegation in reference to the theme, the practicability of the action proposed, or the connection between the motives and the action. Like explanation, in persuasive discourse, confirmation suffers important modifications. It is not necessary to point out in particular detail the mod- ifications which confirmation proper receives in persuasion. It is sufficient to remark generally that the whole work of confirmation here is regulated by a strict regard to the great object of the discourse, which is to move the wUl. Fine ex- emplifications of persuasive confirmation may be found in many of the political orations of Demosthenes, and the OF PERSUASIVE EXCITATION. 197 speeches of Lord Chatham, Burke, Sheridan, and Patrick Henry. § 221. Excitation is necessary in persuasive dis- course so far as the excitement of the feelings is re- lied upon for influencing the will. Like explanation and confirmation, however, it is modified in important features in respect to the particular end of persuasion. Only such feelings are to be awakened, and those to such degrees only, as are fitted to lead to the action desired. It is important to be borne in mind in persuasive excita- tion, that the same object may awaken two or more different kinds of feelings, some of which may be favorable to the end proposed, and others adverse. Thus the increase of the Macedonian power, the multiplicity of its conquests and alli- ances, were fitted to excite the fear as well as the resentment of the Athenians. It was necessary, therefore, that the orator, Whose design was to arouse the Athenians to a bold and vigorous prosecution of the war against Philip, should give only such a view of Philip's successes as would excite indig- nation and not desponding alarm. The orator is careful, accordingly, to attribute all these successes to fortune and to the supineness of the Athenians, artfully keeping back those causes of his prosperity which might awaken terror, and thereby dispose the Athenians to an inglorious peace. CHAPTER IV. OF MOTIVES. § 222. By a Motive is meant whatever occasions or induces free action in man. In strictness, motives are conditions on which the free self-activity is called forth in some one or other of its various specific forms. Mind is in its essential nature active ; but the determination of its activity is through some object pre- sented to it. When it is determined in its action by any ob- ject thus presented to it, such object is a motive — it deter- mines the mind in this or that direction, it moves the mind in this way or that. Whatever object thus moves it or deter- mines it, must respect some one or more of the various ten- dencies, proclivities, of the mind. A motive, accordingly, is that which arouses or animates or depresses any such ten- dency. These various tendencies, proclivities, these specific springs or principles of action which motives respect, are of various distinguishable kinds. We have, first, the two kinds of activity distinguished; 1, as that which is general and constitutional under the law of habit ; and 2, those which are specific in reference to particular ends and objects. Specific activities are further distinguished ; (1) as animal ; and (2) as spiritual. Spiritual activities are still further distinguished ; (1) as to ultimate objects or ends ; (2) as to adjuncts which may be either antecedent as means and conditions of attaining these ultimate ends, or consequent as the results and conse- quences. And once more, besides these, which are all abso- lute and irrelative as it respects degree, there are those which OF MOTIVES. 199 respect comparative degree or extent. We have therefore sis glasses of motives, distributed in reference to the activi- ties or proclivities in the nature of man, general or specific, simple or comparative. They all have their subdivisions ; particularly is it worthy of distinct remark, they are each sub- divided into the positive and negative in the different forms of good and bad, more and less, etc. The six great fields dis- tributed in respect to the activity addressed in which motives are to be sought, accordingly, are (1) The general activity under the law of habit in man's nature ; (2) animal instincts ; (3) spiritual aspirations and tendencies ; (4) pursuit of means and conditions ; (5) pursuit of results and consequences ; and (6) love of superiority and its opposite. § 223. The first class of motives in respect of activ- ity addressed, embraces (1) those which are addressed to the general activity of the mind ; and (2) those ad- dressed to its acquired habits. It is sufficient often simply to propose something to be done. In its discontented restlessness, jits dissatisfaction with tilings or events, its ennui, the mind is often ready to adopt any thing, any act, any measure, any course, any policy ; and the skillful orator in persuasion has only to ascertain the par- ticular sphere of its discontent, and. whatever may be the course he may open, he may calculate on its being adopted. The mind moves, moreover, with readiness in the channel of its habitual activity. Hence the importance of the speak- er's informing himself of the habits of those whom he ad- dresses, as he may reasonably expect that so far as he can enlist them his success is more sure and complete. § 224. The second class of motives indicated, the animal instincts, comprises those which address the love of life and of health, and the several appetites. Here as elsewhere are to be recognized the positive and the negative — those which promote life and health and 200 PERSUASION. gratify appetite, and those which are of the opposite charac- ter. In this field lie also those which are to be addr^sed to acquired and perverted as weU as to constitutional ap- petites. § 225. The third class of motives, spiritual aspi- rations and tendencies, embraces those which respect the True, the Beautiful, and the Good, — the ultimate ends of pursuit. In this class are to be found those which address the desire of knowledge — the active principle of curiosity, and the principle of communicativeness. This last principle, of great power and extent, Guizot well recognizes when he remarks that if a man makes a mental acjvance, some mental discovery, if he acquires some new idea, the desire takes pos- session of him at the very moment he makes it, to promul- gate and publish his thought. Here are also to be found the love of the Beautiful, as object, and the strong principle of artistic endeavor, — the impulses of creative 'genius, often so irrepressible and so inextinguishable. Moreover, in this class are comprised the love of the Right and of the Good ; the active principle of henejicence ; and, still agaiu, the desire tfiat the Right be done and maintained, including the principles of anger, resentment, revenge. § 226. The fourth class of motives embraces the desires for means and conditions of the higher ultimate ends just enumerated, as the desire of wealth, of station, social position, friendship. § 227. The fifth class of motives, which respect re- sults and consequences attending the ultimate ends of pursuit, includes those which appeal to self-complacency, pride, shame, remorse ; to the love of esteem, of fame, glory, and the fear of disesteem, reproach, disgrace; OF MOTIVES. 201 to the hopes and fears of the divine favor or displeasure, and of consequent providential good and evil. The subdivisions of this class of motives will be readily recognized as grounded on the relations of our conduct and experience to ourselves, our fellows, or our Creator, as sym- pathizing and rewarding observers. We desire the approval of our own consciences, we dread shame and remorse ; we equally seek the favorable opinion and regards of our fellow- men. " A good name is rather to be chosen than riches." The love of adulation, of undeserved commendation, honor, or favor, is a perverted form of this constitutional tendency. So, likewise, the desire of the divine approval and favor, the hopes of' good, and the fears of evil that come in the flow of his Providence, are~ powerful impulses of our nature, which may be appropriately addressed by motives. § 228. The sixth class of motives embraces those ■which are founded on comparative attainment of ends, which appeal to the love of superiority, of eminence, above our fellovrs, and includes emulation and the per- verted forms of this principle of our nature, jealousy and envy. § 229. Motives admit of a gradation in strength either in respect of their own essential purity and ex- cellence, or in respect of the condition of the mind addressed by them. Motives that concern more nearly spiritual interests out rank those which respect only our animal nature and con- dition ; and tendencies to ends outrank those to means and conditions. Those which address legitimate constitutional tendencies are higher than those which address perverted or immoderate habits or propensities. The love of the purely right and good is a higher principle than the love of knowl- edge. Properly base motives are excluded from the sphere of aU true oratory. 202 PERSUASION. The strength of a motive may also be estimated in refer- ence to the particular character or condition of the mind addressed. The purely virtuous man can be influenced by considerations that would be utterly lost on the unprincipled and depraved. One activity, one proclivity, is predomi- nant in the same individual to-day, another to-morrow. The political community is moving at one time in one direction, at another time in quite a different, perhaps opposite direc- tion. The same religious association as a whole, is at one time excessively active or inert in relation to this, at another in relation to that department of Christian living. These different gradations suggest the following rules or guiding principles for the selection of motives. § 230. In selecting motives the following principles should guide : — First, the higher in their own purity and excellence are ever to be preferred; and when lower are to be employed, it is better even for oratorical effect and suc- cess to subordinate them to the higher, and as far as may be embody them in the higher. Secondly, the more numerous the assembly addressed, the more freely may the higher motives be urged, since the higher are the more universal. Thirdly, the specific tendencies of the minds ad- dressed should be carefully explored as far as may be, and the selection of motives be ever determined in ref- erence to them. .CHAPTER V. OP SPECIFIC ACTS OF PERSUASION. § 231. While the term Persuasion is applied in its more general import to all those kinds of discourse the object of which is to move the will, in its narrower sense it is distinguished from both Dissuasion and In- citement. As thus distinguished, persuasion, in its more re- stricted sense, will regard the production of a new pur- pose or act ; Dissuasion, the removal of a purpose or act; already determined upon ; Incitement, confirmation of a purpose or course already adopted. § 232. Although these several acts of persuasion are effected by the general processes naentioned, of exhibi- tion of the act or course to be adopted and the presen- tation of suitable motives, yet these processes will be considerably modified in reference to these several more specific ends. CHAPTEE VI., OF AKEANGEMENT IN PEESUASION. § 233, The principles of arrangement in persuasion will vary according as the motives or the action pro- posed is made the leading principle in the development of the discourse. It is obvious that a speaker in persuasion may make the action to which he wishes to incite his hearers the proper . germ of development in his discourse, which he may exhibit either in its various parts or its relations. In this case, the arrangertjent wiU be for the most part conformed to the prin- ciples of explanatory arrangement. The action will be ex- hibited in its parts, and the motives applied to each in suc- cession. On the other hand, it may be better in some cases, and per- haps generally, to make the motives the principle of develop- ment and arrangement. When this is done, the rules stated in the following sections are to guide. § 234. In the presentation of motives in persuasive discourse, three things are to be regarded : — First, the specific object of the discourse, wliether persuasion in its strict sense, dissuasion, or incitement ; Secondly, the comparative strength of the motives estimated in reference to the mind addressed ; Thirdly, the relation of the motives to one another. § 235. If the specific object of the discourse be per- suasion proper, it is evident that those motives which OF 'iRRANGEMENT IN PERSUASION. 205 He in conceptions and conviction^ of the intellect should precede ; and when the understanding is properly en- lightened and convinced, the way will be open for tlie addresses to the fee|ings. In case the action proposed is embraced within the general course or purpose already adopted by the mind addressed, it will often at the outset be sufficient to prove this. If, however, it be an act repulsive in itself, although conducive to a chosen end, it will be advisable to animate that general purpose in reference to this specific application of it at the close, in order to give it efficiency in the direction desired. In persuasion proper, moreover, the stronger motives should be presented first. § 236. On similar grounds, the same rules of ar- rangement are to be observed in Dissuasion as in Per- suasion proper. In this case, more caution is necessary, as, instead of in- difference merely, direct opposition is to be encountered. § 237. In Incitement, the weaker motives should generally be presented first, and the discourse be closed with such as are fitted to incite to the highest degree of determination. § 238. The principle which respects the relation of the motives to one another is to be observed for the most part only in subordination to the other two. Inasmuch as every thing unnatural is adverse to the highest end of persuasion, motives that are closely connected with each other should not be disconnected, even when the second principle named, that which respects the strength of the motive, may in itself require it. Much less should ar- guments that are presupposed in others be postponed, even although the other principles may demand it. CHAPTER Vn. OF THE INTEODtrCTION AKD PEKOKATION IN PERSUASION. § 239. Both kinds of Introduction, the Explanatory and the Conciliatory, in their several varieties, are ad- missible in Persuasive Discourse. The same cautions and suggestions are needful here as were presented in the corresponding chapter on Excitation. Part III. Chap. v. § 240. Only the Persuasive Peroration with the Re- capitulation is admissible in this kind of discourse. Persuasive Discourse should ever leave the mind addressed ready for the action proposed and urged in it. Where the body of the discourse has consisted of the exhibition of the motives, and, for any reason, the particular action has been suppressed, it will of course be necessary to state the action at the close. This, for a single example, was done by De- mosthenes in his oration generally denominated the Third Philippic. In the main discussion, he unfolds the considera- tions which should influence the Athenians — the existing state of affairs ; and at the close briefly suggests what he thinks ought to be done. If the action has constituted the body of the discussion, the peroration will generally consist of a strong and vivid exhibition of the motives. If the action has been stated, but the motives that urge it have filled up the body of the discourse, the peroration may INTRODUCTION AND PKRORATION, ETC. 207 be by direct appeal or address, or more close application of the motives. Recapitulation is admissible in either case. Exercises in Persuasion. — Find in the following themes motives for the actions named : — The sturdy resistance to the iirst enticements of vicious pleasure, in the power of evil habit. The choice of a high standard of living, in the rewards of conscious approval. The willing encountering of difficulties and trials, in their needfulness to the best character. The rigid observance of method in all thinking, in its im- portance to high intellectual culture. The preference of mental to physical affluence, in the su- perior serenity and satisfactoriness of the fbrmer. SECOND GENEEAL DIVISION. STYLE. GENERAL VIEW. CHAPTER I. OP THE NATTJRB OF STYLE. § 241. Style is that part of Rhetoric which treats of the expression of thought in language. No process of art is complete until its product appears in a sensible form ; and language is- the form in which the art of discourse embodies itself, as sound furnishes the body in the art of music and color in that of painting. Style is, therefore, a necessary part of the art of rhetoric. " Inventio sine elocutione non est oratio." It is not, however, all of the art, just as the laws of sound do not cover the entire province of music, or the principles of coloring exhaust the art of the painter. Style in its broader import includes all forms of expres- sion, the form of the thought, the form of feeUng, the form of purpose or endeavor. But these forms are themselves in discourse finally embodied in language. And it is this last form — the form of thought and feeling as shaped in lan- guage — ■ to which it is more strictly applied. While it presupposes Invention as a distinct branch of the art, style is yet involved even in that ; as the exercises OF THE NATURE OF STYLE. ' 209 of invention cannot proceed but in the fonns of language. The two branches of the art of Rhetoric, accordingly, while they may easily be conceived of as distinct, and in practice predominant attention may be given to either at will, are nevertheless bound together by an essential bond of life. This second division of Rhetoric has been variously de- nominated; and the terms employed to designate it have been used, sometimes in a wider, sometimes- in a more re- stricted sense. The term " e locution " was formerly more commonly used by English writers. It was suggested by the use of the Roman rhetoricians, and was sanctioned and supported by its etymology. It has, however, in later times become more commonly appropriated to denote oral delivery . The term " style" although not strictly a technical word, was used by Latin writers as synonymous with " elocution," and has been, both among English and continental writers, more generally of late applied to this use. It has been employed, however, with more or less latitude of meaning. But the prevailing use of the best writers authorizes the appropriation of the term to denote the entire art of verbal expression. Cicero and others of the ancient rhetoricians made here, also, two divisions ; the one of elocution or style proper, or the choice of words in the expression of thought; the other of the arrangement of words, or composition. As in invention, however, so perhaps stiU more obviously in style, there appears to be no good reason for making this division. § 242. The analysis of style, for the purpose of systematic study, must respect the various -classes of properties which by necessity or possibility belong to it. We cannot consider style, as we have considered inven- tion, in reference to the different processes concerned in its U 210 STYLE. production. For some of the properties of style, or modes of expression, are common and necessary in all kinds of discourse and every expression of thought, while others are determined by the nature of the thought itself. If we except the application of some "of the rules of mere grammar, the best method of pursuing the culture of style, wiU be by the successive study of the varieties of forms which thought may assume when expressed in language, in order that whatever may secure beauty and force to the expression may be in- telligently communicated to it, and whatever may mar or weaken the expression may be avoided. CHAPTER n. OP THE GENERAL PKOPEKTIES OF STYLE. § 243. The first generic distinction of the proper- ties of style is into the Absolute and the Rela- tive. § 244. The Absolute properties of style are found- ed in the nature and laws of language itself. The Relative properties are those which are de- termined by the state of the speaker's mind or by that of the mind addressed. There are these three things which come in to determine the character of the expression, — the thought to be ex- pressed; the object for which it is expressed; and the medium of expression. The last of these, language, has laws and properties of its own which are fixed and invariable, and, as such, inde- pendent of the individual speaker who uses it. The proper- ties* thus determiued to style may be denominated the ab- solute properties of style. They correspond for the most part to what Dr. Campbell calls " the essential properties of elocution." Again, language, as the body of thought, is affected by the state of the speaker's mind. It is not merely the ex- pression of thought, but of his thought. It partakes of his individuality, and is, as it were, an expression of his life. We recognize, thus, at once, as a beauty in style, naturcdness in expression. The class of properties thus determined to 212 STYLE. style, may be denominated the relative-subjective, or, more briefly, the sulyective properties. Further, the speaker, in pure discourse, speaks to effect an object in the mind of another. He must necessarily, therefore, have respect to that mind, and modify his style accordingly. The mere embodying in language of his own thoughts will not of course accomplish his object in the mind addressed. It may be necessary to labor more at perspicuity in the expression than would be requisite for the mere utter- ance of thought. He may be under the necessity of consult- ing force or energy in the expression, or of adorning it. Hence we have another distinct class of properties. They may be denominated the rekdive-ob^'ecfive, or, more briefly, the olgective properties. The last class corresponds nearly with Dr. Campbell's " discriminating properties of elocution." It is the only class which Dr. Whately takes into view in his treatise on style. PART L — ABSOLUTE PROPERTIES. CHAPTER I. GENERAL VIEW OF LANGUAGE AND ITS PEOPEKTIES. § 245. Language may be defined to be the vekbai BODY OF THOUGHT. Language is not, as sometimes represented in loose ex- pression, the mere dress of thought. It has a vital connec- tion with thought ; and is far more truly and appropriately conceived of as the living, organic body of thought, inter- penetrated throughout with the vitality of the thought, as the natural body with the life of the spirit, having living connec- tions between its parts giving it unity and making it a whole, than as a mere dress having no relation to thought and no organic dependence in its parts.* * " The production of speech proceeds by an internal necessity out of the organic life of man; for man speaks because he thinks; and with the production of thought is given at the same time the production of speech. It is a general law of living Nature that each activity in it comes forth into appearance in a material, each spiritual in a bodily; and in the bodily appearance have their limitation and form. In accordance with this law, the thought necessarily comes forth also in the appearance, and becomes embodied in Speech." — K. F. Becker's Organism of Speech, pp. 1, 2. " The origin of speech," says Solger to the same effect, " is one with the origin of thought, which is not possible in reality without speech. Thought is subjective speech, as speech is objective thought — the outward appear- ance of thought itself. Neither is possible without the other ; and both reciprocally condition each other." — ^Esthetics, p. 266. In like manner, Aristotle distinguishes thought and speech, as 6 cfw Xdyog and o effM Adyos. — AikU^ Post* I. X. 7. 214 ABSOLUTE PROPEKTIES. I The embodying of thought into language must necessarily be affected by three different things : — First, the material of the body which it takes. Vocal lan- guage differs, in many respects, from a language of signs. A language, even, formed more directly imder the influence of the ear, as for instance the ancient Greek, possesses pe- culiar features which distinguish it clearly from a language formed more or less under the influence of the pen. Some of the characteristics of the English language may be traced to the fact that the language was developed and formed by writers as well as by speakers ; by those who were influenced more by the form of the word as presented to the eye than by its effect on the ear as a sound. And generally the nature of the material out of which the body is formed must evi- dently affect the process of embodying. The marble gives a different form to the embodiment of the same sentiment or character from that given by color as in painting, or by sound and language as in poetry and music. Secondly, the character of the thought to he emhodied. The thought must never lose its distinctive character and life. On the other hand, as the human spirit in its fleshly body, and the life of a plant in its vegetable structure, it enters its material, disposes it, shapes it, animates it, and altogether determines its outward form and character. Thought, in other words, is the organizing element. It, consequently, when the process of embodying is perfect, manifests itself in every part. This is true, more emphatically, of each partic- ular thought expressed by the individual speaker in the form of oral language. That thought, as a life-giving and dispos- ing element, enters the body of sounds which is furnished to the individual speaker in the language that he uses, and im- presses its own character upon it. But language generally, or the fixed language of a people is organized, so to speak. Its properties are determined by the character of the thought that has, iu being expressed, given it existence. Hence the languages of different nations are different, because the GENERAL VIEW OF LANGUAGE. 215 thought that has characterized the nation at the formation of the language has been different. Thirdly, the natural relationship between thought and artic- ulate sound. Certain sounds are the natural expression of certain feelings and sentiments. Cheerfulness, sadness, ex- ultation, despondency, love, anger, each has its own tone or oral expression. Further than this, in the original construction of language, outward sensible events or objects are taken to represent mental states. For the most part, indeed, language is thus symbolical in its very nature ; — it represents thought through some external object or event either naturally or by accident associated with it. And although, in the progress of scien- tific culture, it becomes more and more abstract, — that is, words having no obvious connection with the thoughts are used to represent them more and more arbitrarily, just as numerical or algebraical signs represent numbers or mathe- matical relations, — stiU language never loses entirely its orig- inal symbolical character. It will ever be regarded, accord- ingly, as a great excellence of style that the thought is rep- resented by means of pictures or images of sensible scenes or events. The sound, then, points to the external object or event, or some sensible property or characteristic of it ; and this, again, to the mental state or thought which it is taken to represent. So far, now, as this object or event is fitted in its own nature to suggest the thought, the indication of the thought is more easy ; the language is more perfectly adapted to its end. This twofold relationship between thought and the means of representing it, namely, between the thought and the sound on the one hand, and between the thought and the sensible object indicated by the soimd on the other, we should ex- pect beforehand, would determine to some extent the con- struction of language ; and in point of fact we find it does so control it to such a degree as to give rise to a class of properties which are considered necessary or highly auxiliary to the great ends of language. 216 ABSOLUTE PROPERTIES. This general view of the nature of language furnishes the ground for the classification of the properties of language or the absolute properties of style. § 246. The absolute properties of style may be dis- tributed into three classes, as they respect more directly the nature of the material of language — articulate sounds ; the relation of that material to the content of language or the relation of articulate sounds to thought ; or the laws of thought itself. These several classes may be denominated the oral, the SUGGESTIVE, and the grammatical properties of style. Language, as the verbal body of thought, consists of artic- ulate sounds. These form the material of which it is made. It is obvious, hence, that a proper regard to the essential nature of articulate sounds is requisite in the formation of style. Again, it is plain that articulate sounds are not taken at random for use in speech. All are not equally adapted for this use ; and the selection is not a matter of pure accident or caprice. On the other hand, through the closer affinity which some sounds have, either directly or through the ob- ject they are taken to represent, to certain thoughts, or through the more intimate association which experience has created between them and such thoughts, the selection is found, on a nice inspection of language as it is, to have been made on certain natural and easily defined principles. These principles, derived either from the inherent relation- ship of the sound to the thought, or of the object taken to represent the thought to the thought itself, thus come in to give shape and form to language. Once more, "thought itself has its own laws. It has its own relations, which must ever be observed in the construc- tion of language and ever be correctly represented in it. GENERAL VIEW OF LANGUAGE. 217 So fer as these laws and relations belong to thought as thought, they fiimish the foundation for the science of uni- versal grammar, or grammar in the abstract. So far as the thought to be expressed is modified by the condition and cir- cumstances of the people that frame a language, these acci- dental relations and forms of thought furnish the foundation for a grammar of a particular language, or, as it may be called to distinguish it from abstract grammar, historical or inductive grammar. We have thus the definitions that are contained in the fol- lowing sections. § 247. The Oral pkoperties of style are those which are determined from the nature of language as consisting of articulate sounds. § 248. The Suggestive pbopeeties of style are those which are determined from the relations of ar- ticulate sounds or of the symbols of thought to the thought to be represented by them. Dr. Whately has applied the term " suggestive " to that kind of style which " without making a distinct though brief mention of a multitude of particulars, shall put the hearer's mind into the same train of thought as the speaker's, and sug- gest to him more than is actually expressed." Of course, what are here called " the suggestive properties " of style are to be widely distinguished from Dr. Whately's "suggestive style." § 249. The Grammatical properties of style are those which are determined by the necessary or acci- dental forms and relations of the thought to be ex- pressed. These properties are comprehensively embraced by Dr. Campbell under the head of " grammatical purity.'' CHAPTER n. OF THE ORAL PROPEKTIES OF STYLE. § 250. The oral properties of style include those of Euphony and Harmony. The ultimate distinction between euphony and harmony as properties of language consists in this ; — that euphony re- spects the sound or the phonetic side of language exclusively, while harmony regards the sound only in relation to the thought or to the logical side. Euphony has respect to the sounds of words as they affect the ear, and are regarded merely as sounds, and independently of any signification they may have. In harmony, sounds are regarded in relation to the thought which they express. Hence the effect of euphony is a mere sensation on the outward ear ; while that of har- mony is an emotion and springs directly from an intellectual perception. Euphony addresses the lowest form of the sen- sibiUty — the animal sense ; harmony the highest — the passive imagination. Another distinction, growing out of the one already named, is this ; — that euphony respects chiefly single words, while harmony respects only a succession of words. In some cases, indeed, euphony is violated in the combination of words, when the effect of the enunciation is disagreeable merely be- cause of the succession of particular sounds. Thus the sen- tence, " The hosts stood still," is in violation rather of euphony than of harmony, — the offensiveness to the ear arising out of the difficulty of enunciating the elemental soimds here brought into proximity. The expression of thought, on the OF THE ORAL PROPERTIES OF STYLE. 219 other hand, being ever continuous, harmony appears only in a succession of words. The sentence, " He behaved himself exceedingly discreetly," is faulty in harmony, not in euphony ; for while it is oflPensive to the ear, it is not as mere sounds. The enunciation of the sentence is easy and the sounds them- selves rather pleasant than otherwise. But in the communi- cation of thought, we demand variety and distinctness in the expression of all its various relations. In this sentence, the similarity of sound in the last two words indicates a similar- ity of relation, and we are disappointed and so far offended in not finding the sense answering to the sound in this re- spect. Hence it may sometimes happen that euphony must be sacrificed in order to the most perfect harmony. As in music the fullest harmonious effect of a whole strain requires some- times the introduction of discords, so in speech, the most per- fect expression of the sentiment may demand the selection of words that in comparison with others are more harsh and dificult of utterance. Practically, whether the fault in a sentence offensive to the ear be one against euphony or one against harmony may be determined by the circumstance that a sentence deficient in euphony is always difficult of enunciation ; an inharmoni- ous sentence is not necessarily difiicult of utterance. It should be observed, moreover, that euphony is some- times a constituent of harmony. § 251. The oral properties of style, being founded on the nature of language as consisting of sounds, strictly belong only to spoken discourse. Yet as in the silent perusal of written discourse the mind translates the characters into the sounds which they represent, even such discourse must be pronounced defective unless these properties appear in it. As the practiced musician instantly detects any defect in 220 ABSOLUTE PROPERTIES. the harmony while his eye runs silently over the pages of written music, so even in silent reading we are unpleasantly affected by any violation of the oral properties of style. "We experience a sensation of weariness from the silent perusal of a work deficient in these properties precisely like that felt after an audible reading. Language never entirely conceals this peculiarity of its nature as made up of sounds, or as oral, even when it appears in the form of a visible symbol ad- dressed to the eye alone. § 252. The oral properties of style caa be best ac- quired only under the influence of the ear while listen- ing to the audible pronunciation of discourse. It is difficult to comprehend how a deaf-mute can ever be sensible of the euphony or harmony of discourse ; although experience shows that even he may write poetry, which, more than any other form of discourse, as involving at least rhythm and rhyme, seems to require the superintendence and guid- ance of the ear. It is safe, notwithstanding, to assume that the writer who neglects to cultivate the ear in reference to the construction of his sentences must be liable to fail in these properties of style. The importance of them, even to written discourse, may be seen in the fact that the writings of Addison owe no small part of their attractiveness to the musical structure of his style. The public speaker especially needs to subject himself to much training of the ear, in order to give it such a control over his style of expression that his sentences, without conscious design, shall as it were form themselves in accordance with the principles of euphony and harmony. Next to the study of discourse as pronounced by living orators, may be recommended recitation from the best poets and orators. Every student of oratory should devote a por- tion of time daily to this exercise or to that of reading aloud composition exceUing in musical properties. The speeches of eminent orators generally possess these excellences in a ORAL PROPERTIES. 221 higher degree than other classes of prose composition. The various writings of Burke, of Milton, and of Addison fur- nish, however, excellent studies for the acquisition of these properties. The Greek and Latin languages, also, having been formed, in a preeminent degree, under the influence of the ear, inasmuch as poetry and oratory were the earlier forms in which they developed themselves, may be profitably studied for this purpose. As studies of this kind respect immediately the culture of the ear alone, it should ever be remembered that they can be prosecuted to best advantage only by audible pronuncia- tion. CHAPTER in. OF EUPHONY. § 253. Euphony in style respects the character of the sounds of words regarded merely as sounds without reference to any thought which they may express. The sounds of words vary only in four different ways, namely in respect to pitch, force, time, and quaUty. But it is obvious euphony has nothing to do with variations of pitch, any further at least than this, that it requires the successions of pitch to be not monotonously uniform. This part of the field, however, is so entirely included within the province of harmony that it may here with propriety be whoUy passed over. Neither, has euphony any thing to do with the time of sounds, with quantity, except so far as quantity is a con- stituent of accent. The only points to be considered here, therefore, are force as it appears in accent, and quality of sound. . § 254. Euphony requires the avoidance of such words and expressions as are difficult of utterance on account of the succession of unaccented syllables. There are many words in our language which it is difii- crdt to enounce on account of the number of unaccented syl- lables occurring in immediate succession, as, for instance, meteorological, desultoriness, imitativeness, imprecatory. Such words, so far as practicable, shoidd be avoided in all elevated discourse. They are, for the most part, of Greek or Latin origin. OF EUPHONY. 223 Not only words but phrases having a number of unac- cented syllables may be objectionable on this account. The phrase, " The obstinacy of his undutiful son,'' contains six unaccented sylUbles in succession, and cannot well be pro- nounced without interposing a pause where the sense forbids. The following sentence from TiUotson is liable to the same censure : — " When a man hath once forfeited the reputation of his integrity, nothing will then serve his turn." In reading it the voice labors, and seeks to relieve itself by pausing slightly after forfeited, and also after reputation. The pause supplies the accent that is missed. § 255. Euphony requires, in the second place, that those words and phrases be avoided which are harsh and disagreeable in respect of quality of sound. The words of a language are faulty in euphony in respect of quality only by reason of derivation or composition. Eu- phony presides over the formation and development of lan- guage, and watchfully guards against the introduction of offensive combinations either in roots or general forms of der- ivation and inflection. The radical words of all languages are hence euphonious. But it will sometimes happen that the general laws of derivation and composition will bring together vocal -elements which, taken together, are harsh and difficult to utter. So, likewise, foreign words, containing elements not belonging to the indigenous tongue, may be difficult to pronounce, and, therefore, to a native ear be wanting in euphony. Further, individual habits or physical' defects may render certain combinations difficult which are not so to others of the same country. While occasionally offenses against euphony may be suf- fered for the sake of force or clearness, the excessive repeti- tion of them gives to style a forbidding character. 224 ABSOLUTE PROPERTIES. The following sentences are faulty in this respect : — Thou form'dst me poor at first and keep'st me so. The hosts stood still in silent wonder fix'd. After the most straitest sect of our religion I livecl a Pharisee. As far as respects the affairs of this world. For the peace and good of the Church is not terminated in the schismless estate of one or two kingdoms. CHAPTER IV, OP HAEMONT HAKMONT PROPBE. § 256. Hakmont in style respects the character of the sounds of words as expressions of thought. Harmony, as a property of style, lies between euphony, which regards sounds as sounds merely, on the one side, and the suggestive properties of style, which regard the image presented to the mind by the word, on the other, as in a painting we readily discriminate between the pleasing nature of the colors as they aifect the eye of a child, and such a disposition of them as will express real objects; and again between this and the representation of character, which is fully appreciated only by a matured taste ; or as, in music, we distinguish between the sounds that a child elicits as he runs his lingers at random^ over the keys of a piano-forte and those which a master produces while, without designing to express a particular sentiment, he yet instinctively obeys the fixed principles of melody and harmony, and again between these and the sounds which he elicits when intently bent on the expression of a sentiment ; so we may distinguish between euphony and harmony, and again between harmony and those properties which are more directly founded on the thought to be expressed. We have in. these several processes of art, first, the mere outward material — the color or the sound ; secondly, the body as the organized expression of an internal and spiritual principle, but regarded still as body addressed to the senses ; and thirdly, the sentiment or thought revealed in the body. The fuller development of these difierent 15 226 ABSOLUTE PROPERTIES. classes of properties will indicate not only the fundamental grounds of distinction between them, but also the practical utility of discriminating between them in the study of style. § 267. Harmony, in the wider sense, includes Har- mony proper. Rhythm, and Melody. This subdivision of harmony is founded on the distinction of vocal utterances into those belonging to the four different functions of voice, namely, pitch, force, time, and quality of voice. Pitch is the constituent of melody ; force and time give accent — the constituent of rhythm ; and quality of voice lies at the foundation of harmony proper. § 258. Harmony Propes is founded on the quality of sounds, and requires that the succession of sounds in a sentence be in unison with the thought, and a fitting embodiment of it. The quality of sounds can be regarded in style only so far as the elemental sounds, of which words are composed, are concerned. In this respect, — tlie character of the elemental sounds which enter into their structiu-e, — different languages differ greatly, as well as the styles of different writers in the same language. While the Italian language, thus, has in its alphabet fewer vowels than the English, yet the vowel sounds have a great relative predominance in the actual structure of the language as compared with the English. There are in English discourse but about three fourths as many vowels as in Italian ; that is, while in an English sentence of eight hundred letters there are not far from three hundred vowels, in an Italian sentence of as many letters there are nearly four hundred. The Italian language, in harmonious effect, differs from the English in this particular, that as composed of a large portion of vowels, it is more open, smooth, and flowing ; while the English has the pecul- iar strength and expressiveness which a highly consonantal character imparts. OF HARMONY PKOPEK. 227 There is, moreover, a wide diiFerence in the character of different consonants. Some have vocality, others are mere aspirations. In some languages, also, the same consonant has less, in others more, of a proper consonantal character. The lower Germans are more open in their pronunciation — that is, compress with less force the articulating organs in forming consonants — than the English. If it be borne in mind, now, that harmony never loses sight of the character of the thought to be expressed, it will at once be perceived that in respect to certain kinds of thought the peculiar alphabetic structure of our language will be more favorable to harmony, whilfe in respect to others, it will be less so. The following lines from Coleridge's " Hymn before Sunrise in the Vale of Chamouni," strike the ear pleasantly and excite the emotion of harmony : — " And you, ye five wild torrents, fiercely glad ! Who called you forth from night and utter death, From dark and icj' caverns called you forth, Down those precipitous, black, jagged rocks, Forever shattered, and the same forever! " The sounds, however, particularly in the last two verses, are far different in quality from those in the following, which are equally harmonious : — " * God ! ' sing, ye meadow streams, with gladsome voice ! Te pine groves, with your soft and soul-like sounds." Of a Still different character are the following remarkably harmonious lines from Gray's '' Elegy in a Country Church- yard " : — " The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion or the echoing horn No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed." The English language is peculiarly favorable to that species of harmony which may appear in union with strength and energy ; the Italian, to that which is combined with calm elevation and dignity as well as grace and elegance. 228 ABSOLUTE PROPERTIES. The following are illustrations of this property of style in prose discourse : — " Truth, indeed, came once into the world with her divine Master, and was a perfect shape, most glorious to look on ; but when he ascended, and his apostles after him were laid asleep, then straight arose a wicked race of deceivers, who, as that stoiy goes of the Egyptian Typhon with his con- spirators how they dealt with the good Osiris, took the virgin Truth, hewed her lovely form into a thousand pieces, and scattered them to the four winds. From that time ever since, the sad iriends of Truth, such as durst appear, imitating the careful search that Isis made for the mangled body of Osiris, went up and down gathering up limb by limb still as they could find them. We have not yet found them all, nor ever shall do, till her Master's second coming: he shall bring together every joint and member, and shall mold them into an immortal feature of loveliness and perfection." — Milton. " But so have I seen a harmless dove made dark with an artificial light, and her eyes sealed and locked up with a little quill, soaring upward and flying with amazement, fear, and an undiscerning wing: she made toward heaven, but knew not that she was made a train and an instrument, to teach her enemy to prevail on her and all her defenseless kindred. So is a superstitious man; zealous and blind, forward and mistaken, he runs to- ward heaven, as he thinks; but he chooses foolish paths, and out of fear takes any thing that he is told." — Jeremy Taylor. § 259. Harmony proper may be violated either generally (1), by discordant and jarring combinations of sounds in the sentence, or specifically (2), by an imperfect adaptation of the sounds to the particular character of the thought. Language, as the body of thought, should ever evince the presence of the organizing principle generally, by assuming a form pleasing to the sense, as throughout homogeneous and accordant expression of thought. There is beauty in a clear complexion, smooth skin, and nicely rounded features, as the proper expression of a sound mental condition. There is a beauty, too, entirely distinct from this, in the flashing eye of excited hope, the crimson flush of offended modesty, the languor and paleness of pining grief, as the expressions of the inward spirit. If they have a beauty in themselves, it is entirely lost in the greater and more absorb- OF HAEMONT PROPER. 229 ing beauty which they possess as mental expressions. So there is a harmony in the adaptation of language, as consist- ing of diverse sounds, to the particular thought to be ex- pressed ; to be distinguished from mere euphony,, or the agreeableness of the sounds regarded as mere sounds, on the one hand, and from the general beauty which a perfect expression of thought in language imparts, on the other. The style of Barrow, with all its excellences, is often faulty in respect to harmony. The following extracts are deficient in general smoothness. We feel in reading them that the expression does not flow in easy utterance of the thought. " When sarcastical twitches are needful to pierce the thick skins of men, to conceal their lethargic stupidity, to rouse them out of their drowsy neg- ligence, then may they well be applied: when plain declarations will not enlighten people to discern the truth and weight of things, and blunt ar- guments will not penetrate to convince them or persuade them to their duty, then doth reason treely resign its place to wit, allowing it to un- dertake its work of instruction and reproof." " Their eminency of state, their affluence of wealth, their uncontrollable power, their exemption iVom common restraints, their continual distractions and encumbrances by varieties of care and business, their multitude of obsequious followers, and scarcity of faithful triends to advise or reprove them, their having no obstacles before them to check their wills, to cross their humors, to curb their lusts and passions, are so many snares unto them: wherefore they do need plentiful measures of grace, and mighty assistances from God, to presei*ve them from the worst errors and sins ; into which otherwise it is almost a miracle if they are not plunged." Archbishop Tillotson's style is also exceedingly defective in respect to harmony. The •following is an extract : — " One might be apt to think at first view, that this parable was overdone, and wanted something of a due decorum ; it being hardly credible that a man, after he had been so mercifully dealt withal, as, upon his humble request, to have so huge a debt so freely forgiven, should, whilst the m'emory of so much mercy was fresh upon him, even in the very next moment, handle his fellow-servant, who had made the same humble re- quest to him which he had done to his lord, with so much roughness and cruelty, for so inconsiderable a sum." CHAPTER V. OP EHTTHM. § 260. Rhythm in style is founded on accent ; and requires that the succession of accented and unaccented syllables be such as will suitably express the thought. Among the ancients rhythm was regarded as the prominent thing in harmony of style ; and much attention was given to it in the study of oratory. The structure of the Greek and Latin languages admitted, to a much greater degree than our own, the application of the principles of rhythm to the formation of style. Yet in the English language rhythm plays an important part ; and in no point are the writings, of different men more easily distinguishable from one another than in respect to rhythm, nor is there scarcely any other property more missed in oratory, when wanting. The ancient rhetoricians endeavored earnestly to ascertain and settle the laws of rhythm ; that is, determine in what particular successions of accent, or in what feet oratorical rhythm consists. The endeavor seems to have been fruit- less, as the results of their invfestigations were widely vari- ant. Indeed, from the very nature of oratory as distin- guished from poetry, and yet proceeding from a mind formed in feeling and taste as well as in intelligence, and also from the nature of harmony as a concord of sound and thought, we might have anticipated a failure in such an effort. The rugged oak, with its heavy, abrupt, and open arms and its scanty spray and foliage, has a harmony, so to speak, of its own ; and there is, too, a harmony peculiar to the willow with its long and slender branches and pendent foliage. OF RHYTHM. 231 The diverse character of the thought gives a diverse character to the rhythm. Strength and vehemence delight in the fre- quent concurrence of heavy accents ; tenderness and famili- arity avoid them. Yet the oak is not aU heavy, jagged boughs ; nor is the willow all twig and leaf. There are ex- tremes in both directions; and against these the following rules are given as the only ones which the nature of the case allows. It should be ever borne in mind that while there is such a thing as rhythm, it is ever determined by the character of the thought; else rhythm would be mere euphony. The rhythm of Demosthenes would not be rhythm in Cicero. § 261. First, Rhythm forbids the excessive recur- rence both of accented and of unaccented syllables. This rule is founded in the very nature of -rhythm, which is constituted of an intermixture of accented and unaccented syllables. A style that offends against this rule must be pro- nounced to be so far wanting in rhythm. The writings of Tillotson, characterized generally for want of harmony, fur- nish abundant exemplifications of this fault in style. It will be remarked in the following extracts from this in many re- spects excellent writer, that the ear demands a heavy accent on the italicized words so much that such an accent is thrown on a word which should not regularly receive it. In this we find a proof that harmony ever respects the thought, and not the sound merely in which it is embodied. " Consider that religion is a great and a long work, and asks so much time that there is none left for the delaying qfit.^^ " But then I say withal, that if these principles were banished out of the world, Government would be far more difficult than now it is, because it would want its firmest basis and foundation ; there would be infinitely more disorders in the world, if men were restrained from injustice and vio- lence only by humane laws, and not by principles of conscience, and the dread of another world." If the word humane in this last extract be pronounced as it is here spelt, the ear will instantly detect the want of 232 ABSOLUTE PROPERTIES. rhythm in the sentence. The offense is indeed so great that we cannot doubt the word was pronounced in the time of Tillotson as it is now, with the accent on the first syllable, and that in dropping the final e we have only conformed the orthography to the pronunciation. In striking contrast with the style of Tillotson in respect to all the oral properties, and particularly that of rhythm, is the style of Milton, of which the following are beautifiil exemplifications : — " I shall detain you now no longer in the demonstration of what we should not do, but straight conduct you to a hill-side, where I will point you out the right path of a virtuous and noble education, laborious indeed at the first ascent, but else so smooth, so green, so full of goodly prospects and melodious sotmds on every side, that the harp of Orpheus was not more charming." By a slight change in the rhythm, without affecting the sense, this sentence may lose all its beauty. By substituting, for instance, in the last part of it at first for at the first ascent, on all sides for on every side, and sweet for charming, the rhythm is greatly marred ; as wiU be seen from a mere pe- rusal of it as thus altered : — I will point you out the right path of a virtuous and noble education, laborious indeed at first, but else so smooth, so green, so full of goodly pros- pects and melodious sounds on all sides, that the harp of Orpheus was not more sweet. " When a man hath been laboring the hardest labor in the deep mines of knowledge, hath furnished out his findings in all their equipage, drawn forth his reasons as it were a battle ranged, scattered and defeated all ob- jections in his way, calls out his adversary into the plain, offers him the ad- vantage of wind and sun, if he please, only that he may try the matter by dint of argument; for his opponents then to skulk, to lay arabushments, to keep a narrow bridge of licensing where the challenger should pass, though it be valor enough in soldiership, is but weakness and cowardice in the wars of Truth. For who knows not that Truth is strong, next to the Almighty ? She needs no policies, nor stratagems, nor liceusings, to make her victori- ous. Those are the shifts and the defenses that EiTor uses against her power." — Of Unlicensed Printing. § 262. Secondly, Rhythm forbids an excessive re- currence of metrical feet which shall suggest the suspi- cion that the speaker has become poet. OF RHYTHM. 233 This is a fault in style into which immature writers are liable to fall ; especially if accustomed much to the exclusive recitation of poetical compositions. While it implies a mu- sical ear, it is yet a fault of excess ; and in pure oratory is inadmissible. The fault more commonly appears in the more elevated parts of discourse, when the speaker, as it were, absorbs the audience into himself, and imagines him- self no longer an orator, in address to others, but their mouth-piece, in the mere utterance or pouring out of their common thoughts and feelings. As words of foreign origin do not readily fall in with those of native stock in rhyth- mical harmony,* writers who are liable to this fault of excess in rhythm are generally characterized for their preference of Anglo-Saxon words. The following passage, from a popular author in the lighter departments of hterature, might be reduced to the form of regular blank verse : — " Then when the dusk of evening had come on, and not a sound disturbed the sacred stillness of the place — when the bright moon poured in her light on tomb and monument, on pillar, wall, and arch, and most of all it seemed to them, upon her quiet grave — in that calm time, when all outward things and inward thoughts teem with assurances of immortality, and worldly hopes and fears are bumbled in the dust before them — then, with tranquil and submissive hearts they turned away and left the child with God. Oh ! it is hard to take to heart the lesson that such deaths will teach, but let no man reject it, for it is one that all must learn, and is a. mighty, universal truth. When Death strikes down the innocent and young, for every fragile form from which he lets the panting spirit free, a hundred virtues rise in shapes of mercy, charity, and love, to walk the world and bless it. Of every tear that sorromng mortals shed on such green graves, some good is born, some gentler nature comes. In the destroyer's steps there spring up bright creations that defy'his power, and his dark path becomes a way of light to heaven." Twining, in his " Notes on Aristotle's Poetics," quotes the * In the last extract from Milton, it will be seen at once that " ambush- ments" mars the rhythm. And in the next quotation, under this section, the phrase " assurances of immortality " ia almost the only one that inter- rupts the poetical structure. 234 ABSOLUTE PROPERTIES. following from " Smith's System of Optics," as a striking instance of involuntary versification : — " When parallel rays || come contrary ways || and fall upon opposite sides." § 263. A correct or faulty rhythm appears most con- spicuous at the termination of sentences or phrases, as the character of a strain of music is most affected by the cadence. In the cadence of a sentence, or member of a sentence, is concentrated its entire musical effect. Hence, in the study of rhythm, the chief attention has been given to the construc- tion of the cadence. The style of Addison owes its easy flow in a great meas- ure to the fact that, while trochaic cadences, or such as end with an unaccented syllable, predominate, the heavy effect of an invariable sameness is avoided by a due interspersion of iambic endings. A spondaic cadence rarely occurs in the compositions of this author. The style of Middleton, the author of the "Life of Cicero," is also excellent in this property. CHAPTER VI. OF MELODY. § 264. Melodt is founded on pitch ; and requires that the phrases or members of a sentence be so con- structed and disposed that, in a suitable pronunciation, the successions of pitch be pleasing to the ear. The term melody, as applied both to style in composition and to elocution, has, for the most part, been used in a vague and indeterminate sense. Its use in music is, however, fixed ; and .there is obviously every reason for preserving to it the same radical import in all its various applications. In song, it denotes pitch in succession, and is clearly distinguished from rhythm, which respects accent in succession. In elo- cution, we perceive the necessity of maintaining the same distinction, and need, for this purpose, the same precision in the distinct use of the terms. The same necessity, Ukewise, exists in style. The exact relations of pitch to style are indicated in the fact that, in the oral delivery of discourse, the mutual de- pendence and connection of the particular constituents of the complex thought are expressed chiefly, although not exclu- sively, through the variations of pitch. While it belongs to elocution to define precisely what these variations are, it is the appropriate province of rhetoric to describe how the sen- tence shall be constructed so as to meet these qualities of an easy and agreeable elocution. More particularly, every constituent part of a complex thought, or the expression of it in a particular phrase, has, 236 ABSOLUTE PROPERTIES. in a correct elocution, a pitch of its own by which it is dis- tinguished from the other constituent parts. In passing from one phrase to another, the voice changes its pitch for the purpose often simply of making the transition, and with no reference to any emphatic distinction. These successive ranges of pitch, given respectively to the several phrases, may obviously be such as to be offensive to a "musical ear. So far, therefore, as they are determined by the structure of the sentence, they need to be regarded in style. But, further than this, the relations between the constitu- ent thoughts are indicated, in delivery, chiefly by the pitch of the voice. If, accordingly, the sentence be so constructed that these relations cannot appropriately be expressed with ease and agreeable effect under the limitations of the laws of vocal sounds, it is so far faulty ; and the prevention or cor- rection of the fault comes within the proper purview of rhe- torical style. How far, and in what particular respects, the principles of melody in elocution may thus affect the style of discourse, wiU be exhibited in the sections which follow. § 265. Melody -in style may be distinguished into two kinds : the melody of proportion, and the melody of arrangement. A fault in melody may be either in the time of the varia- tions of pitch, — the variations being too frequent or the contrary ; or in the character of the variations themselves, being in their own nature unmusical. That species of melody which is founded on the frequency or infrequency of the variations, or what amounts to the same thing, on the length of the phrases, is denominated the mel- ody of proportion. The melody of arrangement respects the character of the variations themselves, as judged by a musical standard. § 266. The melody of proportion is founded on the OF MELODY. 237 relative length of the phrases or clauses in a sentence ; and requires that the discourse be neither fragmentary and abrupt, on the one hand ; nor on the other be made up of members too extended for easy elocution. The abrupt and fragmentary style is more tolerable in essays ; and is more frequent in this department of writing. The following extract from Lord Bacon, however excellent in other respects, is deficient in melody : — " Studies serve for delight, for ornament, and for ability. Their chief use for delight is in privateness and retiring ; for ornament, is in discourse ; and for ability, is in the judgment and disposition of business; for expert men can execute, and perhaps judge of particulars one by one, but the general counsels, and the plots and marshaling of affairs come best from those that are learned. To spend too much time in studies is sloth ; to use them too much for ornament is affectation; to make judgment wholly by their rules is the humor of a scholar : they perfect Nature, and are perfected by experi- ence: for natural abilities are like natural plants, that need pruning by study ; and studies themselves do give forth directions too much at large, except they be bounded in by experience. Crafty men contemn studies, simple men admire, and wise men use them ; for they teach not their own use ; but that is a wisdom without them, and above them, won by obser- vation." The opening sentence in Hooker's " Ecclesiastical Polity,'' as well as the succeeding extract from Middleton, labor from being broken up by numerous qualifying clauses. " Though for no other cause, yet for this, that posterity may know we have not loosely, through silence, permitted things to pass away as in a dream, there shall be for men's information extant thus much concerning the present state of the Church of God established among us, and their careful endeavor which would have upheld the same." " And that it was not peculiar to the gift of language or tongues only, to be given at the moment of its exertion, but common likewise to all the rest, will be shown, probably, on some other occasion, more at large in a partic- ular treatise, which is already prepared by me, on that subject." — Middle- ton. The style of Ossian and of Young in his " Night Thoughts " is also deficient in this species of melody. " Leave, blue-eyed Clatho, leave thy hall. Behold that early beam of thine. The host is withered in its course. No further look — it is dark. Light trembling from the harp, strike, virgins, strike the sound. No hunter, 238 ABSOLUTE PEOPEETIES. he descends from the dewy haunt of the bounding roe. He bends not his bow on the wind; or sends his gray arrow abroad." — Temora, B. v. " Sense ! take the rein ; blind passion ! drive us on ; And Ignorance ! befriend us on our way; Ye new, but truest patrons of our peace 1 Tes, give the pulse full empire ; live the brute, Since as the brute we die: the sum of man. Of God-like man ! to revel and to rot." Night Thoughts. The opposite fault of this kind may be exemplified in the foUowing extracts from John Howe : — " If we can suppose an offense of that kind may be of so heinous a nature and so circumstanced as that it cannot be congruous it should be remitted without some reparation to the prince and compensation for the scandal done to government, it is easy to suppose it much more incongruous it should be so in the present case." — Living Temple. *'And no doubt so large and capacious intellects may well be supposed to penetrate far into the reason and wisdom of his dispensations ; and so not only to exercise submission in an implicit acquiescence in the unseen and only believed fitness of them, but also to take an inexpressible complacency and satisfaction in what they manifestly discern thereof, and to be able to resolve their delectation in the works and ways of God into a higher cause and reason than the mere general belief that he doth all things well, namely, their immediate delightful view of the congruity and fitness of what he does." — IKd. In this class of faults — those against melody of propor- tion — may be included, also, the joining together of dispro- portionately long and short members. The ear demands not only variety, but also a harmonized variety of proportion between the members of a sentence. The following sen- tence from Sterne is in this respect highly melodious : — " The accusing spirit, which flew up to Heaven's Chancery with the oath, blushed as he gave it in ; and the recording angel, as he wrote it down, dropped a tear upon the word and blotted it out forever." By simply altering the length of one or two of the clauses, the melody may be entirely destroyed through a mere change of proportion between the parts. This may be done by leaving out in the last clause the phrase upon the word, and also the word forever, thus : and the recording angel, as he wrote it, dropped a tear and blotted it out. OF MELODY. 239 § 267. The Melody op Aeeangement is founded on the variations of pitch which are requisite for ex- pressing the proper relations between the constituent parts of a complex sentence, or more directly on those relations themselves ; and requires that the sentence be so constructed that those relations may be easily ex- pressed by the voice. It has been remarked, under § 264, that the vocal expres- sion of the relations between the diflFerent parts or phrases of a complex sentence, or the grouping of speech, as it is called, is mainly effected by the function of pitch. In a melodious style, accordingly, the sentence must be so con- structed that these relations may be easily expressed ; in other words, so that there may be no confusion in the indi- cation of the relations on the one hand, and no laborious effort be imposed on the voice in effecting this indication, on the other. In the following selections, although the sentences are more or less complex, they are yet so arranged that the re- lations between the parts are easily indicated by the voice ; and the effect on the ear is consequently pleasing in a high degree. The first are from Dugald Stewart, whose style in this respect is highly finished. " The most trifling accident of scenery, it is evident, at least the most trifling to an unskilled eye, may thus possess, in his estimation, a value superior to that which he ascribes to beauties of a far higher order." By simply transposing the second and third clauses of this sentence, the melodious flow is broken up and its music is lost. The most trifling accident of scenery, at least the most trifling to an unskilled eye, it is evident, may thus possess, in his estimation, a value superior to that which he ascribes to beauties of a far higher order. " If the one party should observe, for instance, to his companion that the minute parts of the tree, which the latter afiirms to be the most remote ; — 240 ABSOLUTE PEOPEKTIES. that its smaller ramifications, its foliage, and the texture of its bark are seen much more distinctly than the corresponding parts of the other; he could not fail in immediately convincing him of the Inaccuracy of his estimate." • In this sentence the leading thought is placed last. The voice, accordingly, in pronouncing it, naturally rises to a higher pitch and swells into a larger volume ; and thus leaves upon the ear at the close an agreeable fullness and force of sound. At the same time, the less important explanatory and modifying clauses are so thrown in, as both to break up the monotonousness of a direct assertion, and also to furnish the proper occasion of a pleasing variety in the successions of pitch. Change the order of almost any two members of the sentence and the melody wiU be destroyed. The style of Addison is more direct and less diversified with dependent modifying clauses. It exhibits this species of melody — that of arrangement — in the disposition of the leading thought in the sentence ; which is generally so placed as, in a reading correctly adapted to the sense, to leave the ear impressed with an agreeable elevation and body of sound. " We are obliged to devotion for the noblest buildings that have adorned the several countries of the world. It is this which has set men at work on temples and public places of worship, not only that they might, by the magnificence of the building, invite the Deity to reside within it, but that such stupendous works might, at the same time, open the mind to vast conceptions, and fit it to converse with the divinity of the place." — Spectator. " It seeks not to bereave or destroy the body ; it seeks tp save the soul by humbling the body, not by imprisonment or pecuniary mulct, much less by stripes or bonds or disinheritance, but by fatherly admonishment and Christian rebuke to cast it into godly sorrow whose end is joy and in- genuous bashfulness to sin. If that cannot be wrought, then as a tender mother takes her child and holds it over the pit with scaring words, that it may learn to fear where danger is; so doth excommunication as dearly and as ireely, without money, use her wholesome and saving terrors. She is instant ; she beseeches ; by all the dear and sweet promises of salvation she entices and wooes: by all the threatenings and thunders of the law and rejected gospel, she charges and abjures: this is all her armory, her munition, her artillery : then she awaits with long-sufferance and yet ardent zeal." — Mitlon. OF MELODY. 241 " Of Law there can be no less acknowledged, than that her seat is the bosom of Gtod, her voice the harmony of the world; all things in heaven and earth do her homage, the very least as feeling her care, and the greatest as not exempted from her power ; both angels and men and creatures of what condition soever, though each in different sort and manner, yet all with miiform consent, admiring her as the mother of their peace and joy." — Hooker. § 268. Faults in respect to the melody of arrange- ment are either in the adoption of the loose, in prefer- ence to the periodic structure of a sentence, or of the parenthetical as opposed to the compact structure. The periodic and the compact structure is as favorable to clearness and to energy as to melody ; and hence it will be again noticed in the chapters on those properties of style. It has a more intimate and vital connection, however, with melody ; since a sentence may be perspicuous or energetic which is not periodic in its structure, whereas this structure is indispensable t« melody. § 269. A PERIODIC STRUCTURE is One in which the leading thought of the sentence is presented in the closing member. A LOOSE STRUCTURE, as Opposed to the periodic, is one in which the sentence terminates with one or more dependent members. This definition is given in preference to that adopted by Dr. Campbell and after him by Dr. Whately, which is as follows: "A period is a complex sentence in which the meaning remains suspended till the whole is finished." It is easy to construct a sentence which shall be exceedingly loose while it yet accords precisely with this definition. For example: "One party had given their whole attention, during several years, to the project not only of enriching themselves and impoverishing the rest of th* nation ; but, also, by these and other means, establishing their dominion imder the government and with the favor of a family who 16 242 ABSOLUTE PROPERTIES. were foreigners that they might easily believe they were established on the throne by the good-will and strength of this party alone." This sentence must be denominated ex- ceedingly loose, and yet, to apply Dr. Campbell's criterion, there is no " place before the end, at which, if you make a stop, the construction of the preceding part will render it a complete sentence.'' Why the periodic structure is favorable to melody may be seen in the fact, that the leading thought being presented in whole or in part in the closing member, that member must receive vocal distinction in the enunciation, which is indi- cated by the pitch ; and consequently the sentence closes with a full and strong impression on the ear. In a loose sentence, on the contrary, ending with a dependent clause, the voice is abated upon it, and the effect is analogous to that of ending a strain of music on some other than the key- note. Examples of a periodic structure are given under § 326. The following are instances of a loose structure : — "And here it was often found of absolute necessity to influence or cool the passions of the audience, especially at Rome, where TuUy spoke ; and with whose writings young divines, I mean those among them who. read old authors, are more conversant than with those of Demosthenes ; who, by many degrees, excelled the other, at least as an author." — SvAft. It would be difficult, perhaps, to find in the writings of a reputable author, a sentence more loosely constructed than this. The leading thought terminates with the first member ; and there are five modifying clauses appended, at each of which the voice seems ready to rest, but is caUed up anew by another connective bringing in a new member. While it is not destitute of clearness or strength, it is exceedingly difficult to express the relations between the members by any pleasing management of the voice. The following stanza from Byron, whose poetry is not remarkable for excellence in this kind of propertiesj is also OF MELODY. 243 exceedingly loose, while not wanting in other qualities of an elegant diction : — " And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, Dewy with Nature's tear-drops, as they pass, Grieving — if aught inanimate e'er grieves — Over the unreturhing brave, — alas ! Ere evening to be trodden like the grass Which now beneath them, but above shall grow In its next verdure, when this fiery mass Of living valor rolling on the foe. And burning with high hope, shall molder cold and low." " To this succeeded that licentiousness which entered with the Restora- tion; and, from infecting our religion and morals, fell to corrupt our language ; which last was not like to be much improved by those who at that time made up the court of King Charles the Second ; either such who had followed him in his banishment, or who had been altogether conversant in the dialect of those fanatic times ; or young men, who had been educated in the same company; so that the court, which used to be the standard of propriety and correctness of speech, was then, and I think hath ever since continued, the worst school in England for that accomplishment; and so will remain till better care be taken in the education of our young nobility, that they may set out into the world with some foundation of literature, in order to qualify them for patterns of politeness." — Svxft. "The first could not end his learned treatise without a panegyric of modern learning and knowledge in comparison of the ancient; and the other falls so grossly into the censure of the old poetry and preference of the new, that 1 could not read either of these strains without indignation, which no quality among men is so apt to raise in one as self-sufficiency, the worst composition out of the pride and ignorance of mankind." — § 270. An antithetic structure, so far as it is peri- odic, is peculiarly favorable to this kind of melody. Where the main member of the antithesis, or that to which the writer wishes to give peculiar prominence, is placed last, the antithesis is periodic, and so far melodious. Where this order is reversed, the melody is marred- or destroyed. The fbllowing extract has this quality in a high degree, although the members are too uniformly short to give it the highest melodious effect : — " If they were unacquainted with the works of philosophers and poets, they were deeply read in the oracles of God. If their names were not 244 ABSOLUTE PEOPERTIES. found in the registers of heralds, they felt assvired they were recorded in the Book of Life. If their steps were not accompanied by a splendid train of menials, legions of ministering angels had charge over them." — Macaiday. § 271. Parenthetical sentences are opposed to mel- ody, when the parentheses are of excessive length, or when parentheses are included within Other paren- theses. The reason of this is that when the parenthetical part is long, a great part of the sentence must he pronounced with an abatement of the voice ; and when parentheses are in- cluded within parentheses, the voice, in the endeavor to express the relations correctly, sinks too far for melodious efifect. . The following sentences are faulty in this respect : — " For we here see, that before God took any people to be peculiar to him, from the rest of men, the reason which he gives, why his Spirit should not always strive with man, in common (after an intimation of his contemptible meanness, and his own indulgence toward him notwithstanding, and instance given of his abounding wickedness in those days) was because ' all the imaginations of the thoughts of his heart were only evil con- tinually.' " — John Howe : Immg Temple. " Yet because it may be grateful when we are persuaded that things are so, to fortify (as much as we can) that persuasion, and because our per- suasion concerning those attributes of God will be still liable to assault unless we acknowledge him everywhere present ; (nor can it well be con- ceivable otherwise, how the influence of his knowledge, power, and good- ness can be so universal as will be thought necessary to infer a universal obligation to religion ;) it will be therefore requisite to add somewhat con- cerning his omnipresence, or because some, that love to be very strictly critical, will be apt to think that terra restrictive of his presence to the universe, (as supposing to be present is relative to somewhat one may be said present unto, whereas they will say without the universe is notliing,) we will rather choose to call it immensity." — Und. A very common variety of faults of this class occurs where, by the interposition of a long parenthetical clause, a just reading must throw an excessive stress on a portion of the sentence. Thus iu the following sentences, the subjects they, which, OF MELODY. 245 who, being separated from their respective verbs, require a heavy accent followed by a pause which destroys the melody. They, going about to work a righteousness of their own, are not wise. Which, as it standeth with Christian duty in some cases, so in common affairs to require it were most un£t. Who, aiming only at the height of greatness and sensuality, hath in tract of time reduced so great and goodly a part of the world to that lamentable distress and servitude, under which, to the astonishment of the understand- ing beholders, it now faints and groans. Exercises on the Oral Properties of Style. Name and correct the faults in the following extracts : — They conducted themselves wilily. Tranquillity, regularity, and magnanimity reside with the religious and resigned man. "Were really radically opposed. Usually falsely assigned. Usually specifically called. Extremely nearly. Giving being to abstractions. It was almost equally generally ad- mitted. It is generally sufficiently palpable. A most arbitrary requisition. Tediousness is the most fatal of all faults. Throughout it there is an air of matured power. Thou act'st the fool as it were natural to thee. He, though we must ever keep in mind that he does not represent exactly the language of his time, affecting a certain archaism both in words and forms, continually uses it. Andrfes; with a partiality to the Saracens of Spain, whom, by an old blunder, he takes for his own countrymen, mani- fested in every page, does not faU to urge this. The Greeks and Eomans certainly normally articulated the Grecian rough breathing and the Latin H. As the people were carrying by, down below in the street, an old man fast asleep, into whose strongly marked face the setting sun cast fire and life, and who was, in short, a corpse borne uncovered, after the Italian custom, suddenly, in a wild and hurried tone, he asked his friends : " Does my father look thus?" 246 ABSOLUTE PROPERTIES. " But the power of Greek radiance Goethe could give to his handling of Nature, and nobly too, as any one who will read his ' Wanderer ' — the poem in which a wanderer falls in with a peasant woman and her child, by their hut, bmlt out of the ruins of a temple near Cuma — may see." CHAPTER VII. OF THE SUGGESTIVE PKOPERTIES OP STTLE. § 272. The suggestive pkopeeties of style include those that are founded on the relationship between the sound and the thought, and those that are founded on the relationship between the object that represents the thought and the thought. The former may be denom- inated the Imitative, the latter, the Symbolical Properties of style. It was observed, in treating of the nature of language, § 245, that language is representative or suggestive in its na- ture in a twofold respect. In the first place, a sensible ob- ject is taken to represent the thought, if abstract, and in the second place, a sound or word is applied as indicative of that object, or of the mental state itself. Hence the ground of distinguishing these two varieties of suggestive properties. § 273. The functions of voice on which the Imita- tive Properties of style are founded, are those of quality and time ; pitch and force, except as the latter is con- nected with accent, not admitting any consideration in this department of style. § 274. Words regarded as sounds are imitative of three different classes of thoughts : (1.) Sensations of sounds; (2.) Other sensations analogous to those of sound ; (3.) Mental states analogous to these sensa- tions. § 275. All languages contain words which, in their 248 ABSOLUTE PROPERTIES. very structure as composite sounds, more or less per- fectly resemble in quality, as soft or harsh, etc., the sounds which they designate. Such are, in our own language, hiss, buzz, murmur, gurgle, dash, rattle. The following extracts are familiar exemplifications of the beauty and force imparted to style by the adaptation of the sounds to the objects represented. " The pilgrim oft At dead of night mid his oraison hears Aghast the voice of time-disparting towers, Tumbling all precipitate down-dashed Rattling around, loud thundering t» the moon." — Dyer. " Loud sounds the air, redoubling strokes on strokes ; On all sides round the forest hurls her oaks Headlong. Deep echoing groan the thickets brown, Then rustling, crackling, crashing, thunder down." Pope'B Iliad. § 276. Not only single words but the entire struct- ure of the sentence may bear a resemblance to the sound represented. " Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows. And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows ; But when loud surges lash the sounding shore. The hoarse rough verse should like the torrent roar." Pope : Essay on Criticism. " What ! like Sir Richard, rambling, rough, and fierce. With arms, and George, and Brunswick crowd the verse, Rend with tremendous sounds your ears asunder. With guH, drum, trumpet, blunderbuss, and thunder? Then all your muse's softer art display. Let Carolina smooth the tuneful lay. Lull with Amelia's liquid name the Nine, And sweetly flow through all the royal line." — Id. .- Sat. i. § 277. In so far as the sensations of sound resemble in their effects on the mind, or in other relations, those of the other senses, words, regarded merely as sounds, may be imitative also of such other sensations. In this case, the imitation is not direct, as in the case of OF THE SUGGESTIVE PROPERTIES OF STYLE. 249 sounds ; but only indirect, as it is not founded immediately on the qualities of the sensation, but on the relations. This analogy between the sound and the object represented greatly assists the impression to be made in the representation. Of the sensations susceptible of this analogous imitation in style, those of sight are the most common ; and of the latter class, those of motion. Here the imitation is more frequently effected by connected than by single words. The following will serve as exempli- fications : — " Deep in those woods the black-cap and thrush still hooted and clang nn- weariedly ; she heard also the cawing of crows, and the scream of the loon ; the tinkle of bells, the lowing of cows, and the bleating of sheep were dis- tinctly audible. Her own robin, on the butternut below, began his long, sweet, many-toned carol; the tree-toad chimed in with its loud, trilling chirrup; and frogs from the pond and mill brook, crooled, chubbed, and croaked." — Margaret. " While the cock, with lively din, Scatters the rear of darkness thin. And to the stack or the barn-door. Stoutly struts his dames before." Milton : L' Allegro. " Oft on a plat of rising ground, I hear the far-off cm-few sound. Over some wide watered shore, Smnging dovo tmih sullen roar." Id.: 11 Penseroso. " With easy course The vessels glide ; mikas their speed be stopped By dead cahns, that oft Mean these smooth seas, When every zephyr sleeps." § 278. Mental states, in so far as they may be con ceived of as analogous to the sensations of sound, maj also be imitated in language. The range of this species of imitation is very wide ; al- though the imitation is less direct and obvious than in the other species. As all those words in language which denote mental states as well as all abstract terms were, originally, expressive only of objects of sense, and could be transferred 250 ABSOLUTE PROPERTIES. to this abstract use only on condition of a correspondence between tbe world of thought and the world of sense, we might rationally expect that language would furnish frequent instances of this species of imitation. In point of fact, we find that in able writers the style is ever colored by the mental state. Anger, kindness, vehemence, gentleness, and the like, have each a language, a style of expression peculiar to themselves. And this peculiarity of expression is to be traced in the character of the language regarded as a com- plication of sound merely. The following wiU serve as illus- trations of this correspondence in the sound to the sense : — " In those deep solitudes and awful cells, Where heavenly pensive Contemplation dwells, And ever-musing Melancholy reigns." Pope : Eloise to Aielard. " With eyes upraised, as one inspired, Pale Melancholy sat retired, And from her mil'd, sequestered seat In notes by distance made more sweet. Poured through the mellow horn her pensive tone." Collins ! Ode to the Passions. " But 0, how altered was its sprightlier tone, When Cheerfulness, a nymph of healthiest hue, Her bow across her shoulders flung, Her buskins gemmed with morning dew. Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung, — The hunter's call, to Faun and Dryad known." — Ibid. " Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee Jest and youthful Jollity, Quips and cranks and wanton wiles, Nods and becks and wreathed smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek ; Sport that wrinkled Care derides. And Laughter holding both his sides ; Come, and trip it as you go, On the light fantastic toe ; And in thy right hand lead with thee The mountain-nymph, sweet Liberty." MUton : V Allegro. " Nor shall the wisdom, the moderation, the Christian piety, the constancy of our nobility and commons of England be ever forgotten, whose calm and OF THE SUGGESTIVE PROPERTIES OF STYLE. 251 temperate connivance could sit still and smile out the stormy bluster of men more audacious and precipitant than of solid and deep reach, till their own fury had run itself out of breath, assailing by rash and heady approaches the impregnable situation of our liberty and safety, that laughed such weak enginery to scorn, such poor drifts to make a national war of a sur- plice frabbh, a tippet scuffle." — Milton : Reformation in England. " As one That listens near a mountain-brook All through the crash of the near cataract hears The drumming thunder of the huge fall At distance.' ' Tennyson. To this class of properties may be referred the grammati- cal figures of alliteration and paronomasia ; the one a play upon the form of the word, — its orthography ; the other, 6n its meaning. These figures owe their peculiar beauty to the fact that in using them the speaker indicates a controlling reference to the nature of language as consisting of sounds, — the sound of the word suggesting the use of them. § 279. Alliteration is the repetition of the same letter in successive words ; as " Apt alliteration's artful aid." — Churchill. " The abundant Latin then old Latium lastly left." — Drayton. " Already doubled is the cape : the bay Receives the prow that proudly spurns the spray." — Byron. "Non potui paucis plura plane proloqui." — Plaulus. " Tite, tute Tati, tibi tanta, tyranne, tulisti." — Ennius. Alliteration was a chief element in Anglo-Saxon and the earliest English poetry. It was a law of the verse that at least one accented syllable in each of three successive meas- ures should begin with the same letter. Thus in the begin- ning of the " Vision of Piers Ploughman " : — " In a somer seson whan softe was the sonne, I shoop me into shroudes as I a sheep werre, In habite as an heremite unholy of werkes, Wente wide in this world wondres to here." It has continued to be a favorite element with all writers sensitive to sound, although not elevated to the rank of a rag- 252 ABSOLDTE PROPERTIES. ular constituent characteristic of verse-form. It abounds in Spenser, and also in some of our more recent poets. " But direful deadly black both leaf and bloom, Fit to adorn the dead and deck the dreaiy tomb." Faerie Queen. " She, of naught afraid. Through woods and wasteness wide him daily sought." — Ibid. " But welcome now, my Lord, in wele or woe ; Whose presence I have lackt too long a day; And fye on fortune mine avowed foe. Whose wi-athful ivreakes themselves do now allay." — Ibid. " Danger and death a dread delight inspire." — Sogers. " And fairy forests fringed the evening sky." — Id. " To muse with monks and meditate alone." — Id. " With treasured tales and legendary lore." — Id. In the same author we find it everywhere : " The heart's light laugh ; " " wildest wing ; " " Giants and Genii ; " " for- est feats ; " " startling step ; " " infant innocence ; " " weary ■wing ; " " wakes to weep ; " " that musing, melancholy mood." This figure is doubtless often unconsciously used by writers and speakers whose ears have become attuned to such as' sonances ; and if not excessive, is ever agreeable. It is also often elaborated with patient effort, as in the following verse composed in 1800, on the occasion of a gentleman by the name of Lee planting a lane with lUacs : — " Let lovely lilacs line Lee's lonely lane." Shakespeare ridicules pedantic alliteration in his " Holo- fernes " : — " The preyful princess pierced and pricked a pretty pleasing pricket." § 280. The Paronomasia is the use of words in connection that are different in sense but similar in sound ; as — " Fortune foretuned the dying notes of Rome, Till I thy consul sole consoled thy doom." — Dryden. " fortunatam natam, me consule, Romam." — Jnvenal. " Nam inceptio amentium non amantium." — Terence. OF THE SUGGESTIVE PROPERTIES OF STYLE. 253 The Pun consists in the use of a word in a double sense. It is sometimes regarded as a species of paronomasia ;- but it diiFers from it in this respect, that the play of thought turns more exclusively on the sense, while in the jiaronomasia the similarity in sound is the prominent characteristic. The pun has been abundantly decried as a low species of wit ; but it was formally treated by Aristotle and Cicero as legitimate and worthy of rhetorical consideration, and is found in our best modern authors. Used with moderation, and without show of labor and effort, it is an unquestionable ornament of discourse. It abounds in Shakespeare, and is sanctioned by the severe taste of Milton. " Lastly, he has resolved ' that neither person nor cause shall improper him.' I may mistake his meaning, for the word ye hear is ' improper.' But whether, if not a perBon,yet a good parsonage or impropriation bought out for him "would not * improper' him, because there may be a quirk in the word, I leave it for a canonist to resolve. " And thus ends this section, or rather dissection of himself, short ye will say, both in breadth and extent, as in our own praises it ought to be." — Milton. . In humorous discourse it naturally finds a more ready use ; as — " A second Thomas, or, at once. To name them all, a second Dans." — Hudibraa. "Hard is the job to launch the desperate pun, Kpun^dt dangerous as the Indian one." — Holmes. Very closely allied to this figure is the use of a word in different meanings in different relations in the sama sen- tence ; as — " Cold sprinkling hardens men and cabbage." — Richter. § 281. Words are symbolical when they designate sensible objects or scenes which symbolize or image forth the sense. Words generally, as before observed, are originally sym- bolical. This is true even of such as denote spiritual objects and conditions. Some sensible object or scene is taken as 254 ABSOLUTE PROPERTIES. the mirror of the thought to be conveyed. How the mind is enabled to discern a purely mental object or relation in this reflection, whether by some analogy of the scene or ob- ject to the thought, as, for instance, a similarity in the eifect upon the mind, or by association or otherwise, it is not necessary here to explain. It is sufficient to note the fact that sensible scenes and objects do reflect spiritual objects and states, as also abstract relations ; and especially when, as in language, the attention is set to discern the thought re- vealed in the symbol. The symbolism of thought is treated in detail in the author's " Art of Composition," Part VII., where are presented all the classes of symbols in discourse, with copious exercises in each, and the laws regulating their use. The peculiar force and beauty imparted to style by this use of words may be accounted for, in part at least, by several distinct considerations. First, this use of words is in accordance with the proper nature of language. Language, originally and properly, is not a mere collection of arbitrary signs, like those of algebra, which in themselves import noth- ■ ing. "Words are more like the diagrams of geometry, in which, without previous explanation, may be perceived the truth of the propositions which they severally exemplify. Although, in the process of language, it becomes more and more like algebraic signs and less and less symbolical and picture-like, it yet retains to a greater or less extent this original characteristic; and so far as. language is used in accordance with its primitive and uncorrupted nature, it pleases and impresses. Secondly, in this use of language, the imagination is directly addressed and put in play. The hearer fixes his eye on the sensible object or scene, and his imagination forms the picture of the thought. He thus becomes himself a creative artist ; and the forms, to which his own imagination gives birth, gratify at once the instinctive dotings of pater- nity and the love of originating, inherent in our nature. In- OF THE SUGGESTIVE PROPERTIES OF STYLE. 255 terpreting a mere language of signs, where words only stand for ideas, and do not represent them through sensible objects, is, on the other hand, a dull exercise of memory. If the language of modern civilization, in which science prevails over poetry, is more precise, more exact and unambiguous, it is yet less pleasing and less impressive than the rich imagery and life of earlier dialects. It is the high prerogative of an accomplished speaker to unite the precision of the modern with the vivid beauty and force of the primitive diction. § 282. In the selection of words with a view to this beauty of style, the more specific are to be preferred to the more generic. In the following extract from Mr. Sheridan's speech against Hastings, it will be apparent that, instead of the specific or individual objects which are so forcibly presented to the mind in it, and by which the sentiment is so vividly communicated, the whole thought might be as fully and accurately exhibited in more generic language, but the force and richness of the • expression would be lost : — " It is true he did not direct the guards, the famine, and the hludgeons ; he did not weigh the fetters, nor number the lashes to be inflicted on his vic- tims : but yet he is equally guilty as if he had borne an active and per- sonal share in each transaction." The thought would have been as ftdly conveyed if he had simply said : It is true he did not give out the orders for the arrest and the torture of his victims ; nor himself carry these orders into execution ; but yet &c. § 283. It is necessary, in securing this property to style, that truth to the actual object or scene used to symbolize the thought be strictly observed. This implies exactness in the particular representa- tions of an object, and congruousness in its parts if complex. In the following extract the mind labors to conceive the 256 ABSOLUTE PROPERTIES. representation in consequence of being unable to unite the incongruous features of the heterogeneous objects pre- sented : — " Though in their corrupt notions of divine worship, they are apt to multi- ply their gods, yet this earthly devotion is seldom paid to above one idol at a time, whose ear they please with less murmuring and much more skill than when they share the lading or even hold the helm." The following are examples of an opposite character in this respect, in which the sensible representation is exact and congruous throughout : — " For Truth, I know not how, hath this unhappmess fatal to her, ere she can come to the trial and inspection of the understanding : being to pass through many little wards and limits of the several affections and desires, she cannot shiiit it, but must put on such colors and attire as those pathetic handmaids of the soul please to lead her in to their queen ; and If she find so much favor with them, they let her pass in her own likeness ; if not, they bring her into the presence habited and colored like a notorious falsehood. And contrary, when any Falsehood comes that way, if they like the errand she brings, they are so artful to counterfeit the vety shape and visage of Truth, that the understanding, not being able to discern the fucus which these en- chantresses with such cunning have laid upon the features sometimes of Truth, sometimes of Falsehood interchangeably, sentences for the most part one for the other at the first blush, according to the subtle imposture of these sensual mistresses that keep the ports and passages between her and the object." — MUt(m. '* So is the imperfect, unfinished spirit of a man. It lays the foundation of a holy resolution, and strengthens it with vows and arts of persecution: it raises, up the walls, — sacraments and prayers, reading and holy ordi- nances. And holy actions begin with a slow motion, and the building stays, and the spirit is weary, and the soul is naked and exposed to temptation, and in the days of storm takes in every thing that can do it mischief; and it is faint and sick, listless and tired, and it stands till its own wei^t wearies the foundation, and then declines to death and sad disorder." — J. Taylor. A very common fault in respect of these properties is in attributing to an object properties or relations that do not belong to it. Thus De Quincey says : " The hoar of ages may have withdrawn some of these models from active com- petition." Withdrawing is not a congruous attribute of the hoar of ages. So in the sentence, " These perplexities de- pend for their illumination on the style," there is the same OF THE SUGGESTIVE I'ROPERTIES 01'' STYLE -257 fault of incongruousness in representing perplexities as sus- ceptible of illumination. Exercises on the Suggestive Properties. Point out and correct the faults in the following extracts : — '^ The seeds of a noble ambition were extinguished. ■ — ■^ There is a time when factions, by the vehemence of their own fermentation, stun and disable one another. The great Byron wept in faultless meter. " She was a very beautiful woman, of a noble spirit, and there was a dignity in her grief amidst all the wildness of her transport, which, methought, struck me with an instinct of sorrow, that, before I was sensible of what it was to grieve, seized my very soul, and has made pity the weakness of my heart ever since." — Steele. " Having been so frequently overwhelmed with her tears, before I knew the cause of my affliction, I imbibed com- miseration, remorse, and an unmanly gentleness of mind, which has since ensnared me into ten thousand calamities." — Ibid. " Mr. Shenstone was possessed of that warm imagination which made him ever foremost in the pursuit of flying hap- piness." — Goldsmith. " He views beneath him all the combat of the elements, clouds at his feet, and thunders darting upward from their bosoms." — Ihid. n CHAPTER Vin. OF THE GRAMMATICAL PROPERTIES OF STTLE. § 284. The Grammatical Properties of style may be distributed into three species, according as they respect Reforms of words, their connection, or their meaning. The departments of grammar which respectively treat of these several species are Etymology, Syntax, and Lexicog- raphy. Etymology presides over the words introduced into the language and the forms which they take ; syntax, over the arrangement and relations of words ; and lexicog- raphy assigns to them their meaning. The several species of the grammatical properties of style are founded, accord- ingly, on these departments of grammar, and derive from them their regulative principles. Inasmuch as these grammatical principles are fixed and imperative, the observance of them in style is indispensable. Hence it is more convenient to consider these properties in their negative aspect ; and to exhibit them not in the forms in which, as observed, they impart beauty to discourse, but in which, as they are disregarded, the discourse becomes there- ,. by faulty. Before illustrating the several faults against grammatical purity in style, it becomes necessary to ascertain the standard of purity. Numerous and weighty authorities determine this to be good use. The language of Horace is : — " Usus Quem penes arbitriura est et jus et norma loquendi." Quintilian only says use is the most certain rule : " Certis- sima regula in consuetudine." OF THE GRAMMATICAL riiOrErtTlES OF STYLE. 259 Dr. Campbell is earnest in maintaining^hat use is neces- . sarily the sole criterion. It has been before observed, § 246, that grammatical sci- ence is either abstract or historical. The laws of thought, on the one hand, and the laws of articulate sounds, on the other, impose certain necessary conditions on the formation of lan- guage. These laws being given, it may be determined be- forehand, to a certaki extent, what must be the properties of language, or, in other words, the principles of grammar. No use can be characterized as good that violates these univer- sal principles of language. But, again, there is such a thing as grammatical science, regarded as historical, and founded on inductive grounds* There are in every language certain general laws which con- trol and regulate its development. There are general prin- ciples of etymology and syntax, violations of which must be regarded as faults. It is true that sometimes the different principles that preside over the formation of language come in collision with one another, and thus grammatical rules fre- quently have exceptions. The principles of euphony, thus, frequently, occasion deviations from the common laws of derivation. So, likewise, more purely rhetorical or logical principles modify the operation of proper grammatical rules. Such exceptions are not, however, properly violations of the laws of language. Now no " use " can be allowed to trans- gress these general principles. If grammatical monstrosities by any mishap exist, a correct taste will shun them, as it does physical deformities in the arts of design. Back then of use we have both the abstract principles of universal language, and also the inductive principles of par- ticular languages, as guides and criteria of grammatical purity. By these principles use itself must be tried. Good use is, therefore, only a proximate and presumptive test of purity. While generally its decisions are authorita- ' tive, they admit, in their nature, of being questioned, and must themselves submit to higher authority. The expressions 260 ABSOLUTE PROPERTIES. " Xerxes his host " and " had wore " have had all the pre- scribed characteristics of good use, " reputable, national, and present." No good writer would now admit them into ele- vated discourse. We may accordingly lay down the princi- ple which regulates this matter as it is expressed in the fol- lowing section. § 285. The standard of grammatical purity is to be found proximately in good use ; but ultimately in the fixed principles of grammatical science, that is, in the principles of etymology, syntax, and lexicography. § 286. That use alone is to be regarded as good which possesses the following characteristics, namely, tliat it is national, as opposed to provincial and techni- cal ; reputable, or sanctioned by the best authors ; and present, as opposed to what is obsolete. § 287. Offenses against grammatical purity may be distributed in reference to their occasions into the fol- lowing species, namely, 1. Archaism, or obsolete use ; 2. Provincialism, or the use of what is not national, or is confined to a district or province ; 3. Idiotism, or the use which is confined to an indi- vidual ; 4. Technicality, or use peculiar to a science, a pur- suit, a sect, or trade ; 5. Alienism, or use derived from a foreign language. It is to be remarked that each of these species includes offenses against any of the departments of grammar, whether etymology, syntax, or lexicography. An archaism, thus, may either be a barbarism, solecism, or impropriety. § 288; A fault in respect to the settled forms of words, that is, an offense against the etymology of a lan- guage, is denominated a Barbarism. OF THE GRAMMATICAL PROPERTIES OF STYLE. 261 §.289. A barbarism may lie in the use of a radical word not sanctioned by the etymology of a language ; or in an unauthorized mode of deriving, inflecting, or compounding words. The English language admits mgre freely the introduction of new radical words than most other languages. Woi-ds of Latin or Greek origin it receives without hesitancy, and subjects them in the process of naturahzing to but trifling modifications. So common has this adulteration of the lan- guage been, that a barbarism of this species is hardly reck- oned a fault, and the preservation of a pure Anglo-Saxon style has consequently become a positive excellence. The following are barbarisms in respect to the use of WORDS NOT AUTHORIZED : Approbate, eventuate, heft, jeop- ardize, missionate, preventative, reluctate, repetitious, peek for peep, numerosity, finity, effluxion, inchoation, anon, erewhih, whenas, peradventure, obligate, memorize, bating, pending, hearken, excogitate, markedly, resurrect. Barbarisms in inflection : Stricken * for struck, het for heated, pled for pleaded, lit for lighted, proven f for proved, had n't ought for ought not, had rather have gone for would rather have gone, have drank for have drunk, have began, in- vinciblest, successfukst. • Barbarisms in derivation : Systemize, deputize, happify, firstly ioT first, illy for ill, hehooveful, securement, forgetable, indebtment. Barbarisms in cojipound words : SidehiU % for hiU-side, sundown % for sunset, fellow-countrymen for countrymen. ; pre-seeing, foredetermine, free-volitional, unfurlJirrsome, se- cundogeniture. Among barbarisms are to be enumerated unauthorized derivatives and compound words the parts of which are from * Poetic use. Many words are admissible in poetry wliich must be pro- nounced barbarisms in prose. t Technical use. X Colloquial use. 262 ABSOLUTE PEOPEKTIES. different languages. Many words of this class, chiefly Latin or French combined with original English or Anglo-Saxon words, are in approved use. Indeed, so thoroughly natural- ized are many aflBxes and prefixes, as well as stem-words of Latin origin, that they are freely joined with those of Anglo- Saxon origin. To the same stem we often find in fact affixes from both languages, forming pairs of words with slightly varying import, as rigidness, rigidity; nobleness, nobility ; humaneness, humanity ; laxness, laxity ; effeminate- ness, effeminacy; matronly, matronal. The general rule is to avoid hybrid compounds unless of undoubted authority. The same principle applies to phrases. "When there is liberty of choice, principal words and modifying words should be of kindred origin. Thus Macaulay writes " felicity of expression,'' although happiness is in itself, being of Anglo-Saxon origin, preferable. § 290. A fault in respect to the grammatical con- struction of the sentence is called a solecism. There are recognized four principles of sentence-con- struction, — two regulating the agreement in inflection and the arrangement of the words, and two regulating the kind and number of words to be supplied. 1. Grrammatical Concord, including agreement and government, requires the proper grammatical inflections in the use of words related to one another in the sen- tence. Instances of faults are : — The diversity of these two remarkable cases occurring so nearly at the same time and in such similar circumstances are yet very apparent. Whom do they calculate wiU be appointed? They could not prevent his name being brought before the convention. I knew it was them. The " Lives of the Poets " were written by Johnson at a later date. OF THE GRAMMATICAL PROl'ERTIES OF STYLE. 263 Tbe army were sick from fevers contracted by their long campaign in the lowlands. The jurisdiction of the higher and of the lower courts in this class of cases are concurrent. Good order in our affairs, not mean savings, produce great profits. Each of the four leading writers had their productions recited. The winter has not been so severe as we expected it to have been. Was he ever so great, such conduct would debase him. One of the most difficult and formidable parts of the Alps that is ever passed over by mortal men. It has generally been observed that the European popula- tion of the United States is tall and characterized by a pale and sallow countenance. Who ever thinks of learning the grammar of their own tongue before they are very good grammarians ? 2. Grammatical Arrangement requires the proper grammatical order in the use of both the principal and also the subordinate elements of. the sentence. In- stances of faults are : — Than the analogies just given I know of none stronger. Study to unite with firmness gentle manners. It was a case of unpardonable breach of trust and gross disregard of official duty, to say th(=! least. The good man not only deserves the respect but the love of his fellow-beings. In that event most of the buildings in the vicinity would have been undoubtedly destroyed. 3. G-rammatical Propriety requires the use of the proper grammatical element. Instances of faults are : — This is a very different case than that. 264 ABSOLUTE PROPERTIES. The general was attended with his staff. Such proceedings are nothing else but treason. No sorrow is so bitter but it can be mitigated by sym- pathy. They were arrived within three days' journey of the spice country. The works of Deity ; better, of the Deity. Vices in community ; better, in the community. 4. Grammatical Precision requires that the just number of words to express the thought be emplojed, and no more. It forbids excess and deficiency. The two opposite faults under this rule accordingly are 2}leonasms and ellipses. Faults are : — The business of the government engrossed the whole of his attention. He treated them with the most supreme contempt. We need not, nor do not, confine his operations to narrow limits. When he was retired to his tent, they sat silently a long time. Had he have laid low he would not have been wounded. The rich and poor are alike mortal. They may now bring themselves to a better end than ever France would have brought them. It is better to live on a little than outlive a great deal. She was really in that sad condition that her friend rep- resented her. There are principles in man which ever have, and ever will, incline him to offend. § 291. A fault in regard to the settled meaning of words, that is, an oifense a^inst the lexicography of a language, is denominated a Lexical Impropkiety. § 292. Improprieties are either in single words or in phrases. OF THE GRAMMATICAL PKOPERTIES OF STYLE. 265 I. Impkopeieties in Single Wokds. 1. Adjectives. " The alone principle," for " the sole principle." " A likely boy," for " promising." "This wilderness world." " He did not injure him any," for " at all." " The work was incident to decay,'' for " liable." " Such words were derogatory," for " degrading." " Obnoxious doctrines," for " hurtful doctrines." 2. Nouns and Pronouns. " The observation of the rule," for " the observance." " He was in a temper," for " bad temper " or " passion." " The balance of them," for " remainder." " At a wide remove" for " distance.'' 3. Verbs. " I admire to hear," for " I like to hear." " I admire that he should do it," for " I wonder," etc. " I expect he did it," for " suspect." " He does not fellowship with him," for' " hold fellowship." " I learned him the lesson," for " I taught." " He was raised in China," for " brought up.'' " Mr. L. supplied at Kingston," for " preached." " They calculate to go," for " intend." « There let him lay," for " lie." " The council was setting," for " sitting." « To/aS trees," for « to fell." " I reckon he did." " He conducts well," for f conducts himself." " It was predicated on other grounds." " The work progresses rapidly.'' " Such doctrines revolt us." " The proceedings of the cabinet have not transpired" for " been made public." " Property appreciates," for " rises in value." 266 ABSOLUTE PROPERTIES. 4. Conjunctions and Adverbs. " lAhe he did," for " as he did." " Directly they came, I went away," for " as soon as." " He was quite sick," for " very." " I feel as though," for " if." " Equally as well," for " equally well." " As old or older than tradition." " He is usually well," for " as well as usual." " Measurably rich," for " considerably rich." 5. Prepositions. " Averse from," instead of " averse to." " In comparison to," for " with." " In accordance to" for " with." " Militate with" for " against." « Confide on," for " in." " Independent on," for " of." II. Impe'opeibties in Phrases. Celebrates the Church of England as the most perfect of all others. I had like to have gotten one or two broken heads. It approaches nearly twice as near the sun as the earth is. EXEECISES ON THE GRAMMATICAL PROPERTIES. Name and correct the faults in the following extracts : — Indeed it would go hard but a Spaniard would make out a pedigree for his hero. It is yet more marked so day by day. Ending their game under another sky than had witnessed its commencement. Let you and I be happy. It is no good to watch for it any more. " We might ask with much more propriety at him the question which a reviewer asked at Carlyle." — GilfiUan. He calculates to return next autumn. OF THE GRAMMATICAL PROPERTIES OF STYLE. 267 The oligarchy of the royal council, of which he reproved the vices and resisted the selfishness. The opportunity of fame, of which the love is not the ex- clusive infirmity of noble minds, was placed, etc. The purpose of discovering the Mississippi^ of which the tales of the natives had published the magnificence, sprung from Marquette himself. Her uncle would be pleased for her to marry him. How noble is it in comparison to eloquent words without heroic insight. I expect that the ship had sailed. He was considerable of a musician. Newton has the glory of inventing the law of gravitation ; while to Davy belongs the glory of discovering the safety- lamp. We consider that the bank was solvent at the time. " Would soon give pleasure to and be required by the ear." — HaMam. " Known in our finity." — Id, " Nor had they partaken in the love of antiquity." — Id. " Koger Bacon has ever been supposed by some to have divined the method of its restoration, which has long after been adopted." — Id. " He is quite of another order of scholars from his prede- cessors." — Id. The historian considers no amount of courage and ability should win forgiveness for willful oppression. The name of Macaulay will have no lowly place in the long roll of English worthies. " A certain twinkle in the eyes of him." — GarlyU. " He was got poisoned." — Id. " Recognizable as one of the remarkablest of mankind." — Id. « We have said nothing of the Ascanier Markgraves, Electors of Brandenburg, all this while, nor in these limits can we now or henceforth say almost any thing." — Id. 268 ABSOLUTE PROPERTIES. "With all-its-in-that-day almost unexampled simplicity and naturalness, his [Cowper's] style is the very reverse of a slovenly or irregular one." — Oraik. " Squeezed out his eyes at such a rate as one could see nothing but the white." — Swift. "It was among the great misfortunes of Jack to bear a huge personal resemblance with his brother Peter." — Id. " In comparison of the former." — Addison. Elizabeth stood excommunicated of the Pope. With qualifications different to his. Nor doth vice only thin a nation, but also debaseih it by a puny, degenerate race. In that mighty struggle between the first intellects of this or any other country. " I confess myself to have one of those dull souls that doth not perceive itself always to contemplate ideas." — Locke. What an inferior creature is not the mussel clinging to the rock on the sea-shore, when compared to the May-fly rising on golden wings through the balmy air of spring ! One is just as abhorrent in the eyes of aU intelligent and Christian men as the other. " The baron looked eagerly round for some one at whom he might inquire the cause of this alarming novelty." — W. Scott. " Of whose judgment he had nearly an opinion as high as of his valor." — Id. The ostrich supposes by burying her eyes in the sand to avoid the huntsman's arrow. " I had some opinion of my son's prudence." — Goldsmith. " Mr. BurcheU dissuaded her with great ardor.'' — Id. " Let us not increase the hardships of life by dissension among each other." — Id. Most all the members had now assembled. It would not be safe to do it in almost any case. In many of his observations we cordially agree. OF THE GRAMMATICAL PROPERTIES OF STYLE. 2G9 The former is the true hypothesis of this subject. They adopted such an enormous multitude as entirely to innovate the condition of the country. Her mind was abnost distraught by the sudden reverse in her fortunes. I do not remember one regrettable passage in the letter. It is well worth all the labor it costs to resolutely be re- signed. The Thirty Years' Wax had the effect of uniting the most different people. He eats, sleeps, and shares aU the privations to which his men may be subjected. The commander of a division or separate brigade may ap- point general courts-martial, and confirm, execute, pardon, and mitigate their sentences. One, though he be excellent and the chief, is not to be imi- tated alone. The deserts are entirely barren, except where they are found to produce serpents, and in such quantities that some extensive plains are almost entirely covered with them. He was equally afraid to offend the Emperor, of whose power he had recently had so painful an experience, or the English king, whose support he desired to secure in case of future dangers. That ruling of the spirit which is needful to rightly meet disappointment, brings out the best qualities that can be found in man. It is much talked of by leading men of the necessity of changing the mode of proceeding. An assault was made upon his conjugal feelings by the sudden at. the moment, though from lingering illness often previously ejected, death of Mr. Burney's second wife. " Removing the term from "Westminster, sitting the Par- liament, was illegal." — MacauUm/. " We need not, nor do not, confine the purposes of God.' — Betvtley. 270 ABSOLUTE PROPERTIES. " I shall endeavor to live hereafter suitable to a man in my station." — Addison. " He behaved himself conformable to that blessed exam- ple." — Sprat. " I can never think so very mean of him.'' — Bentley. " The chiefest of which was known by the name of Archon among the Grecians." — Dryden. " The author is informed, that the bookseller has prevailed on several gentlemen to write some explanatory notes, for the goodness of which he is not to answer, having never seen any of them, nor intends it, tiQ they appear in print." — Swift. " Nor is it then a welcome guest, affording only an uneasy sensation, and brings always with it- a mixture of concern and compassion." — Fielding. " Base, ungrateful boy ! miserable as I am, yet. I cannot cease to love thee. My love even now speaks in my resent- ment. I am stUl your father, nor C3,n your usage form my heart anew." — Goldsmith. " But the temper, as well as knowledge, of a modem his- torian, require a more sober and temperate language." — Gihhon. " Neither death nor torture were suflBcient to subdue the minds of CargUl and his intrepid followers.'' — Fox. Each of these words imply some pursuit or object relin- quished. " 'T is observable that every one of the letters bear date after his banishment." — Bentley. " Magnus, with four thousand of his supposed accom- plices, were put to death." — Gihhon. "These feasts were celebrated to the honor .of Osiris, whom the Greeks called Dionysius, and is the same with Bacchus." — Swift. Whether one person or more was concerned in the busi-. ness was not ascertained. Those sort of favors do real injury under the appearance of kindness. OF THE GRAMMATICAL PliOPERTIES OF STYLE. 271 Every person, whatever be their station, is bound by the duties of morality and religion. He dare not do it at present, and he need not. Whether he will or no, I care not. We do those things frequently that we repent of after- ward. Many persons wiU not believe but what they are free from prejudices. " I am equally an enemy to a female dunce or a female pedant." — Goldsmith. " King Charles, and more than him, the duke and the Popish faction, were at liberty to form new schemes." — So- linghroke. " The drift of all his sermons was, to prepare the Jews for the, reception of a prophet, mightier than him, and whose shoes he was not worthy to bear." — Atterhury. " He whom ye pretend reigns in heaven, is so far from pro- tecting the miserable sons of men, that he perpetually delights to blast the sweetest flowers in the garden of Hope." — Hawhesworth. " The only actions to which we have always seen, and stiU see all of them intent, are such as tend to the destruction of one another." — Burke. " To which, as Bishop Burnet tells us, the Prince of Orange was 'willing to comply." — Bolinghroke. " The discovery he made and communicated with his friends.'' — Swift. " The people being only convoked upon such occasions, as, by this institution of Komulus, fell into their cognizance." — Id. " The wisest princes need not. think it any diminution to their greatness or derogation to their sufficiency to rely upon counsel." — Bacon's Bssays. " The esteem which Philip had conceived of the embassa- dor." — Hume. " The Christians were driven out of all their Asiatic pos- 272 ABSOLUTE PROPERTIES. sessions, in acquiring of which incredible numbers of men had perished." — Robertson. " I do likewise dissent with the ' Examiner.' " — Addison. " Dr. Johnson, with whom I am sorry to differ in opinion, has treated it as a work of merit." — Scoft. " The memory of Lord Peter's injuries produced a degree of hatred and spite, which had a much greater share of m- citing him, than regards after his father's commands." — Swift. You stand to him in the relation of a son ; of consequence you should obey hiin. It is no more but his due. The ship lays in the harbor. i " He wiU become enamored for virtue and patriotism, and acquire a detestation of vice, cruelty, and corruption." — Croldsimith. " Having been for a fortnight together, they are then mighty good company to be sure." — Id. PART 11. — SUB JECTIVE PROPERTIES. CHAPTER I. GENERAL VIEW. § 293. The Subjective Properties of style are those which are determined to discourse by the mental condition of the speaker. § 244. ^ Speech is the expression of thought, not as abstract and, so to speak, separate from the thinking mind, not of mere truth or of ideas, but rather of the thinking states of the living speaker. Just so far as it becomes the mere repre- sentative of abstract propositions, it sinks from its proper character and elevation. On the other hand, just so far as it is an expression of the thinking mind itself, partaking of its individual life and glow, it fulfills more perfectly its proper object, and consequently is more pleasing and more impressive. § 294. The mental condition of the speaker is de- termined by different conspiring influences ; as, — 1. By the natural and acquired characteristics of his own mind, whether common to all mind or peculiar to himself ; 2. By his physical structure and habits ; 3. By the relations which he sustains to those whom he addresses ; and, 4. By the particular subject and occasion of his dis- course. 18 274 SUBJECTIVE PROPERTIES. Mind has properties as mind ; and discourse as the ex- pression of mind must exhibit, more or less, these properties. There are only two, however, which demand particular con- sideration here. They are these, — that mind is a thinking activity ; and that it thinks continuously. The analogies of external Nature, which is ever multifari- ous and diverse, lead us at once to the conjecture that there are also native idiosyncrasies of mind ; that each thinking, like each material existence, has peculiarities of its own. At all events, in the development of mind under diverse in- fluences, there arises a great diversity of mental habite. The 'physical stnictwre has its influence, not only in deter- mining the mental habits and modes of thought generally, but, also, particularly in the framing of thought for expres- sion. A narrow chest and weak lungs reject long periods and vehement harangue. Further, the professioncd standing and official character of the speaker should be regarded in style. There is a proper dignity belonging to the pulpit; and the elevated and com- manding tones of the general would be ludicrous in the familiar discourse of colloquial equality. The subject, iikewise, and the occasion generally of the discourse naturally impress themselves on the mind of the speaker and leave on it their own peculiar characters. The style, consequently, ever shaping itself by the state of the speaker's mind at the time, should be modified by these out- ward circumstances. § 295. The Subjective Properties of style include those of Significance, Continuousness, and Nat- uralness. The first two of these properties are founded on the nature of mind itself. So far as discourse is an expression of mind, it must be significant or expressive of thought. Thought, moreover, is continuous. The mind,- and more especially when cultivated and disciplined, does not act by GENERAL VIEW. 275 sudden impulses in irregular, disconnected thoughts : the unity of its aim imposes on its movements the character of progressiveness and consecutiveness. The property of naturalness is founded on the individual- ity of thought as the product of one distinct mind peculiar in its native structure and its acquired habits, and influenced in its action by peculiar drcumstances of place and time. CHAPTER n. OP SIGNIFICANCE IN STYLE. § 296. Significance in style implies two things : — First, That the speaker have some thought to com- municate ; aifd, Secondly, That the words employed actually express some meaning. Sometimes a speaker has no desire to communicate any thought ; but speaks for some other object, as to occupy time, or to amuse or astonish his audience. This kind of discourse has been denominated spurious oratory. It sometimes happens, moreover, that through mere vague- ness or vacuity of thought a speaker or writer will use the forms of speech with no thought or sentiment expressed in them. Tliis kind of style is termed the nonsensical. § 297. SpuKiotrs Oeatoey, or discourse in which the speaker does not design to communicate any thought, is either, For the purpose of appearing to say something ; For occupying time ; or For entertaining his audience with words of lofty pretensions, but of no significance. The first species named is a kind of verbal or rhetorical sophistry, in which want of argument is disguised under the mere dress of words. The second is very coiBmon in deUberative bodies where. OF SIGNIFICANCE IN STYLE. 277 to prevent immediate action and delay a decision, a speaker occupies the attention of the assembly with the show of dis- cussion. The third is a species of rhetorical jugglery, and some- times appears even, in parts of grave and serious discourse, when vanity and love of applause, or perhaps a worse prin- ciple, lead to a sacrifice of the high end of speaking to the gratification of« a low personal feeling. § 298. The Nonsensical in style proceeds from vacuity of thought. The various species of it are the puerile, the learned, the profound, and the marvelous. Dr. Campbell, in his " Philosophy of Rhetoric," has ably treated of this part of style ; and has indicated at length the causes of it. The species enumerated are those described in his work. The following extracts will exemplify them : — 1. The Puerile. " If *t is asked whence arises this harmony or beauty of language ? The answer is obvious. Whatever renders a period sweet and pleasant makes it also graceful: a good ear is the gift of Nature ; it may be much improved but not acquired by'art. "Whoever is possessed of it will scarcely need dry critical precepts to enable him to judge of a true rhyth- raus, and melody of composition. Just numbers, accurate proportions, a musical symphony, magnificent figures, and that decorum, which is the result of all these, are unison to the human mind ; we are so framed by Nature, that their charm is irresistible. Hence all ages and nations have been smit with the love of the muses." — Geddes on the Composition of the Ancients. " The cadence comprehends that poetical style which animates every line, that propriety which gives strength and expression, that numerosity which renders the verse smooth, flowing, and harmonious, that significancy which marks the passions, and in many cases makes the sound an echo to the sense." — Goldsmith. 2. The Learned. " Although we read of several properties attributed to God in Scripture, as wisdom, goodness, justice, etc., we must not apprehend them to be several powers, habits, or qualities, as they are in us ; for as they are in God, they are neither distinguished from one another, nor from his nature or essence in whom they are said to be. In whom they are said to be ; for, to speak properly, they are not in him, but are his very essence or nature itself; which acting severally upon several objects, seems to us to 278 SUBJECTIV-E PROPERTIES. act from several properties or perfections in him ; whereas, all the difference is only in our different apprehensions of the same thing. God in himself is a most simple and pure act, and therefore cannot have any thing in him, but what is that most simple and pure act itseW — Beveridge' s Sermons. 3. The Profound. " 'T is agreed that in all governments there is an absolute and unUmited power, which naturally and originally seems to be placed in the whole body wherever the executive part of it lies. This holds in the body natural; for wherever we place the beginning of motion, whether from the head, or the heart, or the animal spirits in general, the body moves and acts by a consent of all its parts." — /^ 4. The Marvelous. " Nature in herself is unseemly, and he who copies her servilely and without artifice will always produce something poor and of a mean taste. What is called loads in colors and lights can only proceed from a profound knowledge in the values of colors, and from an admirable industry which makes the painted objects appear more true, if I may say so, than the real ones. In this sense it may be asserted, that in Rubens' pieces. Art is above Nature, and Nature only a copy of that great master's works." — Br. Piles. The nonsensical appears not unfrequently in translations in wMch the words and grammatical construction of the original are followed only in respect to the form ; and the particular thought of the author escapes attention. The following will serve for illustration : — " Let Rhetoric therefore be a power or faculty to consider in every subject what is therein contained proper to persuade." This sentence extracted from a translation of Aristotle's " Rhetoric " by the translators of the " Art of Thinking,'' conveys no meaning. Rhetoric is not a power or faculty to consider in any sense that can be attached to the expression ; and we can form no notion of what it is to " consider in, a subject what is contained in it." The following is another extract from the same work, and is liable to the same censure : — " Wherefore also Rhetoric seems to personate politics ; and they who challenge the knowledge of it, claim that knowledge partly through igno- rance, partly through an-ogance, and partly upon other human reasons; for it is a kind of particle and similitude of logic, as we have said in the beginning." The nonsensical in verse is well satirized by Pope in OF SIGNIFICANCE IN STYLE. 279 his " Song by a Person of Quality.'' The last stanza is as follows : — " Thus when Philomela drooping, SofUy seeks her silent mate, See the bird of Juno stooping. Melody resigns to fate." CHAPTER in. OP CONTINUOUSNEgS IN STYLE. § 299. CoNTiNuousNESs IS that property of style which represents the thought as connected and flow- ing. AH thought in a cultivated and disciplined mind is continu- ous, and consequently should be so represented in discourse so far as language will allow. There are limits, indeed, to the degree in which this property can he secured to style. When the mind is roused to a high pitch of passion, and the thoughts come strong and quick, language becomes too in- flexible and awkward to serve as its ready expression. Then the thought hursts out, as it best can, in dissevered fragments of speech. It leaps like the electric fluid from cloud to cloud, manifesting itself here and there at wide intervals of space. ■ And yet even then it properly maintains something of the appearance of continuousness, and does not ofiend the hearer by its violent leaps ; but by the very velocity of its movement prevents the notice of its successive radiations, and, like the Ughtning, gives to its separate flashes the effect of a continuous sheet of ligUt. Although, thus, strong, impassioned thought leads to a sententious style, and, therefore, such a style becomes highly beautiful, as natural and proper to it, the affectation of such a style when the thought is of the opposite character is ex- tremely disgusting. The speeches of Lord Chatham and Patrick Henry furnish abundant examples of a sententious expression which, as OF CONTINOOUSNESS IN STYLE. 281 warranted by the character of the thought, are fine illustra- tions of its nature and its proper function. The following are examples of a style faulty in this respect. The first is an extract from the Euphues of John Lyly ; from which romance the name of Euphuism has been derived for this species of style. This kind of Avriting is not uncom- monly combined with labored antithesis and affected quaint- ness of expression. A burnt child dreadeth the fire. Be that stumbleth twice at one stone is worthy to break his shins. Thou mayest happily forswear thyself, but thou Shalt never delude me. I know thee now as readily by thy visard as by thy visage. It is a blind goose that knoweth not a fox from a fern-bush ; and a foolish fellow that cannot discern craft from conscience, being once cozened. § 300. For expressing this continuity in the thought, language provides, — In the first place, a great variety of words designed for this very purpose ; Secondly, It allows the use of many forms for this object that are also employed for other purposes of speech ; and, Thirdly^ It admits of a peculiar structure of the sen- tence which is adapted to this sole end. How great an excellence this is in speech is shown at once in the fact that the human reason in the framing of speech has contrived and furnished so many expedients for binding discourse together^ which without them is. justly compared to " sand without lime." * It is one of the peculiar excellences of the Greek tongue that it abounds in such connectives, which, while they show the relations of the thought, at the same time give to the expression of it cohesion and compact- ness. Of proper connectives we have in language, — 1. Conjunctions of the different species, as copulatives, * Arena sine calce. — Seneca. 282 SUBJECTIVE PKOPERTIES. disjunctives, adversatives, conditionals, illatives, comparsf- tives, etc. ; 2. Relatives of all kinds, whether pronouns or such ad- verbs as CKCordingly, thus, etc., and adjectives of order and others ; 3. Forms of expression appropriated to this object, as " to continue" " to add" etc. In the general structure of the sentence, also, the property of continuousness or its opposite may be represented to a great degree. The length, the impUcation, and interdepend- ence of the parts, the arrangement of the several members, the imagery, whether derived more from individual objects or extended scenes, from particular features or connected parts — all these various aspects of the sentence may exhibit, more or less, the continuous or the fragmentary character of the thought. It should be observed, in this connection, that much wiU depend on the particular habits of the individual speaker whether his style will more naturally be continuous or sen- tentious and abrupt. Simplicity, earnestness, and directness incline more to short, disconnected expressions. Expanded views, fullness of thought, cautiousness, and wariness lead to a more extended, connected, and continuous style. Con- tinuousness is an excellence only when it is natural. A broken, abrupt, saltatory style, unless obviously determined by the character of the thought, never pleases long. Even the pithy sententiousness of Lord Bacon's style wearies. Strong thought may save such a style ; it is not commended by it. CHAPTER IV. OF NATURALNESS IN STYLE. § 301. Natuealness is a property which appears in style so far as it represents the particular state of the speaker's mind at the time of speaking. _ The other two subjective properties of style are general, being founded on the nature of thought. Naturalness is founded on the pecuhar mental condition of the individual speaker. Every one has his own modes of thinking. He has his own modes of viewing truth. His feeHngs have their own pecuhar characteristics. The same ideas, even, passing through two different minds, or through the same mind at different times and in different circumstances, become to a considerable degree modified in their character. Every one has, also, his own manner of expression. His range of words is peculiar. The structure of his sentences is peculiar. His forms of illustration, his images are pe- cuhar. Every writer and every speaker, thus, has his own man- ner. One is more diffuse, another more concise ; one more lean ^nd jejune, another more copious and luxuriant ; one is more florid, another more plain ; one more dry, another more rich and succulent; one more nervous or vehement, another more feeble or tame ; one more neat and elegant, another more careless and loose ; one more elevated and stately, another more familiar and free. The speaker's own manner best becomes him. While he is carefiil to avoid positive faults, and particularly those of excess, to vary and 284 SUBJECTIVE PROPERTIES. enrich with all the various excellences that can be admitted into his style, he should stUl preserve his own manner, as scarcely any thing is more offensive than a strained, affected, unnatural style of expression. For the purpose of forming a style, it may be safe to select a model and strive to imitate. This may, indeed, be recommended within certain limits and in strict subjection to certain principles. Even here, however, the better course is to study the different elements of expression or properties of style, and exercise on those especially in which there is consciousness of deficiency, using other writers or speakers remarkable for those proper- ties rather as exemplifications than as models for imitation. But when actually engaging in the work of conveying thought and feeling to others, the speaker or writer should banish from his mind all thought of this or that style or manner, and allow a free, spontaneous expression to his thoughts. Reason must, indeed, preside over all discourse. But its influence in securing rational discourse should be exerted rather in determining and shaping the mental habits,- and thus impressing its high character on every exertion of the mind while the life and beauty of spontaneous action is still preserved. This is, indeed, the end and object of all true intellectual discipline. Excessive care, at the time of constructing discourse, to preserve from every thing &Qlty, may be injurious. In writing, at least, it is better to write freely and correct afterward. In training, this freedom can be secured only by confining the study and practice to spe- cific elements and processes. Each should be practiced by itself,- tiU it shall be fuUy mastered and so cause no distrac- tion in subsequent practical efforts. § 302. Naturalness in style respects the person, the official character and standing of the speaker, and the subject and occasion of his discourse. § 303. The personal characteristies of style are de- termined either more directly by the habits of thought, / OF NATURALNESS IN STYLE. 285 however formed, peculiar to the individual speaker, or more indirectly by his physical habits. There is a singular beauty in that style which is the free and unforced expression of the speaker's own thoughts, with aU their peculiar characteristics. It must yet he ever borne in mind that low thoughts and low imagery, even although expressed naturally, must necessarily be offensive. It can- not therefore be too earnestly enjoined on the mind that is forming its habits and character to shun with the utmost care every thing that can vitiate its taste, debase its sen- timents, or corrupt the verbal and sensible material in which its thoughts are to einbody themselves ; and to cultivate assiduously, on the other hand, familiarity with aU that is pure and ennobling in thought and sentiment, and aU that is lovely and beautiful in language and in the various kinds of sensible imagery employed in expression. Both of these objects should be kept distinctly in view, namely, the purity and elevation of the thought itself, and the material which is used for embodying thought. Every man has, in an impor- tant sense, a language of his own. Both the range of words, and the sensible objects and scenes, as well as all the various means of communicating and illustrating thought, are, within certain hmits, peculiar to the individual. Hence arises the imperative necessity of care and labor in providing for a pure and elegant as well as a natural expression of thought by avoiding all low associations both of words and images. The physical condition and habits of the speaker have ntuch to do with his style. Speech is, materially, a physical effort; and must, consequently, be vitally affected by the condition of the body. Especially do the more proper vocal organs, or those parts of the body which are more directly concerned in speaking, exert an influence on style. The culture of the voice in elocution is, therefore, important to the highest skill in constructing discourse for delivery. In preparing such discourse the writer wiU ever, even if un- 286 SUBJECTIVE PROPERTIES. consciously to himself, consult his powers of utterance. Observation abundantly shows how a naturally imaginative and highly impassioned style may be gradually changed into one that is dry and tame by the continued -influence of the conviction of an inability appropriately to deliver strongly impassioned discourse. A conscious power and skill to express with effect the most highly wrought discourse wiU, on the other hand, ever be stimulating to the production of it. Indeed, the imagined eifect of his writing as pronounced by himself will ever control the writer in preparing thought for communication to others. He will not write sentences that he cannot pronounce, on the one hand ; and, on the other, he will be secretly prwnpted to write in such a man- ner as best to display his skUl in delivery. WhUe naturalness requires that discourse be a free repre- sentation of the speaker's own mind and character, it forbids all ostentation of peculiarities. This fault of mannerism is always exceedingly offensive. § 304. The offieial charade and standing of the speaker should ever so control style as that while it is not suffered to predominate in his attention at all over his subject or the design of his discourse, it yet shall prevent every thing incompatible with such official standing. The regard which the speaker must pay to his official standing and relations must be a controlling one ; and yet only in subordination to that which he is to pay to other things. Official propriety is only one, and a subordinate one, of those species of propriety whidi must appear in dis- course. \ 305. The subject and the occasion of the discourse, as they must affect strongly the mind of the speaker, will also leave their impressions on his style, in render- OF NATUEALNESS IN STYLE. 287 ing it more earnest and elevated, more stately and dig- nified, or more light and familiar. The distlECtion of the high, the low, and the middle styles of oratory recognized by the ancients was founded mainly on the subject and the occasion of the discourse. Other things, it is true, were regarded in the distinction, as personal pecul- iarities. Homer thus distributes the different styles among three of his leading characters.* Still, when the attempt was made by rhetoricians to determine the province of these separate styles, they generally fell back on the subject. Thus Cicero : " Is erit igitur eloquens, qui poterit parva summisse, modica temperate, magna graviter dicere." — Orat. 29. The following wiU serve to illustrate what different char- acter the occasion or the subject will impress on style even when the same thought is to be conveyed. Homer thus describes the morning : — " The saffron mom, with early blushes spread, Now rose refulgent ftom Tithonus' bed, With new-bom day to gladden mortal sight, And gild the course of heaven with sacred light." Butler, in his " Hudibras," thus describes the same scene : — " The sun had long since in the lap Of Thetis taken out his nap ; And, like a lobster boiled, the mom From black to red began to turn." Burke, in his speech on " Conciliation with America," was led to speak in the following terms of the rapid increase of population in the colonies : — " I can by no calculation justify myself in placing the number below two millions of inhabitants of our own European blood and color; besides at least five hundred thousand others, who form no inconsiderable part of the whole. This, sir, is, I believe, about the true number. There is no occa- sion to exaggerate, when plain truth is of so much weight and importance. * Ea ipsa genera dicendi jam antiquitus tradita ab Homero sunt tria in tribus ; magniiicum in Ulyxe et ubertum, subtile in Menelao et cohibitum, mixtnm moderatumque in Nestoro. — Gell. VII., 14. See also Quint. Inst Orat. II., 17, 8 ; XII., 10, 63, 64. Cic. Orat. 23-29. 288 SUBJECTIVE PROPERTIES. But whether I put the present numbers too high or too low is a matter of little moment. Such is the strength with which population shoots in that part of the world, that, state the numbers as high as we will, whilst the dis- pute continues the exaggeration ends. Whilst we are discussing any given magnitude, they are grown to it. Whilst we spend our time in deliberating on the mode of governing two millions, we shall find we have millions more to manage. Your children do not grow faster from infancy to manhood, than they spread from families to communities, and from villages to nations." Dr. Johnson, in his pamphlet entitled " Taxation no Tyr- anny," aiming at an entirely opposite object, to disparage the colonies, uses the following language in respect to the same point : — " But we are soon told that the continent of North America contains three millions, not of men merely, but of whigs, — of whigs fierce for liberty, and disdainful of dominion ; that they nrnUiply with the fecundity of their own rat- Uertnalcei, so that every quarter of a century doubles their numbers." PART III. — OBJECTIVE PROPERTIES. CHAPTER I. GENERAL VIEW. § 306. The Objective Properties of style are those which are determined to discourse by a regard to the effect on the mind addressed. § 244. The objective properties presuppose •the other two classes of properties, and are founded, in part at least, upon them. They differ, sometimes, only in degree ; as clearness, which is an objective property, may often be only significance in a higher degree, which is a subjective property. Energy, also, another objective property, presupposes harmony, an absolute property, as well as others of that class. But it may be necessary, however, for the sake of effect, often to regard those other classes of properties more than would otherwise be required by any consideration of the nature of style. But this objective use of language, for effect on other minds, requires some characteristics of style that are distin- guished from the absolute and subjective properties, not in degree merely, but also in kind. Many of the figures of speech, so called, for instance, are of this character. The circumstance that the objective properties presup- pose those of the other classes, and are founded in part upon them, will account for the fact that, in some cases, the con- sideration of the same property may belong in common to 19 290 OBJECTIVE PROPERTIES. different parts of rhetoric* There is, notwithstanding, an obvious and radical distinction between the classes. § 307. The Objective Properties are all in their nature relative, and must vary with the various charac- ter of the mind addressed. It is hardly necessary to advance any formal illustrations of the truth of this proposition. What is clear to one mind may be obscure to another. What is impressive and beautiful to one may be dull and dry to another. It is stiU to be observed that all minds have common properties ; and there are laws applicable to all alike, which control the exercises of the intellect, the feelings, and the taste. There are, consequently, principles of style which are founded on the general and invariable character of the human mind. Those characteristics which render a discourse clear to one mind will, to a certain extent, be requisite to make it so to every other mind. § 308. The Objective Properties of style are CLEARr NESS, Energy, and Beauty. It is obvious that in order to affect another mind to the highest degree by discourse, it must not only contain thought, — be significant — but also be susceptible of ready interpre- tation. It must be clear. In order, further, to a vivid effect upon the intellect and feelings, discourse must bear on its face the character of Ufe and vigor. The thought must be addressed in lively, glow- ing language. Discourse must be energetic. Once more, the same end of discourse cannot well be effected without regard to the aasthetic properties of the mind ; in other words, without regarding the taste of those addressed. Discourse must be in taste or heavtifid. * It may be proper to remark here, that in order to avoid umiecessaiy repetition, some obserTatious are made under one class of properties -which might properly fall under another. GENERAL VIEW. 291 These three properties are all which a consideration of the effect of discourse requires in style, exclusive of those which the nature of language and the mental condition of the speaker impose. § 309. Of the three Objective Properties of style, Clearness is, in order of importance, the first and most indispensable ; Energy is next in importance ; and Ele- gance last and lowest. (Jllearness is most indispensable, since if discourse is not understood, it cannot be felt. Just so far as it is unintel- ligible, it fails of its very end. Wherever, therefore, clear- ness comes into collision with energy, it should have the precedence. But yet, as clearness is a property that admits of degrees, and what is slightly obscure may be still intelligi- ble, although only with effort, a high degree of energy may sometimes be properly preferred to a slightly increased degree of clearness. Further, energy must be obviously regarded, in all proper Oratory, as of superior importance to elegance ; while, at the same time, it may be expedient to sacrifice a little energy to gain a high degree of beauty. The character of the discourse will, however, affect the relative properties. In explanatory discourse, where the object is to inform, clearness is decidedly the ruling property ; and its claims far outweigh all others. In conviction, energy rises relatively in importance, and may properly require some sacrifice of clearness. StiU more is this the case in excitation and persuasion. Passion, here, sometimes triumphs over reason ; and sympathy outruns argument. Wherever, again, vehement feeling enters into discourse, energy should strongly prevail over mere elegance. On the 'other hand, in gentle excitement of feeling, elegance is elevated, relatively, to a higher rank. CHAPTEE n. OF CLBAENESS IN STYLE. § 310. Clearness in style requires that the thought be so presented that the mind addressed shall appre- hend it readily and without labor. It is not enough that the speaker himself readily appre- hend the thought, or that the discourse be clear to himself ; or that it may be readily intelligible to a certain class of minds. Clearness, as a relative property of style, (§ 307,) requires that the particular mind addressed be regarded, and that care be taken to adapt the discourse to its capacity of apprehension. Nor, further, is it enough that even the mind addressed shall, on sufficient study and reflection, be able to make out the sense. The discourse, says Quintihan, should enter the mind, as the sun the eye, even although not intently fixed upon it ; so that pains are necessary not merely that the hearer may be able to understand it, but that he can in no way fan to understand it.* § 311. Clearness depends on a right consideration of four different things in discourse, namely : — 1 . The kind of words employed ; 2. The number ol^ words ; 3. The representative imagery ; and 4. The structure of the sentence. * Ut in animum ejus oratio, ut sol in oculos, etiamsi in earn nou intenda- tur, incurrat. Quare non, ut inlelligere possit, sed ne omnino possit non intelligere, curaudum. — Oral. Inst. [II., 2, 23. 24. OF CLEiRNESS IN STYLE. 293 § 312, The kinds of words to be preferred for the sake of securing clearness, are — 1. Such as are grammatical, in opposition to barbar- isms ; . 2. Anglo-Saxon words ; 3. Such as are not equivocal or ambiguous ; and, 4. Simple and specific, in distinction from the more generic. All the varieties of barbarisms enumerated in § 289, are to the popular mind generally obscure or unintelligible, just so far as not in use. It should be remarked, however, that whether barbarisms are clear or otherwise to a particular mind, depends on the circumstance of its having been familar with them or not. To the scholar, archaisms are not always obscure ; nor to the man versed in a particular art or science are the technicalities of that art obscure. They may be to him, indeed, the clearest of all classes of words. But so far as discourse is intended for the popular mind generally, all barbarisms should, for the sake of clearness, be avoided. When, on the other hand, the discourse is addressed to a particular class of minds, the words more famUiar to that .class are preferable as conducive to clearness. An address to sailors may, thus, consistently with clearness, abound with nautical terms. The following sentences are faulty in respect to the use of this species of words : — " Tack to the larboard and stand off to sea, Veer starboard sea and land." — Dryden's ^neid. "He that works by Thessalic ceremonies, by charms and nonsense words, by figures and insignificant characterisms, by images and by rags, by circles and imperfect- noises, hath more advantage and real title to the opportunities of mischief, by the cursing tongue." — ./. Taylar's Sermons. " God begins his cure by caustics, by incisions and instruments of vexa- tion, to try if the disease that will not yield to the allectives of cordials and 294 OBJECTIVE PROPERTIES. perflimes, fiictions and baths, may be farced out by deleterics, scarifications, and more salutary but less pleasing physic." — Id. Anglo-Saxon words, as belonging to the original stock of our language and constituting the truly vernacular part of it, so to speak, are more significant and intelligible to the Eng- lish mind than those of Latin or French origin, and are on this account to be preferred. Even radical words of Latin origin with Anglo-Saxon terminations are, often, more ex- pressive and clear than those regularly formed with Latin terminations. Hence, perhaps, it is we find so many hybrid terms in our language, such as Iwddness, passiveness, tar- diness, instead of lucidity, etc. It is to be observed, however, that in order to greater precision and exactness in the use of language, words of different stocks have become appropriated, respectively, to diflferent shades or applications of the general idea denoted by the original word. Words of Latin derivation have, thus, in many cases, been introduced for the purpose of denoting only one specific shade of the general meaning which is expressed by the proper word, both in the Anglo- Saxon and the Latin language. Hence, inasmuch as precis- ion is an element of clearness, a Latin word denoting such a particular aspect of the general idea may be more clear than the corresponding term of Anglo-Saxon origin. Thus the words human, humane, and manly have originally the same signification ; so also, journal, diary, and daily ; igneous and fiery. In such cases, the Latin word will often be found to be most perspicuous. Equivocal words are found in four different classes of words : 1. Primitives, to which use has somehow appropriated different significations, of which kind of words the number is considerable in all languages ; as coin, which signifies a corner or wedge, and also a die, or money stamped by a die ; helm, which denotes both a defense for the head and the in- strument by which a ship is steered. Of CLEARNESS IN STYLE. 295 The relative pronouns viho, which, and that are used both to limit and also to explain the word or words to which they refer. They are used in definitives or in epithet clauses, and are either definitive or explicative. They are definitive or determinative in the following : — The man that endureth to the end shall be saved. The remorse, which issnes in reformation, is true repentance. They are explicative, that is epithets, in the following sentences : — Man, who is bom of woman, is of few days and full of trouble. Godliness, which with contentment is great gain, has the promise of the present life and of the future. They are more or less equivocal in the following : — I know that all words which are signs of complex ideas furnish matter of mistake and cavil. 2. Derivatives and compounds ; as mortal, which has both an active and a passive sense, as in the sentence, "As for such animals as are mortal or noxious, we have a right to destroy them ; " consumption, as, " Your majesty has lost all hopes of any future excises by their consumption ; " and in com- pounds, overlook, as, " The next refuge was to say, it was overlooked by one man, and many passages wholly written by another ; " discharge, as, — " 'T is not a crime to attempt what I decree. Or if it were, discharge the crime on me." Bryden's JEneid. 3. Inflected words, or those which are equivocal in con- sequence of a similarity of inflection in different words ; as, " She united the great body of the people in her and their common interest ; " "I have long since learned to like nothing but what you do." 4. Words which, unequivocal in themselves, become equiv- ocal bff their connection in the sentence, as in the following instances : — 296 OBJECTIVE PROPERTIES. The argument is very plausible, certainly, if not entirely conclusive. The lecture was well attended and generally interesting. Equivocal words are either properly ambiguous, or homon- ymous. A properly ambiguous word is one which has come to be used in diiFerent significations, as, nervous, which means either of strong nerves or of weak nerves. Homonyms are words which, of a different origin, have accidentally assumed the same form, as mcbss, a heap, and mass, a Catholic religious service. Individual and more specific words are to be preferred to those which are more generic, because individual and specific objects are more easily apprehended than abstract and generic. § 313. Clearness, as depending on the number of words, requires the least number that will fcilly ex- press the thought. WhUe brevity in expression is thus favorable to clearness, as the mind more readily grasps what is presented to it in a narrower compass, still this principle is not to be accepted as of absolute and unqualified authority. While mere multipli- catiofl of words — mere verboseness — is opposed to clear- ness, expansion of the thought is not unfavorable, but often necessary. Brevity, thus, is opposed to clearness whenever — 1. Through want of copious and ample illustration, the thought is not held up sufficiently long before the mind for thorough apprehension ; or, 2. For want of completeness, the whole thought is not presented. Different minds differ much in regard to quickness of apprehension. The speaker should, therefore, inquire care- fully of himself, whether through natural dullness of appre- hension, or through want of familiarity with the subject, the mind addressed requires more or less time for contem- plating the thou^t in order to apprehend it ; and amplify or OF CLEARNESS IN STYLE. 297 expand it accordingly. He should, likewise, consult the state of the hearer's mind at the time. When the mind is excited and attentive, the apprehension is quicker than when it is duU and uninterested. In the more animated parts of the discourse, accordingly, greater brevity is admissible. It is then less necessary to amplify the thought — to carry out the expression to perfect completeness. Brief hints and suggestions may be sufficient to put the hearers in possession of the entire thought. Repetition is generally to be preferred to obscurity or ambiguity. Dr. Campbell exemplifies this principle by the following passage, in which the words his father are repeated three times without disagreeable effect : " We said to my lord, The lad cannot leav6 his father; for/ if he should leave his father, his father would die." The following sentences are faulty in this respect : — If he delights in these studies, he can have enough of them. He may buiy himself in them as deeply as he pleases. He may revel in them in- cessantly, and eat, drink, and clothe himself with them. How immense the difference between the pious and profane [instead of the profane]. § 314. The representative imagery employed for the communication of thought should, for the purpose of clearness, be derived from such objects and truths as are familiar to the mind addressed, and also be in itself susceptible of a ready interpretation. This element of clearness is founded upon the symbolical properties of language, § 281. From the very nature of language, regarded as symbolical or picture-like, it wUl be obvious that the symbol or picture itself must be known by the hearer or he cannot interpret it. Here the same obser- vations apply to some extent that have been already made in reference to words of popular use. While all minds may be supposed to be conversant with the great phenomena of Nature that daily exhibit themselves to the senses, yet even 298 OBJECTIVE PROPERTIES. these specifically differ in different parts of the earth. Hence the inhabitant of sunny Greece may readily understand language that pictures the thought and sentiment through images drawn from his own daily observation, which would be uninteihgible to one who dweUs under a colder and a cloudier sky. The representative imagery of the Bible was doubtless clear to the orientalist for whom more immediately it was written, wliile it is often extremely obscure and un- intelligible to others. A style that abounds in classical imagery is clear to the scholar, but unmeaning to the un- educated. The sermons of Jeremy Taylor, which employ this kind of representative imagery to a great extent, would entirely fail of effect, from their unintelligibleness, on a common audience. Those discourses, also, which, to an audience familiar with the Scriptures, are perfectly clear, we know from actual occurrences axe unmeaning even to an intelligent mind that has not been conversant with the Bible. Further, even when the mind addressed may be supposed to be familiar with the sources of the imagery, care is neces- sary to present it in such a manner as that it shall be easily intelligible. The following are exemplifications of offenses against these principles of clearness : — " They thought there was no life after this ; or if there were, it was with- out pleasure, and every soul thrust into a hole, and a dorter of a span's length allowed for his rest, and for his walk; and in the shades helow, no numbering of healths by the numeral letters of Philenium's name, no fat mullets, no oysters of Lucrinus, no Lesbian or Chiau wines. Therefore now enjoy the delicacies of Nature, and feel the descending wines distilled through the limbeck of thy tongue and larynx, and suck the delicious juices of fishes, the marrow of the laborious ox, and the tender lard of Apulian swine, and the coudited bellies of the scarus; but lose no time, for the sun drives hard, and the shadow is long, and * the days of mourning are at hand,' but the number of the days of darkness and the grave cannot be told." — J. Taylor.' " So neither will the pulse and the leeks, Lavinian sausages, and the Cisalpine suckets and gobbets of condlted buU's-flesh, minister such delicate spirits to the thinking man ; but his notion will be flat as the noise of the OF CLEAENESS IN STYLE. 299 Arcadian porter, and thick as the first juice of his country lard, unless he makes his body a fit servant to the soul, and both fitted for the employ- ment." — Id. § 315. Clearness, as depending on the structure of the sentence, is affected — 1. By the use of the relative words in it ; 2. By the arrangement of the different members ; and, 3. By the interposition of parenthetical clauses. § 316. Relative words may hinder clearness either by being too remotely separated from their antecedents, or by being of ambiguous reference. ■ The following are examples of this class of faults : — a. Too remotdy separated ; God heapeth favors on his servants ever liberal and faithful. 6. Of ambiguous reference ; * Lysias promised to his lather never to abandon his friends. Dr. Frideaux used to relate that when he brought the copy of his " Con- nection of the Old and New Testaments " to the bookseller, he told him it was a diy subject, and the printing could not be safely ventured upon un- less he could enliven the work with a little humor. Thus I have fairly given you, sir, my own opinion as well as that of a great majority of both houses here, relating to this weighty afiiair; upon which I am confident you may securely reckon. They were summoned occasionally by their kings, when compelled t their wants and by their foes to have recourse to their aid. He conjured the senate, that the purity of his reign might not be ^tain^ \ by the blood even of a guilty senator. He atoned for the murder of an innocent son by the execution perhaps of a guilty wife. * Keinhard in his Memmrs ami Confessions says, " I have always had considerable difiSculty in making a proper use of pronouns. Indeed, I have taken great pains so to use them that all ambiguity by the reference to a wrong antecedent should be impossible, and j'et have often failed in the attempt. . . . That it is difi&cult to avoid all obscurity of this kind I am ready to acknowledge. It can often be done only by completely changing the train of thought and casting it into another form." — Letter III., Boston ed. pp. 102, 103. 300 OBJECTIVE PROPERTIES. Their intimacy had commenced in the happier period, perhaps, of their youth and obscurity. We do those things frequently that we repent of afterwards. " Sixtus the Fourth was, if I mistake not, a great collector of books at least." — Bolingbrolce. " It is folly to pretend to arm ourselves against the accidents of life, by heaping up treasures, which nothing can protect us against, but the good providence of our Heavenly Father." — Sherhch. " Men look with an evil eye upon the good that is in others, and think that their reputation obscures them, and that their commendable qualities do stand in their light; and therefore they do' what they can to cast a cloud over them, that the bright shining of their virtues may not obscure them." — TiUoLson. " This work in its full extent, being now afflicted with an asthma, and finding the powers of life gradually declining, he had no longer courage to undertake." — Johnson. § 817. In respect to the arrangement of the members of a sentence, clearness requires — 1. That the parts of the complex thought be pre- sented in their relative prominence and dependence ; 2. That all modifying words and clauses be kept in close proximity with the principal words to which they belong ; 3. That the order be such as to indicate the depend- ence and connection. 1. Jielation of leading and subordinate thoughts. This re- lation is not regarded in the following sentences : — After we came to anchor, they put me on shore, where I was welcomed by all my friends, who received me with the greatest kindness. In this sentence it is difficult to tell which is the leading thought, or on which circumstance the writer intended to fix the attention of his readers. The unity of the sentence, by the failure to express the due subordination of the parts, is destroyed. The same fault is seen in the following sen- tences : — " The usual acceptation takes profit and pleasure for two different things, and not only calls the followers or votaries of them by several names of busy and idle men, but distinguishes the faculties of the mind that are con- OF CLEARNESS IN STYLE. 301 versant about them, calling the operations of the first wis'dom, and of the other vAt, which is a Saxon word, that is used to express what the Span- iards and Italians call ingenio, and the French esj^int, both from the Latin ; but I think wit more peculiarly signifies that of poetry, as may occur upon remarks on the Runic language." — Temple. " He is supposed to have fallen, by his father's death, into the hands of his uncle, a vintner, near Charing Cross, who sent him for some time to Dr. Busby, at Westminster I but, not intending to give him any education beyond that of the school, took him, when he was well advanced in literature, to his own house, where the Earl of Dorset, celebrated for patronage of genius, found bim by chance, as Burnet relates, reading Horace, and was so well pleased with his proficiency, that he undertook the care and cost of his academical education." — Johnson's Life of Prim: 2. Proximity of related elements. The following sentences offend against this principle of clearness : — The moon was casting a pale light on the numerous graves that were scattered before me, as it peered above the horizon, when I opened the small gate of the church-yard. There will, therefore, be two trials in this town at that time, which are punishable with death, if a full court should attend. Mr. Dryden makes a very handsome observation on Ovid's writing a letter from Dido to .tineas, in the following words. 3. Order of dependence. In the following sentences it is difficult to determine which is the subjec.t and which the ob- ject of the the verb : — And thus the son the fervent sire addressed. The rising tomb a lofty column bore. In the following, the dependence of the italicized clause is obscurely represented : — As it is necessary to have the head clear as well as the complexion, to he perfect in this part of learning, I rarely mingle with the men, but fl-equent the tea-tables of the ladies. In the following sentence, obscurity is occasioned by the position of the relative word before its antecedent : — When a man declares in autumn, when he is eating them, or In the spring, when there are none, that he loves gropes. • § 318. Clearness is often violated by the introduction of long parenthetical clauses, and especially of paren- theses containing other parentheses within themselves. 302 OBJECTIVE PROPERTIES. The writings of the Apostle Paul, which are characterized more by energy than by clearness, are remarkable for this introduction of long and involved parentheses. A remark- able instance occurs in his Epistle to the Ephesians. The sub- ject of the verb is in the first verse of the third chapter, the verb itself in the first verse of the fourth. The following extracts furnish further exempMcations of the same fault : " It -was an ancient tradition, that when the capitol was founded by one of the Roman Kings, the god Terminus, who presided over boundaries, and was represented according to the fashion of that age, by a large stone, alone, among all the inf^or deities, refused to yield his place to Jupiter himself" — Gibhori's Rome. " The description Ovid gives of his situation, in that first period of his ex- istence, seems, some poetical embellishment excepted, such as, were we to reason apriori, we should conclude he was placed in." — Lancaster on Deli- cacy. CHAPTER in. OF ENEKGT IN STYLE. § 319. Energy is that property in style by means of which the thought is impressed with a pecuHar vivid- ness or force on the mind addressed. This property of style has been variously denominated, as vivacity, strength, and energy ; all which terms, from their etymology, point at once to the natm'e of the property desig- nated by them. For the sake of clearness it will be convenient to consider this property in respect to its two species; as secured to style in accordance with the other properties, or only by a cer- tain deviation from these properties. See § 306. § 320. Energy is either proper or figurative. Proper Energy is secured to style in accordance with the other properties ; Figurative Energy, by a greater or less deviation from them. Without going out of the range of the other properties enumerated, it is obvious style may be more or less modified in accordance with their principles with a view to energetic effect. Such modifications, made with a view to such a vivid impression, come properly into consideration under the head of energy. But discourse admits of modifications with a view to energy, which are not properly dictated by any principles that belong to these other properties. It is often turned from OBJECTIVE PKOPERTIES. irection in wMch it would flow if those properties alone coniroUed it. The verbal expression of thought, as thus turned from its natural course, is termed figurative expres- sion. § 321. Proper Energy, like Clearness, depends on the kind and number of words employed, the representa- tive imagery, and the structure of the sentence. § 322. Energy requires, in respect to the hinds of words employed, that — Those of Anglo-Saxon origin be preferred to others ; Those of national and popular use to barbarisms, whether foreign or technical ; and. The more specific to the more generic and abstract. It is unnecessary to add to the remarks already made under the head of Clearness, § 312, in order to illustrate the truth and importance of this principle of style. It is suffi- cient to observe here that style admits of great modifications in respect to the kind of words habitually employed by the speaker, and that even great energy of thought may be lost in the selection of words that are wanting in this element of expression. It cannot, therefore, . be too earnestly enjoined on the forming speaker to study those authors assiduously who are distinguished for their use of Anglo-Saxon, the strictly vernacular, and the specific words of our language. It will generally be found that the same taste and the same training which have led to the habitual preference of one of these classes of words, have made, also, the others most famil- iar and pleasing. Care should be taken to make these classes of words form the body of sound, — the material in which the thoughts most easily and spontaneously invest themselves. That this is practicable is j)roved by the fact that men learn universally to think in the language which is spoken around them. As we have authors who are characterized by this excellence and others who abound in Latin and French OF ENERGY IN STYLE. 805 words and idioms, it is obvious the former should be habit- ually studied and committed to memory, while the others should be left for maturer reading. Conversation generally prefers Anglo-Saxon words. Even Dr. Johnson himself, in the familiarity and earnestness of his ordinary conversation, employed Anglo-Saxon words, which in his written discourse he unhappily translated into a Latinized dialect.* Hence the study of language as employed in common life is highly use- ful to the orator in this respect. § 323. In respect to the number of words, the prin- ciple of energy is, that the utmost brevity consistent with clearness and with the other principles of energy, be preserved. In the application of this principle, not only redundant words and phrases are to be avoided, but also, the more di- rect and simple forms of expression are to be preferred to the more circuitous and prolix. Hence, often, the sentence should be whoUy recast. The following sentences are faulty in respect to this prin- ciple : — I went home full of a great many serious reflections. I shall suppose, then, in order to tiy to account for the vision without a miracle, that as Saul and his company were journeying along in their way to Damascus, an extraordinary meteor really did happen. Neither is any condition of life more honorable in the sight of God than another; otherwise he would be a respecter of persons, which he assures us he is not. It wUl oftea_be greatly conducive to the energetic effect * Macaulay, in an article' in the Edinburgh Beview for 1831, gites the following exemplifications. In one of Johnson's familiar letters he says " When we were taken np-stairs, a dirty fellow bounced out of the bed on which one of us was to lie." He records this incident in his Journey to the Hebrides thus ; " Out of one of the beds on which we were to repose, started np at our entrance, a man black as a Cyclops from the forge." Sometimes he translated aloud. " Tlie Rehearsal," he said, " has not wit enough to keep it sweet;" then, after a pause, "it has not vitality enough to preserve it from putrefaction." 20 306 OBJECTIVE PROPERTIES. of the whole expression, after having presented the thought for the sake of clearness in a more extended form, to repeat it in a more condensed sentence. The following extract from Burke will furnish an exem- plification : — " When the old feudal and cmvalrous spirit of fealty^ which, by freeing kings from fear, freed both kings and subjects from the precaution of tyr- anny, shall be extinct in the minds of men, plots and assassinations will be anticipated by preventiye murder and preventive confiscation, and that long.rollof grim and bloody maxims", which form the political code of all poT^erJ^not standing on its own honOT, and the honor of those who are to obey it. Kings wUl be tyraras from policy, when subjects are rebels from principle." '~"' § 324. Energy requires the freest use of proper representative imagery. No principle of proper energy is more important than this. Yet after what has been said on this element of style under the heads of Symbolical Properties, §§ 281-284, and Clearness, § 314, little need be added either to illustrate its proper character or its claims to distinct and thorough study. Effective oratory depends more, perhaps, than on any other element, on the free use of sensible images, representing ab- stract objects or truth to the imagination through concrete objects and scenes. In his " Art of Composition, or Proper Bentence Construction," the author has classified the various kinds of symbols of thought, and presented the principles that govern them with copious exercises. The training in style tW» rudimentaUy commenced ;should be prosecuted by the dil- igent study of the best orators and poets, for the special purpose of acquiring a command of imagery. In tids study the imagery employed should be marked, reduced to its class, worked into the memory, impressed every way on the form- ing mind. There should be connected with this the diUgent, habitual study of sensible objects and scenes as imaging thought. The writings of Jean Paul Richter, who made this study of natural imagery a special object, are worthy of a OF ENERGY IN STYLE. 307 careful study with reference to this property of stjle.yThe books of Job, of the Psalms, and of Isaiah, are also charac- terized by it. The following are exemplifications of this species of Energy : — " But while I expected in his daring flight his final ruin and fall, behold Mm rising still higher, and coming down souse upon both houses of parlia- ment. Yes, he did make you his quarry, and you still bleed from the wounds of his talons. You crouched, and still crouch, beneath his rage." — Burke. " I have not allowed myself, sir, to look beyond the Union, to see what^ might lie hidden in the dark /ecess behind. 1 have not coolly weighed the" chances of preserving liberty, when the bonds that unite us together shall ^ be broken asunder. I have not accustomed myself to hang over the preci- ^ pice of disunion, to see whether, with my short sight, I can fathom the depth -- of the abyss below." — Wdister. " When the soul, resting as it were under the willows of exile, breathes out ^ its longing for its distant home, what else but melancholy can be the key- note of its song ? " — A. W. Schhgel. *' If a man meets with inj ustice, it is not required that he shall not be roused to meet it ; but if he is angrj' after he has had time to think upon it, that is sinful. The flame is not wrong, but the coals are." — H. W. Beecher. " The world is not a platform where you will hear Thalberg piano-playing. It is a piano manufactory, where are dust, and shavings, and rasps, and sand-papers. The perfect instrument and the mnsic will be hereafter." — Id. " Because they cannot bail out the ocean with the hollow of their hand, the ocean becomes to them a thing of doubtful existence." " The wound of conscience is no scar ; Time cools it not with his wing, but ! merely keeps it open with his scythe." — Richter. ' " In the burning-glass and magnifying-mirror of consequences, fate shows us the light, playing worms of our inner man as grown-up and armed fii- rieg and serpents." — Id. " His hours were no more harmoniously sounded out by the chime of love and poesy, but monotonously by the steeple-clock of every-day routine." — Id. § 325. Energy, in the structure of the sentence, de- pends, — First, On the preservation of unity in the general form of the sentence ; Secondly, On the right disposition of the capital words and members ; and, 308 OBJECTIVE PROPERTIES. Thirdly, On the disposition of coordinate or correla- tive words or members. § 326. Unity in a sentence is preserved by the pres- entation of but one leading subject, § 317, and by the binding together of all the parts in one compact whole. The first element of unity here mentioned — singleness of leading subject — has been sufficiently considered under the head of clearness. The second — compactness — appears in style in the peri- odic structure, § 269, in which the leading member of the sentence, being placed last, binds the whole together into one compact whole. The following are examples of the periodic structure : — While all the Pagan nations consider Religion as one part of Virtue, the Jews, on the contrary, regard Virtue as a part of Religion. " For as guilt never rose from a true use of our rational faculties, so it is very frequently subversive of them. God forbid that prudence, the first of all the virtues, as well as the supreme director of them all, should ever be employed in the service of any of the vices." — SnrTce. " There is something in the present business, with all that is horrible to create aversion', so vilely loathsome as to excite disgust. It is, my lords, surely superfluous to dwell on the sacredness of the ties, which those aliens to feeling, those apostates to humanity thus divided. In such an assembly as the one before yhich I speak, there is not an eye but must look reproof to their conduct ; — not a heart but must anticipate its condemnation." — Sheridan. I § 327. The most conspicuous parts of the sentence / being the commencement and the close, these parts should, when energy of expression is aimed at, be given to the capital or leading words and members. This principle forbids commencing or closing a sentence with circumstantial words or clauses, unless it is desired to ( give them an emphatic distinction. In merely didactic dis- ' course, such clauses are admissible because they often con- duce to clearness and readiness of apprehension. In earnest oratory they can never be justified except, as has been just OF ENERGY IN STYLE. 309 observed, when they are made emphatic. In this case, plac- ing them at the beginning or the close at once gives them a high degree of force and impressiveness. - --- " "We find in the Latin language a happy exemplification of this principle of energy. When Mucius ScaBvola in Livy wishes to turn the attention of Porsenna on the fact that he was a Roman, he says, Roinanus sum 'civis. On the ether hand, when Gavins in Cicero's Oration against Verres was urging his rights as a citizen, not merely as a Roman, he says, CXvis Romanus sum. Although the words are the same, the leading thought being different in the two cases, Livy places one word at the beginning of the sentence, and Cicero another; and both clearly from mere reference to energetic effect. The following sentences are faulty in this respect : — The other species of motion are incidentally blended also. Every nature you perceive is either too excellent to want it, or too base to be capable of it. Seeing the delay of repentance doth mainly rely upon the hopes and encouragement of a future repentance, let us consider a little how unreason- able these hopes are, and how absurd the encouragement is which men take irom them. " But it is absurd to think of judging either Ariosto or Spenser by pre- cepts which they did not attend to." — Watson. " There need no more than to make such a registry only voluntary, to avoid all the difficulties that can be raised, and which are not too captious or too trivial to take notice of." — Temple. " In like manner, if a person in broad daylight were falling asleep, to introduce a sudden darkness would prevent his sleep for that time, though silence and darkness in themselves, and not suddenly introduced, are very favorable to it. This I knew only by conjecture on the analogy of the senses when I first digested these observations; but I have since expe- rienced it." — Surke. The foUowing extracts, on the other hand, furnish in- stances of this kind of energy : — In their prosperity my friends shall never hear of me ; in their adversity, True liberty, in my opinion, can only exist when justice is equally ad- minstered to all, to the king and to the beggar. 310 OBJECTIVE PROPERTIES. Never, so clearly as in the present instance, have I observed that safe- guard of justice which Providence has placed in the nature of man. No : I am no emissary — my ambition was to hold a place among the deliverers of my country — not in power, not in profit, but in the glory of the achievement! Sell my country's independence to France! and for what ? A change of masters ? No : but for ambition ! Under this species of energy may be ranked what has beerf denominated the Climax ; or that structure of thfe sen- tence in which the different members succeed each other in order of strength or importance, the most impressive being placed last. The following are examples : — In the middle of the day, at -the moment of divine worship, when the miserable husband was on his knees, directing the prayers and the thanks- giviog of his congregation to their God — that moment did the remorse- less etc. Impose upon me whatever hardships you please; give me nothing but the bread of sorrow to eat ; take from me the friend in whom I had placed my confidence ; lay me in the cold hut of poverty and on the thorny bed of disease ; set before me death in all its terrors ; do all this, only let me trust in my Saviour, and I will fear no evil — I will rise superior to affliction — I will r^oice in my tribulation. § 328. In the arrangement of the sentence, further, coordinate and correlative words and members should be placed in corresponding parts, so as to answer to each other and reflect on each other, so to speak, their own force. The Latin and Greek languages, through the variety of their inflections, admitted this species of energy to a much greater degree than most modern tongues. Cicero says that the following expression drew forth wonderful applause from the audience : — " Patris dictum sapiens, temeritas filii comprobavit." * * Orator, 63. Hoc dichoreo tantus clamor concionis excitatus est, ut admirabile est. If the double trochee at the close had its effect, it is yet questionable whether the energy of the expression is not owing still more to the admirable arrangement of th^ words, which are made most perfectly OF ENERGY IN STYLE. 311 The following are from his orations ; the first from that for Ligarius, the second from the oration for Roscius Ameri- nus: — " Nihil Iiabet nee fortuDa tna majus quam ut possis, nee natura tua melius qnam ut relis, conservare plurimos." "Accusant ii, quibus occidi patrem Sexti Roscii bono fuit; causam dicit is, cui non modo luctum mors patris attulit, venim etiam egestatem. Accu- sant ii, qui bunc ipsnm jugulate summe cupierunt; causam dicit is, qui etiam ad hoc ibidem ante oculos vcstros trucidetur." In our own language, the following sfentences may be given as illustrations : — Never before were so many opposing interests, passions, and principles committed to such a decision. On one side an attachment to the ancient order of things, on the other a passionate desire of change ; a wish in some to perpetuate, in others to destroy every thing ; every abuse sacred in the eyes of the former, every foundation attempted to be demolished by the latter; a jealousy of power shrinking from the slightest innovation, pre- tensions to freedom pushed to madness and anarchy; superstition in all its dotage, impiety in all its fury. Sullen and severe without religion, profligate without gayety, you live like Charles the Second, without being an amiable companion; and, for aught I know, may die, as his father did, without the reputation of a martyr. § 329. As frequently it may be desired to. weaken and soften rather than to strengthen the expjpssion, this object may be effected, for the most part, by means just the reverse of those whiclt have been pre- scribed for imparting energy. The English language, from the very heterogeneousness of its origin, allows, more than most other languages, this to answer to each other. "Patris" and "fliii" are at the extremes; " sapiens" and "temeritas" in the middle in juxtaposition, and the one at the close, the other at the commencement of the respective members to which they belong; and the unrelated word "dictum " thrown as far as possible out of view. The whole sentence is bound together by the verb, which, as the most important word, occupies the last place in the sentence. We have, besides, the inversion of the object before the subject. To all this is to be added the harmony of the whole. There is here a combina- tion of many excellences of style. 312 OBJECTIVE PROPERTIES. variation in the degrees of energy. The same object may- be represented by a skillful orator in the strongest vividness and force or in the most indifferent tameness, simply by means of a different selection from those words which are grammatically proper to the object. Here belong those expressions usually denominated Ewphemisms, which are employed to soften or weaken the impression made by the more appropriate representation. Here, also, belongs the anti-climax. The following are exemplifications : — 1. In the kind of words : The toast concludes with a patriotic wish for all his persuasion, by the consummation of which there can be no doubt the hempen manufactures of this country would experience a very considerable consumption. For when the restless Greeks sat down So many years, before Troy town, And were renowned, as Homer writes, For well-soled boots, no less than fights. Often a very small matter takes away the mark of that beast whose name shall not be mentioned here. 2. Jn the number of words : " They did that which every master would have wished his servants to do in such an exigency: " instead of, " They killed Clodius." ' 3. In the arrangement of words : Parturiunt montes, nascetur ridiculus mus. § 330. Figurative energy is founded either, — 1. On the kind and number of words employed ; 2. On the representative imagery ; or, 3. On the structure of the sentence. The most strictly philosophical treatment of figurative energy, as well as of clearness, would represent it in the light of the absolute and subjective properties of style, and foUow the method furnished by the analysis of those proper- ties. But both to prevent repetition and for convenience and simplicity, it may, perhaps, better be exhibited under the three heads named above. OF ENERGY IN STYLE. 313 § 331. Those forms of figurative energy which de- pend on the kind of words employed, are denominated Tropes, which may he defined as follows : — A Trope is a word employed for the sake of energy in a different import from that which is proper to it. It is obvious to remark that tropes are figurative uses of the proper import of words. A tropical impropriety is de- nominated a eatachresis. A trope presupposes two objects which when compared resemble each other in some respect. The name appropriated to the one is used to denote the other object. A trope is thus, as its name imports, a turn or change in the use of a word. § 332. Tropes impart energy to style by represent- ing the object in a more individual or sensible form than the proper denomination of it ; and thus bringing it more impressively before the imagination, as scepter instead of dominion; Homer instead of the Homeric poems; Britain instead of the government of Great Britain. § 333. Tropes may be distributed into two classes according as they are founded on a resemblance of properties, or a resemblance of relations. The former class may be denominated simple tropes ; the latter are called metaphors. AH tropes are founded on resemblance, or, more philosoph- ically speaking, on a more or less perfect identity. This partial identity or resemblance can always be traced even in the most remote cases. When we say, thus, " The crescent wanes," instead of, " The Mohammedan power declines," we first conceive of the flag of that power from its characteristic symbol ; and then of the power itself from the flag which represents it ; and in both cases the conception is founded 314 OBJECTIVE PROPERTIES. on a species of local identity. The place of the crescent is in the flag ; and of the flag with the presence of the power or authority." Without this identity, the mind has no power to conceive of the object represented. K the identity re- spect only one or two obscure particulars, or, in other words, if the resemblance be but faint and dim, the trope is cata- chrestic — harsh and far-fetched. The explanation of trop- ical energy is hence obvious. By the trope, the mind ad- dressed is placed in a certain place or time or analogous rela- tion, from which it views the object represented ; as in the trope '' a boisterous multitude," the mind is referred to a furi- ous wind swelling and roaring, and in that sensible image per- ceives the characteristic given in the epithet to the " multi- tude." Hence, when a word originally tropical ceases, from famil- iar use, to call up the sensible or singular object or scene to which it properly refers, it loses its tropical character. It is no longer turned from its accepted import. Such is the tend- ency in the progress of language with all tropes. Here we find the explanation of the feet that the same discourse pleases an imaginative mind skilled in the use of lan- guage and accustomed to refer the words to the sensible ob- ject which they originally represented, that, to another mind, seems wholly destitute of beauty. Here, too, is found the explanation of the pecuHar energy and beauty of that species of style which puts the imagination of the reader constantly in the way of making this reference. These general observations apply with equal force to the second class of figures or those founded on the representative imagery. § 334. Simple Tropes are of two species : — 1. Those in which the objects compared differ in quantity, whether of extent or degree ; and, 2. Those in which the objects differ in kind. A Trope of the former species is termed a Synecdoche, OF ENERGY IN STYLE. 315 as " Cicero " instead of "orator;" "a sail" for "a vessel." A trope of the latter species is called a Metonymy ; as " the father of Jupiter " for " Saturn ; " " the grave " for " death." § 335. Synecdoche is a trope in which either the part is put for the whole, or a species or individual for the class. Examples of the former variety are : — " England is stUl flourishing for the instrucaon of the world," for " Great Britain." — Mirdbeau. " By {homcmds," for " great numbers." The following are instances of the latter variety : — Romanus proelio victor, for Romani. "Some village Hampden that, with dauntless breast. The little tyrant of his fields withstood ; Some mute inglorious MiUon here may rest. Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood." — Gray. So thought the countries of Demosthenes and the Spaitan : yet Leonidas is trampled by the timid slave, etc. § 836. When the whole is put for a part, or the class for the species or individual, the trope is still called a synecdoche. In this case, for the most part, the energy of the expression is weakened. " To appropriate to one's self," is more general language and less forcible than " to steal." " He went to his rest," is a softer expression than " he died." The use of the plural '' we " is thus less egotistical than the singular " I." § 387. A Metonymy is a trope in which the object is represented by a word properly applied to something else that differs in kind from the represented object. The additional energy imparted to the expression by this trope is owing to the circumstance that the object is repre- 816 OBJECTIVE PEOPBETIES. sented by means of one more familiar, or more readily con- ceived, in consequence of its being single or cognizable by the senses. The different varieties of this trope may be thus classified : — 1. Cause represented by the effect, or vice versa ; as " gray hairs " for " old age ; " " Milton " for " Milton's writings." This variety is ultimately founded on identity of time, as the following is on that of place. 2. Substance by quality, property, or accident, and vice versa ; as, " the sun " for " the heat of the sun ; " " Brutus " for " inflexible firmness ; " " wealth counts its cattle " for " the man of wealth." Here belongs the metonymy of the sign for the thing sig- nified, and the reverse ; as " scepter " for " dominion." 3. The time, for what existed or transpired in it, and vice versa ; as, " antiquity " for " the men of antiquity ; " " poster- ity " for " the future." Under this variety is included the metonymy founded on proximity of time. 4. The place, for what is in it or associated with it, and vice versa; as "Greece" for " the Greeks;" "the forum" for " a judicial tribunal," or "judicial business." By the use of an epithet the trope is made more significant and vivid, as : — Streaming grief his faded cheek bedewed. Here grief, the cause, is tropically used for tears, the effect — the &^ii3aB,t streaming — properly characterizing only the latter. § 338. A Metaphor is a trope in which the repre- sentation of the object is effected by the use of a word properly denoting something analogous ; and is founded on a resemblance or identity of relations. A metaphor being founded on an identity of relation is by OF ENERGY IN STYLE. 317 this distinguished from simple tropes, (§ 333.) The nature of the metaphor may be seen from the following illustrations : — " Time had plowed his Tenerable front." rhe word " plowed " is here used metaphorically. The use of it is justified on the ground of the analogy of the effect of literal plowing to that of time. In other words, what the driving of the plow is to the soil, time was to the fore- head. The resemblance on which the metaphor is founded is obviously one of relation and not of properties. Oh! when the groTVlingwinda contend, and all The sounding forest fluctuates in the storm, To sink in warm repose and hear the din Howl o'er the steady battlements — There is in these lines an accumulation of metaphors, aU clearly distinguishable by the characteristic named from the simple trope. The winds are said to growl from the analogy of the effect on the mind to the growls of a wolf. What growling is to the wolf, the noise of the storm is to the wind. So the motion of the forest is to the trees what the fluctua- tion of the water is to the waving sea. The same remark is applicable to " the howling of the diu over the battlement." It is to be observed that in the first and last of these meta- phors there is, besides the metaphor, also, the figure of per- sonification. Metaphors, like simple tropes, are of two classes, which, may be called Metaphors of Synecdoche and Metaphors of Metonymy. Thus in the distich : — Apollo hade me check my fond desire, Nor on the vast Tyrrhenian spread my little sail. "Tyrrhenian" is a metaphorical synecdoche, being used for any large sea ; which is to a little bark what epic themes were to the Ijrric spirit of Horace. The following is a metaphor of metonymy : — Or have ye chosen this place After the toils of battle, to repose Your wearied virtue f 318 OBJECTIVE PEOPERTIES. " Virtue " is here used for the persons to whom it belongs, and " wearied virtue " is a metaphor. § 839. Figurative Energy as depending on the num- ber of words consists in a repetition or an onaission of certain words which the ordinary forms of expression do not admit or require. § 340. This class of figures includes Mgurative Rep- etition and JEllipsis. FiGTJEATiVE EEPETITION includes l^nzeuxis where the word is immediately repeated without any intervening word or clause, as, " The introducers of the now-established prin- ciples of political economy may fairly be considered to have made a great discovery ; a discovery the more creditable," etc. ; and Epanahpsis, where a word or clause intervenes, as, " Tie persecutions undergone by the Apostles furnished both a trial to their faith, and a confirmation to ours : a tried to them," etc. The repetition of connectives belongs to this class, an4. is called Polysyndeton ; as, " Such a man might fall a victim to power ; but truth and reason and liberty would fall with him." And the kings of the earth, and the great men, and the rich men, and the chief-captains, and the mighty men, and every bond-man, and every free- tnan, hid themselves in the dens and in the rocks of the mountains. Ellipsis is the omission of a word or words which would be supphed in the ordinary form of expression ; as, — Hereditaiy bondmen ! know ye not. Who would be free, themselves must strike the blow? The Ellipsis of connectives is termed Asyndeton ; as, Veni, vidi, vici. § 341. Those forms of Figurative Energy which de- pend on f^e representative imagery include three spe- cies : — OF ENERGY IN STYLE. 3X9 1. Those figures which consist in a change fo the nature or relations of the represented object ; 2. Those which consist in comparison or contrast ; and, 3. Those which consist in a deviation from the or- dinary mode of expressing the mental condition of the speaker. — § 342. The first class of Representative. Figures in- cludes those of Vision, Personification, .and Hyperbole. Vision is a figure in which the object, although really re- mote, is represented as present in time or place. This figure, which is founded on a represented change in the relations of the object to time or place, is exceedingly common ; and is found in style of all degrees of energy and vehemence. The following are illustrations : — " He was chosen: his forces were collected with the utmost diligence: he marched as if toward Cyrrha. But now, farewell at once to all regard either to the Cyrrheans or the Locrians ! He seizes Elatea." — Demosthenes cm the Crown. " The unhappy man, arrested as he was going to embark for his native country, is brought before the wicked prsstor. With eyes darting fuiy, and a countenance distorted with cruelty, he orders the helpless victim of his rage to be stripped,androds to be brought; accusing him, but without the least shadow of evidence, or even of suspicion, of having come to Sicily as a spy." — Cicero against Verres. " Advance, then, ye future generations. We would hail you, as you rise in your long succession, to fill the places which we now fill, and to taste the blessings of existence, where we are passing, and soon shall have passed our own human duration. We bid you welcome to this pleasant land of the Fathers." — Webster. The figure in this last example is specifically denominated an apostrophe. It is in truth, however, a combination of vis- ion and apostrophe. § 344. Peesonification is a figure in which inanimate objects and qualities are represented as living beings. This likewise is a very common figure. Indeed, as many words in every language which were originally applied to 320 OBJECTIVE I'ROPEUTIES. inanimate objects or mere qualities only figuratively, have, by use, dropped their personifying character and are re- garded as proper terms ; so, likewise, phrases and extended forms of representative imagery have become the ordinary and proper modes of representation. ^ It is often conjoined with vision, and especially with apos- trophe. " But look, the mom, in russet mantle clad, Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastward hill." — Shahe^eare. " With such delay Well pleased, they slack their course, and many a league, Cheered with the grateful smell, old Ocean smiles." — Milton. " Ye woods and wilds, whose melancholy gloom Accords with my soul's sadness, and draws forth The tear of sorrow from mj' bursting heart, Farewell awhile." — Some. The peculiar nature of the English language, which ap- plies no distinctions of gender to objects destitute of sez, makes the use of this figure at once easy and forcible. The simple application of a personal pronoun implying sex to an inanimate object at once invests it with personality. " In like manlier, Liberty herself, the last and best gift of God to his creat- ures, must be taken just as she is. Tou may pare her down into bashful regularity, and shape her into a perfect model of severe, scrupulous law ; but she will be Liberty no longer." — ErsKne. " When Natural Religion has thus viewed both, ask her. Which is the prophet of God ? But her answer we have already had, when she saw part of this scene through the eyes of the centurion who attended at the cross. By him she spoke, and said: 'Truly this man was the Son of God.' " — Comparison of the Religion of Christ and of Mohammed in Sherloch'e Ser- The opposite of this figure, where a person is represented as a thing, has a similar energy in exposing a character to scorn and contempt. How in the name of soldiership and sense. Should England prosper, when such things, as smooth And tender as a girl aU essenced o'er With odors and as profligate as sweet ; Who sell their laurel for a myrtle wreath. And love when they should fight: when such as these OF ENERGY IN STYLE, 321 Presume to lay their hand upon the ark Of her magnificent and awful cause ? Hypeebolb is a figure in which the object is represented as magnified or diminished beyond reality. As vision is founded on a change in the relations of the represented object, and personification on a change in its nature or kind, hyperbole is founded on a change in the de- gree of some of its properties or qualities. "I saw their chief, tall as a rock of ice; his spear, the fir; his shield, the rising moon : he sat on the shore, like a cloud of mist on the hill." — Ossian. " A lover may bestride the Gossamer, That idles in the wanton summer air. And yet not fall — so light is vanity." — Shakespeare. He was the owner of a bit of ground not larger than a Lacedemonian letter. The minds of the aged are like the tombs to which they are approaching ; where, though the brass and the marble remain, yet the inscriptions are ef- faced by time, and the imagery has moldered sm&y. § 343. The second class of Representative Figures, being founded on a comparison of one object with an- other, includes those of Comparison Proper and Simile, Contrast, Allegory, and Allusion. This class of figures differs from the first class in this, that while the latter confine the view to the object itself and only represent it as changed in its relations, in its nature, or its degree, those of the second class go out from the object it- self and represent it only through the light of some other to which it bears some resemblance. The COMPAKISON PEOPEB is a figure in which the prop- erties or relations of the object are represented by means of similar properties or relations in another object of the same class. The comparison differs from the metaphor chiefly in being more extended. It is not essential to the comparison that the words of comparison, " like," " as," " so," etc., be actu- ally expressed; although the term "metaphor," or " meta- 21 322 OBJECTIVE PKOPEETIES. phorical comparison," is more commonly applied when those words are omitted. The figure is in this case bolder and makes a stronger demand on the imagination of the reader ;■ as aU the properties of the representative object are in form attributed to the other, and the reader is left to distinguish and select from among them such as may be appropriate. The use of the comparative particles and words, on the other hand, indicate only a partial resemblance. If the poet had said, " Be not dumb, driven cattle," the expression, if al- lowed by the meter, would be felt at once to be stronger and bolder than the comparative form which he adopts, — " Be not like dumb, driven cattle." The SIMILE differs only in form from the comparison. The term " simile " turns the mind on the object to which the theme is likened as the prominent thing. In the simile, accordingly, the representative object is presented as the leading t;heme ; and the represented as the subordinate one. In the comparison, on the other hand, the represented object is made the leading theme. Thus, a comparison would be in this form : " As when the thunder rolls in peals ; the lightning glances on the rocks ; spirits ride on beams of fire ; and the strength of the mountain-streams comes running down the hiUs : so was the voice of battle." In the simile, the rep- resentative object would be presented as the leading theme ; as, " Thou hast seen the sun retire red and slow behind his cloud ; night gathering round on the mountain ; while the unfrequent blast roared in narrow vales. At length the rain beats hard, and thunder rolls in peals. Lightning glances on the rocks, spirits ride on beams of fire, and the strength of the mountain-streams comes roaring down the hiUs. Such was the noise of battle." Differing thus slightly, the simile and the comparison are very commonly confounded. The comparison is happily employed to introduce meta- phorical expression, as : « Every action, like a statue, must first be modeled in the miserable wax of words." Contrast is a figure in which the object is represented OF ENERGY IN STYLE. 323 by another similar object, but the attention is turned on the opposition or points of difference between, them. Contrast thus involves comparison, since there can be no contrast between things entirely dissimilar. It differs from comparison in this, that while it assumes the resemblance it goes further and dwells on the points of opposition or dissim- ilarity. The destruction of a dangerous error which had widely extended its do- minion ia a glorious victory won by the friends of truth, armed only with the weapons of faith. Such a conqueror no streams of blood accompany: in his train are no desolated fields. The ALLEGOKT is but an extended simile, in which the comparative words are omitted. The allegory, the parable, and the fable belong to the same class of figurative forms of representation ; and their distinctions are not nicely observed in the common use of language. It is sufficient to remark of them that the fable is distinguished from the proper allegory by being shorter and also by being narrative or historical. It is founded on an imaginary event ; whereas an allegory may be descrip- tive. The term parable is more strictly confined to allego- ries which are either narrative or descriptive, of a moral or religious character; which are, moreover, founded on real scenes or events, as those of Christ. One of the finest examples of the allegory is in the eight' - eth Psalm, from the eighth verse to the sixteenth inclusive The " Pilgrim's Progress," by Bunyan, is another fine ei. emplification of the extended allegory. Of the aUegory FeUtham has well said : — " Truth may dwell more clearly in an allegory or a moraled fable than in a bare narrative." The ALLUSION is a species of comparison in which, while the comparative words are omitted, the represented object is still made the leading theme. By this last characteristic it is distinguished from the aUe- gory, in. which, as in the simile, the representative object is 324 OBJECTIVE PEOPEKTIES. the leading theme. It differs from one class of metaphors only in being more extended. Indeed, this class of meta- phors, referring to a real scene or event, are denominated metaphorical allusions, or allusive metaphors ; as, " The self- seeking wUl betray his friend or brother with a Judas-kiss." " The invisibility of the knight constituted a part of his great- ness ; and the Moses-veil doubled the glory which it con- cealed." The following are additional illustrations of this class of figures : — " He [the small poet] will take three grains of wit like the elixir, and projecting it upon the iron age, turn it immediately into gold. All the busi- ness of mankind has presently vanished ; the whole world has kept holi- day ; there have been no men but heroes and poets, no women but nymphs and shepherdesses ; trees have borne fritters, and rivers flowed plum-por- ridge. When he writes, he commonly steers the sense of his lines by the rhyme that is at the end of them, as butchers do calves hy their tails. For when he has made one line, which is easy enough, and has found out some sturdy hard word that will but rhyme, he will hammer the sense upon it, Mke a piece of hot iron upon an anvil, into what form he pleases." — S. JSutler. " Some are called at age at fom'teen, some at one-and-twenty, some never; but all men late enough; for the life of a man comes upon him slowly and insensibly. But as when the sun approaches toward the gates of the morn- ing, he first opens a little eye of heaven, and sends awaj- the spirits of dark- ness, and gives light to a cock, and calls up the lark to matins, and by and by gilds the fringes of a cloud, and peeps over the eastern hills, thrusting out his golden horns, like those which decked the brows of Moses when he was forced to wear a veil, because himself had seen the face of God; and still, while a man tells the story, the sun gets up higher, till he shows a fair face and a full light, and then he shines one whole day, under a cloud often, and sometimes weeping great and little showers, and sets quickly ; so is a man's reason and his life." — J. Taylor. We reckon more than five months to harvest. That Marah was never diy. No art could sweeten, no draught could ex- haust its perennial waters of bitterness. § 344. The third class of Representative Figures, or those in which the mental condition of the speaker is represented as different from the reality, may be dis- tributed into three species, according as they respect the personality of the speaker, that of the hearer, OF ENERGY IN STYLE. 325 or the nature of the thought or feeling represented itself. The first species is pkosopopoiia., in which the speaker personates another ; as where Milo is introduced by Cicero as speaking through liis lips : " Attend, I pray ; hearken, O citizens : I have killed Puljlius Qodius by this sword and by this right hand ; I have kept off his rage from your necks, which no la^s, no courts of judicature, could restrain,'' etc. It is sometimes joined with personification, in which case inanimate or irrational things are represented as speaking ; as in Cicero's first oration against Catiline, the republic is made the speaker and addresses Cicero himself : " What are you doing ? Are you suffering him whom you have found to be an enemy, who you see is to be at the head of the war, whom you perceive our enemies wait for in their camp as their general, who has been the contriver of this wickedness, the chief of the conspiracy, the exciter of slaves and profli- gate citizens, to leave the city which is rather to bring him in than let him out ? Will you not order him to be impris- oned, condemned, and executed ? " Sometimes this figure takes the form of a colloquy or a dialogue. This was the ancient sermodnatio. How does God reveal himself in Nature ? She answers thee with loud voices, with a thousand tongues : God is love. The second species is apostrophe, in which the speaker, instead of addressing directly his proper hearer, turns him- self to some other person or thing, either really or only in imagination present. This figure abounds in the orations of Cicero. Thus in his first against Catiline : " I desire, senators, to be merciful, but not to appear negligent in so great dangers of the State ; though at present I cannot but condemn myself of remiss- ness. There is a camp formed in Italy at the entrance of Etruria, against the State ; our enemies increase daily ; but we see the commander of the camp and general of the ene- 326 OBJECTIVE PEOPERTIES.*" mies within our walls, in the very senate, contriving some intestine ruin to the State. If, now, Catiline, I should order you to be seized and put to death," etc. Agaijj, in his defense of Milo, he turns to his brother Quintus and addresses him as if present : " And how shall I answer it to you, my brother Quintus, the partner of my misfortunes, who art now absent ? " The third species of figures of this class which respect a change in the represented conception of the object by the speaker from the reality, includes irony, doubt, and interro- gation. Ieont is a figure in which the speaker represents his thought in a form that properly expresses the directly oppo- site of his opinion. It is employed mostly for purposes of playfulness or scorn and contempt. " Silence at length the gay Antinous broke, Constrained a smile, and thus ambiguous spoke : What god to you, untutored youth, affords This headlong torrent qf amazing words ! May Jove delay thy reign, and cumber late So bright a genius with the cares of state! " Odyssey, I. 490. But, Mr. Speaker, ■' we have a right to tax America." inestimable right ! wonderful, transcendent right ! the assertion of which has cost this country thirteen provinces, six islands, one hundred thousand lives, and seventy millions of money. invaluable right! for the sake of which we have sacrificed our rank among nations, our importance abroad, and our happiness at home ! DotTBi^ also called aporia and dvMlatio, is a figure in which the speaker represents himself as in doubt, for the pur- pose of winning a stronger confidence from 'the hearers. Thus, Qcero in his oration for Cluentius : — " I know not which way to turn myself. Shall I deny the scandal thrown upon him of bribing the j udges ? Can 1 say, the people were not told of it ? " etc. Inteeeogation is a figure in which a strong and confi- dent assertion is represented under the form of an inquiry or demand. OF ENEUGY IN STYLE. 327 Have any alarms been occasioned by the emancipation of our Catholic brethren? Has the bigoted malignity of any individuals been crushed? or has the stability of the government or that of the country been weakened ? or is one million of subjects stronger than four millions. § 345. Those forms of Figurative Energy wliicli de- pend on the structure of the sentence respect either the order and connection of the parts, or the completeness and length of the entire sentence. They include Inversion and Anacoluthon, Aposiopesis and Sententiousness. 346. Inveesion is a figure in which the arrange- ment of the parts of a sentence is changed from the usual syntactical order. The general principle of energy in regard to the arrange- ment of the parts of a sentence is, that the more important words or phrases be placed first or last, and the less impor- tant be thrown into the middle. Tins principle, indeed, ap- plies also to the arrangement of words in the members. "Words of transition, of every class, as " however," " besides," " therefore," and the like, should in accordance with this principle be thrown, whenever practicable, into the middle of the sentence ; — should be, in other words, postpositive and not prepositive. So, likewise, merely explanatory members or phrases should be neither the first nor the last on the mind, unless they are to be made emphatic. But the unbending syntax of our language allows but little liberty to the orator in this respect. It is here incom- parably inferior to the ancient languages which, by the mul- tiplicity of their inflections, admitted readily any desired ar- rangement of the words and phrases. It is, however, even here superior to some other modern languages ; and without offending against its essential principles, the orator may im- part much energy to discourse by authorized deviations from the ordinary structure of the sentence. As the subject is naturally the first thing to be presented 328 OBJECTIVE PROPERTIES. to the mind, our language requires that ordinarily it be placed first in the sentence. But sometimes it is the predicate in whole or in part, or the mode of the copula, upon which the orator wishes the attention more particularly to be fixed. To accomplish this inversion, in the first place, we have cer- tain words and forms of expression which are used for this purpose alone and are in themselves utterly destitute of meaniag ; such as, there, there is, it is. There is a feeling of the sublime in contemplating the shock of armies' just as there is in contemplating the devouring energy of a tempest; and this so elevates and engrosses the whole man, that his eye is hlind to the tears of bereaved parents, and his ear is deaf to the piteous moan of the dy- ing, and the shriek of their desolated families. There is a gracefulness iu the picture of a youthful warrior burning for distinction on the field, etc. . M gives me pleasure to advance a further testimony in behalf of that government with which it has pleased God, who appointed to all men the bounds of their habitation, to bless that portion of the globe that we occupy. It is the gospel of Jesus Christ which has poured the light of day into all the intricacies of this contemplation. Again, when the predicate is separated in part or in whole from the copula, the predicate or a part of it may be placed first. " Great is Diana of the Ephesians." His faithful dogs howl on his hills, and his boars which he used to pur- sue, rejoice. Fallen is the arm of battle; the mighty among the valiants is low I Further, the qualifying parts of a sentence, when they are to be made emphatic, may be placed first without violating the principles of the language. So deeply were they impressed with the sense of their wrongs, that they would not even accept of life from their oppressors. Once more, in the objective relation of the sentence, our language ordinarily requires that the object follow its verb. For the sake of energy, however, inversion is often allowable here. All that I have and all that I am and all that I hope in this life, I am now ready here to stake upon it. OF ENERGY IN STYLE. 329 § 347. Anacoluthon is a figure in which, for the sake of energy, the orator drops the grammatical form, with which he had commenced and adopts another not syntactically reconcilable with it. This flgare, common in the classical writings, is rarely allowable in our language. Only strong passion can war- rant it, as it seems to imply such a degree of emotion in the speaker as to destroy the recoUection of grammatical forms. These forms in the English language are so few and sim- ple compared with the number in the Greek and the Latin, that the emotion must be extreme indeed, which could be supposed violent enough to supplant the knowledge of them. § 348. Aposiopesis is a figure in which the feelings of the speaker induce him to interrupt the expression and leave the sentence incomplete. This figure, by its disect address to the imagination of the hearer, is often one of great power. Demosthenes employs it frequently with much effect ; as in his address to ^schines : " thou — by what name can I properly call thee ? " Must I remember? why she would hang on him As if increase of appetite had grown By what it fed on ; yet, within a month — Let me not think — Frailty thy name is woman. § 349. Sententiousness is a deviation from that continuousness in style which thought naturally re- quires, (§ 295.) It characterizes that discourse which is broken up into short and abrupt sentences. The women, in their turn, learned to be more vain, more gay. and more alluring. They grew studious to please and to conquer. They lost some- what of the intrepidity and iirmness which before were characteristic of them. They were to affect a delicacy and a weakness. Their education was to be an object of greater attention and care. A finer sense of duty was to arise. 330 OBJECTIVE PROPEUTIES. After all, what is high birth? Does it bestow a nature different from that of the rest of mankind? Has not the man of ancient line, human blood in his veins? Does he not experience hunger aiid thirst? " Besides, sir, we have po election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery. Our chains are forged. Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston. The war is inevitable, and let it come. I repeat if, sir, let it come." § 350. There are certain general principles which apply to the use of figures and which should be care- fully observed. The first respects the occasion of using them ; it requires that they never be introduced unless there be fit and suitable ground for them in the feelings of the speaker. So far as figures appear to be sought after, they indicate labor and affectation which are in themselves most hostile to energy. The proper rule to be observed in reference to pro- priety in the use of figures, is that, while familiarity be obtained by previous study with the various kinds of figures, such only be actually employed in discourse as spring up naturally at the time. § 361. The second principle respects the number of figures ; it forbids a too frequent repetition of them, and, especially, the frequent repetition of the same figure. § 352. The third principle respects the relation to the ordinary essential properties of style ; it requires that figurative expressions should be in conformity with the necessary principles that govern those prop- erties. Figures are deviations from the ordinary forms of speech, but can never be properly violations of its essential proper- ties. In the use of figures, accordingly, the principles of etymology, syntax, and lexicography, for example, should OF ENERGY IN STYLE. 331 never be violated. No real energy is gained to discourse by the introduction of a figure which is unintelligible or obscure. § 353. The fourth principle respects the quality of the iigure itself; it requires that it be ever congruous and complete in itself; and at the same time be ex- tended no further than is necessary for distinct appre- hension. The liability to an offense against this principle is greatest in the case of the representative figures. Whenever these are presented confusedly and with incongruous features they offend rather than impress. So, also, while offensive abrupt- ness and incompleteness are to be avoided, the figure should never be extended further than the imagination of the hearer needs in order to grasp it intelligibly and fully. In the simile or comparison, for instance, to carry out the figure into every possible resemblance weakens as well as disgusts, and is fatal to energy. The following extracts exemplify violations of this prin- ciple : — "There is not a single view of human nature wliich is not sufficient to extinguish the seeds of pride." — Addison. " Men must acquire a very peculiar and strong habit of turning their eye inwards, in order to explore the interior regions and recesses of the mind, the hollow caverns of deep thought, the private seats of fancy, and the wastes and wildernesses, as well as the more fruitful and cultivated tracts, of this obscure climate." — Shcjftesbury. " These are the first-fruits of my unfledged eloquence, of which thou hast oft complained that it was buried in the shade." " Upon thy mirror, earth's majestic view, To paint thy presence, and to feel it too." CHAPTER IV. OF BEAUTT IN STTLE. § 354. Beauty in style is that property by virtue of which the discourse is commended to the taste of the hearer. The general relations of discourse to beauty, to taste, to the imagination as both faculty and capacity of form, were summarily indicated in §§ 4, 6. We have found the prin- ciples of beauty — the principles of aesthetic science — in application everywhere throughout the whole procedure in the production of discourse ; more prominently, indeed, in some departments than in others, as in excitation, persuasion, in the use of imagery, yet in some degree in all. We have now to view them as they apply themselves only in another specific relation — to the taste of the 'hearer ; and the in- quiry which presents itself is simply this : what attention to taste is requisite in the construction of discourse from mere consideration of the mind addressed beyond that already recognized as necessary in the provision of the thought and outward expression of it in language. Beauty in style, it may be again remarked, is a relative property, (§ 307.) Hence arises the necessity that the orator careftdly consult the taste of his hearers, that he may prop- erly meet its degrees of culture and other peculiarities which determine or modify taste. He must never lose sight of that — the aesthetic nature of his hearers. And al- though that nature is genericaUy the same in all men, there are infinite diversities in the degrees of culture, particularly in respect to the diversity bf objects in respect to which the taste may specifically be exercised or cultivated. OF BEAUTY IN STYLE. 333 The particulars in the construction of discourse to be attended to in order to conform it properly to the taste of the hearer may be ascertained at once from the analysis of beauty or form as the proper object of the taste or passive imagination. In all objective beauty or form, then, there are to be recognized at once three essential constituents, — something revealed, somethuig in which it is revealed, and the revelation itself; just as in a judgment there are the three elements, — that of which something is thought, that which is thought of it, and the more vital element of the judging act tself. Now nothing can be revealed to mind save mind itself; and if we may use the term in its widest, yet a legitimate, import, as denoting any form of the mind what- ever, including forms of the mind as feeling and wUling as well as those of knowing, we may call that which is revealed in all beauty or form idea. The elements of beauty depend- ing on its idea — its proper content revealed in any object of beauty according as it is a form of the intelligence, the sensibility, or the will, — are propriety, tone of sentiment, and grace. Of these elements, propriety is founded on the unity and harmony of the parts and relations of an object which are the indispensable conditions of our intelligently apprehending it. We cannot know an object except so far as it is one the internal parte of which are in congruence or harmony, so that they can be grasped together in thought, and the external relations of which are in like congruence or harmony with all surrounding objects of our knowledge. The word tone is fitly and eminently in the literature of art applied to the expression of feehng. And the term grace is as fitly and currently applied to an object of beauty so far as apprehended as activity ; grace is the form of activity as perfect, that is, as free, unshackled, and unconstrained by outer force. The matter in which the idea or content in beauty is re- vealed, so far as discourse is concerned with it, is of three 334 OBJECTIVE PROPERTIES. gradations. , In the first place, the idea to be expressed shapes itself ever in some specific form — some ideal which is rightly viewed as the internal matter in which thought and feeling and pm'pose express themselves. In the next place, as has been repeatedly represented already, this ideal to be communicated to another mind is invested more or less in what we have called the representative imagery of thought. StUl further, we have the third gradation of human speech consisting of audible, articulate sounds, in which thought in discourse finally embodies itself. Lastly, the revealing act itself, which is the vital element of beauty, as it incor- porates the given idea in these various kinds of matter freely and perfectly, imparts a peculiar beauty to discourse. That discourse, then, meets all the demands of taste, which throughout expresses perfect propriety, perfect tone of sen- timent, and perfect grace, wherever intelligence, feeling, or free activity is expressed, which expresses such idea in per- fect ideals embodied in fitting imagery and diction, and finally, expresses such idea in such matter-form with a per- fect revealing or rendering power — in perfect freedom. But it will appear on reflection that these elements of beauty in discourse may all be comprehended under the three enu- merated as founded in the idea ; for in oratory, as we have seen, the idea revealed is the speaking mind itself. Proper oratory is a personal procedure ; it is the revelation of the person, and in its highest, most perfect forms — it is the whole man in the highest exertion of all his powers of thought and feeling and purpose, through all the modes of outward ex- pression. Such is the view given of it by one who among the best knew and possessed himself its power — a view caught, it would seem, in a moment of special inspiration. " The clear conception, out-running the deductions of logic, the high purpose, the firm resolve, the dauntless spirit, speak- ing on the tongue, beaming from the eye, informing every feature, and urging the whole man onward, right onward to his object — this, tliis is eloquence.'' The person is, conse- OF BEAUTY IN STYLE. 335 luently, to discourse, what the theme is to a poem, the char- icter to a portrait or a statue, the subject or content to any )roduct of art. The person is revealed as well in the choice )f imagery and of diction and in the rendering power as in he theme or the object of his discourse. Hence, in the two atter sources of beauty named — the matter-form and the •endering skill — we demand, as the governing characteris- ;ics, perfect propriety, pure tone of sentiment, and grace. These three may be accepted, consequently, as the compre- lensive elements of 'beauty in discourse. § 355. The elements of Beauty in style are Propri- ity. Tone, and Q-race. These properties should characterize the entire production of discourse — its style in its broader import — the shaping of the thought, the expression of feeling, and of aim. They should mark the whole discourse, as the style of the whole man himself is necessarily given forth more or less in all dis- course, and more fully in the higher and more perfect forms of oratory, in which the discoursing mind impresses itself more directly and completely on the soul of the hearer through his passive imagination. § 356. Rhetoeical Peopeiett is that element of beauty in discourse which is founded in the harmony or congruence of its properties and of its relations. The term propriety, it wiU have been observed, is used in various appUcations in rhetoric. We have already recog- nized grammatical propriety, denoting iu its narrower import, as etymological propriety, a congruence between the use of words and their function as parts of speech ; also, another species of the more generic grammatical propriety, lexical propriety, a congruence between the use of words and their estabhshed meaning. We have now a proper rhetorical pro- priety as congruence between the discoursing mind in the movements of thought and feefing, and the use of imagery 336 OBJECTIVE PROPERTIES. and of diction on tlie one hand, and the true nature of dis- course on the other. As the word itself signifies, rhetorical propriety is but the giving to discourse what belongs to it — ■ what is proper to it — that without which it cannot be per- fectly apprehended as true discourse. And this is but that internal and external harmony or congruence in all proper- ties and relations which is the condition of aU intelligent ap- preh^sion. Rhetorical propriety requires an observance of the condi- tions of internal congruence — of harmony in all the proper- ties of discourse. The theme must, be in harmony with the discussion, the discussion with the proposed object of dis- course, the process of discussion with the more specific end of the discourse, the subsidiary parts with the principal parts. And in like manner, the style must be congruous with the theme and the discussion, and with each part and stage of the discussion, as, also, in its parts, in the imagery, and the diction in aU their modifications. Rhetorical propriety requires, also, a congruence or con- formity in the whole structure of the discourse to all related objects — to the character, personal and official, of the speaker and of the hearers, and to the occasion and aU the circum- stances of speaking. The gradations of propriety, both in respect to extent and importance, vary from its highest forms in proper oratory where it is both indispensable to success and ranges through- out the whole procedure in speaking, ruling thought and pas- sion and purpose, and shaping the whole body of expression in imagery and diction, down to its lowest forms in mere rep- resentative discourse, in which the proprieties attaching to the person both of writer and readers and to the occasion and circumstances of writing, which are the higher proprieties ia pure oratory, sink relatively and become almost obscured in the lower proprieties that attach to the conduct of the thought and use of diction. The orator must be in harmony with himself, with his theme and ^scussion, and with all that is OF BEAUTY IN STYLE. 337 about him ; suiting himself in all to the various and fluctuat- ing demands of the taste of his hearers at the time. Cicero does not hesitate to call propriety in this, its full and legiti- mate import, the chief thing in the art, the one essential ele- ment of oratorical power: "Is erit eloquens, qui ad id quodcunque deoebit, poterit accommodare orationem." To the same purpose, Milton speaks of " decorum," a term used in the same sense, as " the grand masterpiece to observe." Indispensable as it is, and therefore imperatively demand- ing the earnest and assiduous study of all who would excel in discourse by the careftil, separate study of each one of its manifold requirements, it is yet that one property which Cicero says it is impossible to communicate : " Caput esse artis, decere ; quod tamen unum id esse, quod tradi arte non possit." § 357. Rhetokical Tone is that element of beauty in discourse which consists in the expression of the sen- timent of the speaker. Tone in art-literature is the proper symbol of the sensi- bility — of feeling, in distinction from propriety, which is the proper symbol of intelligence, and from grace, which is the symbol of power or freedom. But the highest form of the sensibility is the passive imagination — the capacity of form, as the judgment is the highest form of the intelligence. Rhetorical tone, therefore, is the expression in discourse of the speaker's mind as it has been impressed and shaped from whatever source or cause. It legitimately includes the ex- pression of character, as that which has been shaped and formed by the conspiring work of the individual himself and of all the outward influences which have left their impress upon him. It was thus on good grounds that the ancients urged so earnestly the importance of character to success in oratory ; for, as Quintilian reasons, " discourse reveals charac- ter and discloses the secret disposition and temper ; and not without reason did the Greeks teach that as a man lived so 22 338 OBJECTIVE PROPERTIES. he would speak." " Profert enim moMs plerumque oratio, et animi secreta detegit. Nee sine causa Grseci prodiderunt, ut vivat, quemque etiam dicere." Tone, therefore, as the revelation of the soul and character of the speaker, must characterize discourse everywhere. They give a peculiar color and hue to it in every element — in the shaping of the theme and through the discussion, but more fully and impressively in the more outward embodiment of the thought in the imagery and diction. The purity and elevation of soul in the speaker, the habits of thought which they occasion and determine, the Wonted associations with objects as high or base, the imagery with which the mind from allowed disposition and habit has become conversant, and even the language which has become most familiar from being the allowed embodiment of the wonted tenor of thought and feeling, are distinct elements which impart to its discourse its proper tone. As purity, nobleness, generosity, kindliness, are in their own nature winning and impressive, the orator who would aim at the highest success wiU need to see, to it that the feeUng, the soul that he necessarily reveals in his discourse, be such as the higher and more dominant nature of man shall approve and love. § 358. Rhetorical Grace is that element of beauty in discourse which is found in the rendering power or skill of the speaker. Grace, m has already been remarked, is the revelation or symbol of free activity. In style, accordingly, it is the expression of the activity of the speaker as being free and untrammeled. It is the highest characteristic of genius in discourse. It is the predominant characteristic of Shakes- peare, who outranks all writers, not in the extent of his learning or richness of his intelligence nor in the intensity of his feeling, but in his wonderful power and freedom in rendering, in revealing or embodying. Everywhere do we stand in admiration of it in his dramas — in the rendering of OF BEAUTY IN STYLE. 339 historic fact and of historic character tlirough the develop- ment of the plot, the selection and grouping of personages and their utterances. Every word, every sentence, every image, every scene is the most perfect revelation of what- ever idea was to be brought forth in_ it. "Well has it been said : " You cannot change a word but for the worse ; the embodiment, the rendering, would be marred by the change." Grace — freedom in rendering — must characterize dis- course everywhere. We can put up with almost any thing in discourse but imbecility, — impotence in conceiving and de- veloping the theme, and in the representation in imagery and language. As the highest characteristic of oratorical genius it demands special study and training. It should be remarked that grace respects continuous and sustained power, rather than that which is fitful, which is merely impetuous and violent. Abniptness and sententiousuess in style imply, in- deed, power. So far as abrupt and broken, however, discourse implies a broken or impeded energy. The roar and foam of a mountain torrent dashing against rocks and trees display force ; it is force, however, checked, impeded, and out-mas- tered. The easy, gentle flow of the majestic river, that quietly takes into its current and bears along without a ripple every obstacle that comes in its way, is a more perfect emblem of unimpeded power, and in its motion we see grace exemplified. Mere impulsive, jetting oratory is so far defi- cient in grace as it implies impeded and resisted power. § 359. In the acquisition of this general property — Beauty in style — three means are essential : — First, Mental culture ; Secondly, Study of art, including both its principles and its exemplifications in models ; and. Thirdly, Exercise with judicious criticisms. § 360. Mental culture is essential for that intelligence 340 OBJECTIVE PROPERTIES. which is the ground and condition of propriety, for acquiring those habits and associations which are neces- sary for the expression of right sentiment, and also for the attainment of that power and freedom which is the foundation and source of grace. § 361. The study of art is directly beneficial in cultivating propriety, in forming the sentiments, and in developing power of expression. Every species of art may be turned to useful account in the formation of oratorical taste. While in no one are all the forms of beauty perfectly revealed, there is none, perhaps, which is not distinguished above every other in its adapted- ness to develop some one or another particular element of beauty. The term art is here employed in its most comprehensive import, and is intended to include every exertion of power under the control of taste. Nature itself in this view is but the workmanship of a most perfect artist, and is hence a most appropriate model for the study of oratory in all its various forms of skill and beauty. Manners and morals, also, lie within the domain of art ; and for many reasons demand the close and constant study of the orator, not for the mere information of the understanding only, but as fur- nishing the means of developing and forming fhe taste. In the study of discourse itself, the best means of cultivat- ing taste are to be found. The principle to guide in selecting models is well given by Coleridge : — " Presume those to be the best, the reputation of which has been matured into fame by the consent of ages. For wisdom always has a final majority, if not by conviction, yet by acquiescence.'' § 362. Uxercise in oratory is the chief and indis- pensable means of developing and strengthening power of execution ; and, combined with judicious criticism, aids in the cultivation of all the elements of oratorical taste. OF BEAUTY IN STYLE. 341 In applying criticism to oratorical compositions, the caution given in § 18 in regard to the time of criticism needs care- fully to be observed ; as nothing more fatally chills and enervates inventive and expressive power than the indul- gence of an undue critical spirit at the time of composing or speaking. Hence the indispensable necessity to the best culture in discourse, of the study of one process of invention, of one property of style, at a time, tiU each successively is thor- oughly mastered. Skill in one process or in regard to one property helps to training in every other, and moreover saves from that distraction and consequent confusion and conscious weakness which are so fatal to freedom and so to all success in constructing discourse. Exercises on the objective properties. Name and correct the faults in the following extracts : — London was inferior in most material respects to Paris and Lisbon. The French wits have for the last age been in a manner wholly turned to the refinement of their language, and in- deed with such success that it can hardly be excelled, and runs equally through their verse and prose. No laws are better than those oi this remarkable code. After we had been some time at the house of Gaius mine host and of the whole church. These two elements are always in a certain inverse pro- portion to each other. It is extraordinary that there is not more than one ac- cident a day here. Every one who puts on the appearance of virtue is not virtuous. This fallacious art debases us from enjoying life instead of lengthening it. Hence is necessitated a radical difference in the kind of agency which he exerts upon man and upon the material world. 342 OBJECTIVE PROPERTIES. So there is that in the nature of the infinite God which no copy graven on a finite soul, however noble, can in the very nature of things fuUy render. If kept in ignorance of the truth, if error is constantly inculcated, and all the powers of education be brought to bear in favor of evil, it is almost unavoidable that the judg- ment will be perverted and the mind corrupted. I have before not erred in my opinion. Such were very nearly the words and such the manner in which Miss J. expressed her determination. " By her own internal schisms, the church was rehearsing those vast rents in her foundation which no man should ever heal." — De Quincey. -" This reproach might justly fall on many of the learned of that age, as with less excuse it has often done upon their successors." — HaUam. That then and still unfortunate country. The room where this vista Nature in her genuine Eng- lish aspect opens, is the same, etc. We can scarcely doubt that it is idle to deny that this race has deeply affected our destiny. We think more highly of his sketches of the social and ecclesiastical condition of England than of the improvements in her laws and constitution. "This, though men make a shift with in the ordinary oc- currences of hfe where they find it necessary to be under- stood, and therefore they make signs till they are so ; yet this insignificancy in their words, when they come to reason concerning either their tenets or interest, manifestly fills their discourse with abundance of empty unintelligible noise and jargon. Especially in moral matters, where the words for the most part standing for arbitrary and numerous collections of ideas, not regularly and permanently united in nature, their bare sounds are often only thought on, or at least very obscure , and uncertain notions annexed to them.'' — Locke. OF BEAUTY IN STYLE. 843 I could draw out a frightful picture of human suffering, and without going beyond the actual experience of mul- titudes, against which no sagacity or virtue of man could guard. " I was once extremely fond of my pencil, and it was a great mortification to me when my father turned off my master, having made a considerable progress for the short time I learned." — Lady Montagu. Mrs. Gibber herself he considered as a pattern of per- fection in the tragic art, from her magnetizing power of harrowing and winning at once every feeling of the mind. THE END